Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1)

by Michael G. Thomas

  The mighty ship activated its main drive engines and pushed to the Rift at a crawl. In fact, it was almost impossible to identify the movement of the ship as she started her maiden voyage.

  “Admiral Anderson, ANS Beagle is starting her run,” said Commodore Lewis before cutting his video link. Anderson watched the small flotilla of warships change their position so that each ship was stationed with its thickest armour and maximum amount of weapons facing the Rift. None of the civilians noticed, as they were all too busy watching the bulk of ANS Beagle move ever closer to the Rift. It moved passed the station at a crawl, but with the slow speed came the added drama and excitement of such a behemoth moving to the gate. He noted ANS Dragon swivel on the spot and point her bow railguns directly at the Rift itself. As the previous XO of a Navy battlecruiser, Admiral Anderson was very familiar with the weaponry, and even he knew that these new weapons were substantially larger and more powerful than the weapons he had access to during the War.

  If anything comes through the bridge, they’ll handle it.

  The front of the great vessel slipped inside the Rift and flickered and pulsed before vanishing from view. It took just seconds for the rest of the vessel to enter in its entirety and then it was gone. Admiral Anderson looked about the room and watched the look of confusion on the faces of the small group of press. This was in stark contrast to the large number of technicians and engineers who were busy maintaining the energy levels of the bridge.

  * * *

  ANS Beagle moved out from the violent exit of the Rift to the sound of emergency alarms blaring away. The structure shook and vibrated from the uncontrolled exit, and several parts of the vessel had ruptured and broken away. From his position in the CIC, Lieutenant Davies of the Alliance Marine Corps watched in confusion at their arrival. He had been placed in charge of the small contingent of a single platoon of marines to provide security for the vessel. It was a tiny number of people for such a great structure, but the risks of losing the ship had made it difficult to find more that would chance their lives on what could be a one-way mission.

  “Captain, do we have a problem?” he asked Captain Raikes, the commander of the vessel and one of the Alliance’s most experienced engineers.

  More flashes rippled through the room, and a display sent shards of glass flying across the open space. Like most of the older ships, she made extensive use of a rotating section to produce artificial gravity, but it was flawed in execution. The pieces seemed to follow bizarre arcs and managed to strike two crewmembers in the face. Captain Raikes shielded his face and shouted out to the officers and crew in the CIC.

  “I need a full report, now!”

  He then turned to look back at him.

  “This is just the consequence of an unsecured spacebridge, nothing for you to worry about.”

  With that short burst, he turned back to his crew and continued trying to get the situation under control. More flashes signalled the death of another display, the shuddering stopped, and the vessel appeared at peace, adrift in space.

  “Sir, we’re out of the Spacebridge. Reports are coming in now.”

  The Captain wasn’t looking as he was much more interested in the video feed on the main screen. It looked as though he was looking out of a large window, like the bridge of an ancient water-based vessel, but in reality the image was a projection from external camera feeds. This meant the CIC could be placed deep within the ship for security and engineering reasons.

  “Just look at that!” he said with a tone of awe and reverence in his voice. Lieutenant Davies looked to the display and gasped at the view. Not only was the left-hand side taken up with the massive shape of a burning hot star, but also directly in front of them a planet surrounded by thick rings. The Captain glanced over his shoulder to the technicians.

  “Look at that! You are the first people to ever look upon the planets of the Orion Nebula. This is truly a great day.”

  Silence greeted his words as they watched the shining orbs of light out in space. Many of them had visited other planets but few had travelled outside of Alpha Centauri, apart from those with long tours on military ships. This was a journey unlike any taken before by man, and every single one of them knew it.

  “Sir, the gate is closing!” called out the Chief Engineer.

  Captain Raikes looked at the display and watched as the Rift in space flickered and then vanished as quickly as it had been made.

  This is it then, he thought.

  “You know what you need to do, people. This station needs to be operational, and I want it done carefully and by the numbers.”

  The crew went about their duties, and he relaxed for just a moment. It had been expected that they would take some damage while heading through the Rift, and that was one of the main reasons for bringing so much spare equipment. Until equipment was installed at both ends, it would be impossible to keep the bridge open for more than a few minutes. Even worse though, until his ship was made operational they had no way of getting home. In theory it should work, but there was a possible and very real chance they could hit problems. Nothing more was said for several minutes until one of the engineers called out after spotting something on his display.

  “Uh...Captain...this isn’t right!”

  Captain Raikes barely even noticed his words until he noticed two more of the technicians moving over to the man’s desk to look at his screen. He turned around and looked directly at him.

  “What is it?”

  “The nearest moon...I’m...well, Sir, I’m picking up a coded radio signal from its surface.”

  Captain Raikes was dumbfounded at the news. The only way any coded radio signal could be sent was if something or somebody was there and had sent it. There was no possibility it could have come from them, they were the first visitors to this system.

  “Sir, we’re being scanned by something!” called out the same man.

  Captain Raikes snapped to attention, his initial surprise now starting to worry him.

  “What the hell is it?” he asked to the surprise of the rest of the crew. “Get me a long range view of the moon on the main screen.”

  It took just a few button presses to bring up a direct feed from one of the many stabilised camera mounts on the ship. The moon filled the display and looked like most moons, small, barren and desolate. He looked at it in detail but nothing of note appeared. He looked back to his crew that seemed equally perplexed.

  “Get to work, I need a working rift and fast!”

  Command is going to want to hear about this, he thought.

  But even more important to him was that he wanted to know they had a way back home. The thought of being stranded out in a star system this far out was the greatest fear any of them had on the ship. The only backup plan was that the Rift could be recreated back in Proxima Centauri, but that would not occur for another twenty-four hours. In the meantime, he had a damaged ship to repair, a rift to create, and a strange foreign signal to investigate. He looked back at the image of the moon and tried to imagine what could be transmitting. None of the options were particularly appealing to him.

  “Lieutenant!” he called out to the nearest science officer.

  “Sir?”

  “Prepare a reconnaissance drone. I want orbital scans by the end of today.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Admiral Jarvis first came to public significance during the attack on the Titian Naval Station. Her command of the Confederate counterattack has become legendary in the annals of the Navy. Her flagship, the battlecruiser CCS Crusader fought a long and bloody battle like none that had been seen for generations. She was present at the start of the War and her selfless actions at Terra Nova helped end it.

  Heroes of the Great Uprising

  “Thirty seconds until activation,” said a pre-recorded voice over the ship’s internal speaker system. It was nothing more than a simple reminder that they were about to move through. Spartan suspected the warning was more for insurance purposes, as at least
half the trips through a rift ended in minor injuries or at the very least some violent shakes.

  He watched the glowing shape of the Spacebridge from the observation area of the liner. The entrance itself reminded him of a whirlpool, and no matter how many times he’d travelled through; it gave him a sickening feeling in his stomach. This wasn’t the bridge that had been found in the middle of the War though. This was one of the first artificially made in the years since the War and had been lauded as the ultimate example of Alliance engineering. He knew where the technology had been found, and it had been won through blood and combat, not science and discovery.

  Not that Spartan really cared too much about where it had come from. He’d made hundreds of such trips in his long career, but times had changed. In the past, he travelled to warzones or to fix problems, but now he was travelling to another private security post and yet another contract. He looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see one of his comrades from the Marine Corps or the Alliance Navy, but instead all he found were groups of civilians. It seemed a long time since he’d completed his ten years in the Marines, and there were still days when he missed the action. He looked at the people around him; most were specialists but a few were heading out to visit their families. He straightened his back, boredom now seeming to settle into his very bones.

  How much longer till this damned journey is over? He wondered.

  Although unlike the rest of those on board, he knew almost to the second how long it would take. Even so, he was still impatient and wanted the journey to end. He looked at a young man, probably in his early twenties that sat and chatted to two women at the other end of the viewing area. They were all watching in awe as they travelled through the rift in space. It was old hat to Spartan. Little did any of them know how instrumental this one man’s military victories had been in allowing the creation of what was now known as the Network.

  Spartan was unlike anybody on the ship, however. Years of trouble had led him to a life of illegal pit fighting on the stations of Prometheus. The many fights and contests had toned his body and toughened his mind into that of a modern day gladiator. He had spent ten years in the military, with the first three taken up with the events of the Great Uprising that had led to a major civil war. Only the total defeat of the Echidna rebels and their hordes of Biomech creatures had averted the colonies from total disaster. He considered the great gulf of time that had passed since those bloody days, and in some ways missed the simplicity of the battles.

  Not that my security work is exactly safe, he thought to himself with a wry grin.

  In walked two Alliance Agents, one of whom he instantly recognised.

  “Johnson? What are you doing here?” he asked.

  The two men moved towards him, but only Johnson put on any attempt of pleasantries.

  “Spartan, nice to see you again,” he said, reaching out to shake his hand. The two had worked on a good number of operations both on Prometheus and Hyperion during and after the War. Johnson looked both pleased to see him but also concerned.

  “This is my partner for this operation, Agent Stefan Hammacher.”

  Spartan nodded to them both but concentrated on his old friend.

  “Why are you here? I thought you were in charge of Special Operation on Kerberos now? Aren’t you a bit old for fieldwork?” asked Spartan mischievously.

  Johnson nodded and chose to ignore his barb.

  “I am, but the rumours I’ve been hearing about Jack are worrying. I have selected the capture team myself. They are all reliable, skilled and understand the mission. We have to bring him in, ideally without violence.”

  Spartan raised an eyebrow at the last point.

  “You think he’ll come in without a fight? You do understand he’s a son of mine? I know we go back a long way, Johnson, but I’m no ally against my own blood. If you are thinking of taking him, why are you telling me? You looking for a fight?”

  Johnson smiled, but Agent Hammacher maintained a completely straight expression on his face.

  Johnson spoke to his partner for a few seconds until stopping and nodding to him. Hammacher stepped away and moved closer to the door, about twenty metres from where Spartan and Johnson were stood.

  “That was just posturing in front of Hammacher. About Jack, I know he’s barely eighteen now, but his list of offences keeps growing. At this rate, he’ll end up spending most, if not all of his adult life in prison. Maybe he’ll be given the same choice as you?”

  Spartan shook his head.

  “No, the Alliance doesn’t do that anymore. I don’t understand what happened with him. He was doing well at school, and Teresa and I have been spending more and more time with him at our new home, as much time as we can both spare. Okay, it’s mainly her, but still, he has a good life.”

  Johnson nodded.

  “True, but that last incident on the transport over Terra Nova left three men dead. He just doesn’t have any respect for authority and keeps getting into trouble. I’ve pushed enough off my desk already, but this current line of attack is getting a lot of attention. Either I came or somebody else would have.”

  “Hey, you know that was an attempted hijack of a Jötnar supply ship. Seven of them were murdered before he killed one of them and helped space the rest of them. It was judged a justifiable homicide if I remember correctly. So quite how does Jack really necessitate the involvement of Alliance Intelligence?”

  Johnson shook his head.

  “You do know that isn’t why I’m here, don’t you? We both know what happened on the ship, and the Jötnar won’t forget it either. That was a close run thing. The last situation the Alliance needs is a planet of angry Jötnar looking for some payback.”

  He touched Spartan’s shoulder, moving him closer to the window where the flashing of energy marked their journey through the Rift. They were now a good distance from anybody else in the observation area.

  “Your boy has dug up information on Epsilon Eridani that is causing quite a stir. I know you’re heading back to work on this new contract, but I could really use an assist on this one. It’s in your interest, Jack’s and the Jötnar.”

  Spartan looked intrigued.

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s no secret that your boy has spent a few interesting vacations with the Jötnar on Hyperion. Hell, I’d say he prefers the Jötnar to those of his own kind.”

  “So? He’s become good friends with the sons of Khan. He’s not committed any crimes. Even if he had, Hyperion is Jötnar territory.”

  The Agent pulled out secpad, a heavily improved and more secure version of the venerable datapad still used in the Alliance. It was the size of his fist and made from a toughened plastic. Spartan took it and placed his thumb on the side to activate the unit. It showed an image of Jack with two Jötnar climbing over a security fence. Although the Jötnar were the same age as his son, they were already the size of an adult man and much more strongly built. Originally a synthetic spinoff from the enemy’s war efforts, the Jötnar had become an integral, if not volatile part of the Alliance.

  “Your boy has been seen making contact with members of the Retribution movement.”

  Spartan looked surprised at the implication.

  “The Retribution movement? We shut them down years ago. Why would he be involved with them?”

  “That we don’t know. You are well aware they have been conducting vigilante raids on those suspected of working with the Zealots in the War. My intelligence sources suggest they have altered their scope in the last six months. Now they are looking for anybody involved in the Biomech programmes.”

  The ship shuddered violently, and the flashing colours of the Rift vanished to be replaced by the glowing orb of the new sun and the blue, watery planet below. Spartan looked out at the planet and allowed himself a short smile as he thought of his modest home on the surface. Epsilon Eridani was one of the newest star systems that had been colonised in the last five years, and with the construction of the bridge
it had expanded at an incredible rate. It contained only one habitable world, but that was more than enough for dozens of companies to move in and start exploiting its many resources.

  “Jack wouldn’t be involved in that kind of crap and you know it,” he replied, but truthfully Spartan just didn’t know anymore. He saw his son infrequently, and when they did, they usually fought. Things had never been resolved since the incident with the woman on Kerberos. He tried to shake the memories for a moment and get back to business.

  Johnson leaned in closer.

  “Look, this is the official line. The truth? We have intel on potential threats to the Jötnar, and we have suspicions that Jack knows more than he is letting on. I came here because it is Jack. I won’t risk him with any other agent.”

  Spartan looked over to the agent waiting impatiently at the end of the room.

  “You don’t have much faith in your own people?”

  Johnson shrugged.

  “The only person I trust is me, and I think I owe it to you to get this done properly.”

  Spartan nodded at this, thankful to have something that hopefully resembled the truth of the matter.

  “Well, it looks like we’d better find Jack then. How many people have you brought?”

  Agent Johnson looked back to his partner and indicated for him to come back. He then looked back to Spartan.

  “Just the two of us. We will meet at your new office and assess the information my units have established so far. I think we can end this before anybody gets hurt.”