Spartan nodded, and the two agents moved back to the door. Spartan looked back out of the window, but now nothing but a dark cloud seemed to hang over his return. He’d been working away from home for four months, and it had been hard work getting the contract organised for his firm to take over the security of the colony base. He had set up the small firm now known as Alliance Protection Services after leaving the military. Teresa, his wife, managed most of the day-to-day operations, and in just a few years, they’d moved from running security on a number of commercial sites to becoming the most important security contractor in the Alliance. Much of this was down to the reputation of its two founders; both decorated and experienced marines with exemplary track records.
Spartan pulled out his own secpad from a pouch on his belt and held it in front of him. He tapped the button that connected him directly to his office on the surface. Almost immediately the face of Ashley Helsing appeared. She was one of his best assistants and ran parts of the office when he was away.
“Spartan, good to see you,” she replied pleasantly.
“Is Teresa there?” asked Spartan.
She nodded while simultaneously connecting him through to her office. The image quickly shifted to that of a slightly darker room and the face of his wife and co-director of APS.
“Spartan,” she said with a concerned look.
Spartan recognised the expression immediately. The two of them had been in the trenches on many occasions and seen some of the bloodiest action of the Uprising. His heart felt heavy as he expected the worst.
“I need you down here fast. There’s been trouble at one of the refineries. Two men killed and the control crew are being held hostage. In the last two weeks, we’ve had a string of incidents. There’s a lot of money moving down here, and some of the competition are trying to muscle in on some of the smaller industrial operators. It’s getting hectic,” she paused and then did her best to smile. “It’s nice to see you.”
Spartan nodded, but he was actually relieved the news wasn’t about Jack. After seeing Johnson on the same ship as him, he was starting to worry that his troublesome son had somehow turned into one of the Alliance’s most wanted individuals.
“What about Jack?”
Teresa sighed with the look of exasperation he’d seen so many times in the last few years. Jack was a skilled and intelligent boy but had the fire and passion of Teresa, mixed with the stubbornness of Spartan. Individually, it was awkward but combined it became a lethal combination.
“I’ve grounded him until this farce with Gun’s sons is sorted out. Apparently, they were found at one of the mining complexes with people from a Kerberos crime family.”
“What?” asked Spartan incredulously.
“That’s what I thought. Jack said something about a movement on Kerberos that’s working against the Biomechs, some kind of vigilante programme. You know, one of the groups that looks to push them out of Alliance business and trade, the usual discrimination. I think this time it has got more serious. One of the Jötnar juveniles was found dead last week, and there are rumours they tried to sabotage one of the planetary rift gateways.”
“What? He wouldn’t be involved with that. He’s good friends with the Jötnar and the Biomechs.”
Teresa nodded quickly.
“I know. He wouldn’t consider lifting a finger against them. That’s the problem I think though. He knew the Jötnar, and he is taking it hard, really hard. Not even the crime family from Kerberos are interested in this violence.
“Yeah,” replied Spartan, “not good for business.”
Teresa nodded slowly.
“Exactly, and it looks like Jack has been working on finding out all he can on this movement. I think Gun and his own intelligence teams have been helping. You know Jack. He’s a big supporter of him and his people. I’m worried he’ll find out more than is safe. He’s hot headed, like somebody else I know.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me!” he replied, doing his best to make light of the situation.
He remembered the last time he’d visited Hyperion and the Jötnar with Jack. They participated in one of their violent but entertaining martial contests. Jack had managed to bring down a juvenile Jötnar, quite a feat for a teenager that had not reached manhood. The synthetic Jötnar had more in common with the trolls and ogres of myth than of modern man, and they had been created by the enemy for the war effort in the Uprising; but a large number had turned and fought for his side. Their reward had been the jungle world of Hyperion and full citizenship in the Alliance itself. The War may have ended seventeen years ago, but there were still thousands of people that had a bitter hatred of the creatures, some of whom had caused the deaths of so many citizens.
“There’s something else. Intelligence Director Johnson is here with another agent. They want to see Jack. Apparently, it is something to do with this Jötnar Retribution movement.”
Teresa leaned in closer to her camera.
“No, Jack would never be involved in that. I thought it fell apart years ago when Gun found out?”
Spartan recalled the great problems that had followed the Uprising and the bitterness and distrust on both sides. He was sure they had moved past the worst of it. The Jötnar were busy rebuilding Hyperion into a place befitting of their people, and he doubted they had the time or interest in that kind of vendetta. Gun was committed to the future of his people and wouldn’t risk it in some petty movement. But he did recall the murder of a Jötnar engineer on Prometheus in the previous year. The distrust and hatred was never far from the surface, it would seem.
“Well, either way we will all be meeting at the office in a few hours. Can you get all the information we have on these groups, and also make sure Jack is there? I want this cleared up fast.”
Teresa nodded in agreement.
“Now, onto more pressing matters, how about the rest of the family? Are they settling in to life in the military? Last I heard was that your boys had both passed the entrance exams for enlistment in the Navy.”
Teresa smiled. Her sons from her previous marriage were both grown up, and although they had met Spartan several times in the last few years, there was little they had in common. Their grandparents had brought them up while she repaid the debts she’d incurred, but since leaving home, it had been hard to get them all back together in one place. The only person any of them really had in common was Jack. Although the youngest, he had got on well with the two boys while he spent his infant years on Carthago. Spartan suspected that part of his anger might have come from removing him from the family group to be back with his parents at Epsilon Eridani.
“Yes, they are working on Terra Nova and hope to finish their training early next year. Impressive, don’t you think? Not bad for local boys brought up on the troublesome backwater of the Alliance.”
Spartan smiled at the mention of the old world. The last time he’d visited had been to meet with Teresa’s grandparents. They had done good work bringing up the boys, and he’d offered to sort out accommodation at Epsilon Eridani. They weren’t interested, and instead, Spartan arranged for Jack to spend as much of his holiday time with them.
“How are your grandparents?”
“The usual, complaining about the crumbling cities and crime is still rampant. Carthago always seems to be the last place to improve. It’s been a ruin since I was a child.”
Maybe that’s because they are always first to cause trouble, he thought, but kept it to himself.
“Will all passengers wishing to depart please head for departure Deck Four. Your shuttles are due to leave in forty-five minutes,” came another pre-recorded message.
Forty-five minutes!
Spartan couldn’t but be amused at the long delay before leaving the ship. He was used to having no more than a few minutes for departure in most situations. Even though he’d been out of the military for some time, he was often amazed at the slowness of civilian operations.
“I’d better be off, I will see you shortly..
.”
Teresa nodded happily.
“Yes, I’m looking forward to our reunion.”
* * *
Spartan’s arrival at the APS offices was the exact opposite of what he had expected. The small shuttle had deposited him and the two Alliance agents on the landing pad of his large, newly constructed facility. There was only one major settlement on the planet of Eridani Prime, known simply as City One. They stepped out, each wearing a sealed suit to protect them from the thin toxic atmosphere. The planet was far from the hospitable worlds in Alpha Centauri, but what it did benefit from was an abundance of metals, ore and a surprisingly stable if uncomfortable environment. The other six planets provided a rich collection of ice worlds, rock and Jovian planets. The perfect selection of worlds for exploitation by heavy industry, and with it the perfect place for gangs and organised crime to move into for a piece of the action.
A groundcar met the three of them from the shuttle, and they stepped the short distance to its door. Spartan could feel the chill air through his envirosuit, and it was a feeling that never left him feeling particularly comfortable. With an average temperature of just ten degrees Celsius, it was a chilling place. He was also well aware that at night it was possible for that to drop down to over minus seventy. A number of workers had been found frozen to death in just hours over the last year. Once inside the groundcar, the door hissed shut and flashing green indicators announced they were safe and out of the toxic air. Even so, they were unable to remove their suits until going through decontamination procedures at the main compound.
“Been here before?” asked Spartan, his voice slightly distorted by the respirator.
The two agents sat quietly, but only Johnson showed any interest in what Spartan had to say.
“No, and I have to say it hardly looks like the kind of place I’d want to visit.”
Spartan laughed at the two men.
“It might not look like much, but the wealth dug up here in the last two months has already boosted our security profits by triple of last year’s. There’s a lot of money to be made out here.”
“Yeah,” replied Johnson, “that part I do know. We’ve tracked several groups here with the intention of raiding companies operating so far out of our main areas of control. With Alliance funds tied up in trade and planetary security, there isn’t much capacity for the border worlds like this one.”
“That’s why we get paid,” said Spartan stoically.
Johnson nodded.
“Private contractors like yours are doing well in this climate. Tell me, how did you manage to secure this contract? I thought you had specialised in shipping protection? That’s what your commercials always say, anyway!”
Spartan smiled at him, knowing that getting this particular contract had been a major coup; one that a dozen other firms were itching to get their hands on. It was much more than providing security at the doors of expensive buildings. The infrastructure on Eridani Prime was worth trillions of dollars, and that didn’t include the value of the ore and resources being mined and refined.
“You do understand that reputation goes a long with this kind of business, don’t you?” asked Spartan with a tone of feigned injury.
Agent Johnson grinned at the reply.
“Your reputation couldn’t be any more concrete than if you were made from solid rock, Spartan. Military service, gladiatorial combat victories and one of the key saviours of the Alliance, what isn’t there to know?” he said with more than a hint of sarcasm.
The vehicle slowed to a halt, and the door hissed open to reveal two fully armoured men. Agent Johnson couldn’t but be surprised at how similar they looked to the Alliance Marines. Their armour was reminiscent of the PDS (Personal Defence Suits) worn by Alliance troops, yet the plates and ribbing suggested something even more substantial.
“Nice gear, Alliance issue?”
Spartan shook his head but gave nothing away.
One of the guards leaned closely to Spartan and spoke directly through the encrypted suit-to-suit communications channel.
“Sir, something is going on in one of the storage areas. I’ve despatched a security team, and they have the area isolated. It’s on the route to the refinery with the hostages.”
“What?” demanded Spartan.
“It’s Jack, Sir. He managed to break out with two others. Half an hour later, we got the message of gunfire in this part of the facility.”
The small group entered though the triple sealed entrance and into the decontamination area. Even as the steam and gases washed over them, they continued their conversation. Spartan thought for a moment.
“What’s down there?”
“In the storage area? Well, no weapons but there are about fifty spare sets of cold weather gear and some armour. There’s also a winterised Cobra.”
The light switched to green and each of them was able to remove the outer layers from their envirosuits. Agent Johnson moved up to Spartan and the guard.
“I take it there’s a problem?”
The guard said nothing, but Spartan decided to share something with him.
“There’s trouble in one of the storage areas. Reports of gunfire and possible theft of equipment and a Cobra transport.”
“Interesting, but not really something I need to concern myself with. I’ll let you get on with that. We’ll make our way to Ms Morato and get on with our interview of Jack, if that’s okay?”
Spartan nodded, indicating for one of the men behind the desk to approach them. The man stood up and moved towards them. He wore a smart suit and looked half of Spartan’s age. Spartan introduced the new arrivals.
“This is Intelligence Director Johnson. Please escort him and his assistant to Ms Morato, and give him any assistance that he might require.”
With that, Spartan left them and made for the nearest elevator. The armoured guard returned to the entrance of the complex, and Spartan noted that he locked down the door system.
Dammit, I can never catch a break, can I?
He hit the button on the wall to select the floor to the storage level and then connected directly to his office. Teresa answered it almost immediately.
“Ms Morato.”
“Teresa, I’ve just arrived. What’s going on?”
“Spartan, Jack managed to get out and he’s met up with some of his old friends. He said something about a cell working against the Alliance. It has something to do with this Biomech-hating organisation we were talking about.”
Spartan shook his head.
“Jack, what have you done now?” he said despairingly. “I’m away for a few months, and you’re in trouble again.”
“Spartan, there is a tactical team down there. I sent Lovett, and he’s already secured the perimeter. Hurry, Jack said something about them trying to sabotage the rift generator.”
“What, how can they do that from down here?”
Teresa shook her head.
“I have no idea, Spartan. All I know is Jack said it was urgent, and he was going to stop them.”
“Okay, good work. Johnson will be arriving at your office very soon. Stall him, and I’ll deal with this problem.”
“Good luck, Spartan. Get back in one piece.”
The elevator continued downwards until it reached almost two hundred metres underground. The site of the city was inside one of the craters, but for safety reasons, the storage of valuable equipment was kept locked down under the main complex. With a low-pitched pulse, the doors slid open, revealing a debris-filled corridor with four armoured men pinned down behind an improvised barricade. Spartan moved out and took cover behind the group. They spotted his arrival, but only one turned to him. It was James Lovett, his old friend and comrade from the War.
“Spartan, keep your head down,” he said with a grim smile.
He needed no further encouragement and took cover in the corridor along with the armoured men. Almost immediately a flurry of small calibre bullets hit near their position.
“
What the hell is going on down here? This is an industrial outpost, not a goddamned warzone!”
Lovett took aim with his own sidearm and fired one shot before looking back.
“Spartan, best we can tell there is a group in the refinery control room. They were loading stolen ore from one of the refineries when one of my patrols spotted them. They opened fire and then set the transport on fire. In the confusion, they took maybe four or five hostages. They want a fuelled freighter to take them away.”
Another shot ripped towards them, and Spartan flinched, now acutely aware he was wearing no armour other than the ballistic vest he always wore.
“What is this all about?”
“Your boy, he got in there and trouble started. Next thing we know, the hostages are out, but Jack is still missing. We’ve had them pinned down here since then. I think your boy is trying to take them apart one at a time, and this is the only way out of the control room.”
Spartan ducked down lower and checked his pistol. He’d been in a hundred similar situations and was perfectly aware how a stray round could easily cripple or end his life in an instant.
“Okay, fall back and give them an exit point. Let them use the emergency stairs.”
“What?” cried Lovett, in surprise.
Spartan grabbed him by the shoulder.
“You know this. Think. If we corner them, they will have no choice but to fight. Instead, we give them a way out and then use that against them. Just make sure they think they’ve beaten us.”
Lovett nodded, understanding only too well the military need to always ensure your opponent had a potential escape route. He almost kicked himself for going in so gung ho.
“Security Team Alpha, withdraw to point six and hold,” he called on the intercom.
With precision, the small security unit moved back, each firing the odd shot to cover their retreat. Rather than use the elevator, they took the large double doors that led to the emergency staircase. Like all structures, it was imperative that there was an alternative to the power elevator in times of crisis, and this was certainly one of them. Once through the door, they moved up two levels and then paused. The team fanned out and trained their weapons back down the steps, while Lovett and Spartan planned their next move.
Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1) Page 5