“Well?” asked Lovett.
“Now we wait. As you said, there is only one way out, and I’ve already disabled the elevator. Either Jack will finish them all off, or he will fan them this way.”
One of the guards, a new man that Spartan didn’t recognise, looked unimpressed.
“He’s just a kid, what if they kill him?”
Spartan tried his best not to laugh, and it was left to Lovett to explain.
“The kid is Jack, Spartan’s son. You don’t need to worry about...”
The doors kicked open, and a small group rushing in interrupted them. As they moved inside, a volley of well-aimed shots tore at them and forced them to cover. Spartan watched carefully, checking on both their numbers and their disposition. He wasn’t impressed. Although they appeared well armoured and equipped with heavy weapons, it was clear that not a single one of them had any kind of mask or helmet to protect them from shock or stun weapons. He leaned back and looked to Lovett.
“They’re amateurs. Stun them and move in with batons. You shouldn’t need firearms for this one,” he said seriously.
Lovett flicked a button on the side of his weapon to deactivate it and slid the gun to his side, removing a baton from his belt. It looked like an ancient mace, but it actually stored a high-capacitance charge that could knock out a man with one strike.
“Hammand,” whispered Lovett to one of the guards. The man crept over and took a stun grenade from him.
“On my signal, flash the place, then we go in. Got it?”
One of the men tossed a headset over to Spartan. It wasn’t just for the communications, it was mainly the sound deadening and white noise generator built into its electronics. He pulled it on and felt an odd sensation as it activated, blocking out extraneous sounds like enhanced noise-cancelling headphones.
The guards nodded in agreement. Spartan knew it was risky, especially being as the men at the bottom of the stairs were heavily armed and intent on causing damage. The armour and stun gear used by his company was the best, and they would be safe from most attacks, even at close range. The man lifted the grenade and activated the charge. With the nod from Lovett, he dropped it down the stairs. Its rubberised outer coating deadened the sound unlike the metallic weapons usually used. It seemed to take an age for it to reach the bottom. Then it activated.
The flash lit up the entire staircase and was followed by a howl of energy. Spartan knew full well the cost and capabilities of the device. It had been developed for ATU tactical units and was designed to incapacitate groups of people much larger than the one waiting for them. The security team were already halfway down the stairs before he chased after them. Spartan may have been by far the most experienced, but he knew what was sensible; charging into battle with almost no armour was a big mistake. Only when they started swinging their maces, did he finally jump into the fray. The numbers were equal, and the security team had surprise on their side. Even so, Lovett was knocked backwards by something, and as Spartan arrived, he realised another two men had just come through the door and had avoided the blast of the weapon.
“Watch out!” he yelled and leapt from halfway up the bottom level of the staircase to crash into the two men. The pair fell to the floor before they were able to fire with Spartan on top of them. One rolled out of the way, but Spartan was able to twist the right arm of the second all the way behind his back into a classic lock. With the smallest amount of pressure, he could exert massive pain. The rest were either cuffed or unconscious, apart from the final man who had evaded Spartan’s grasp. The man stood up and pointed his weapon directly at Spartan.
“Let him go, or I’ll blow a hole in your chest!” he barked.
Spartan wore a smart suit, and there was little chance they would know he was wearing ballistic armour beneath it. Even so, he didn’t want to chance the penetration level in anything other than a controlled training scenario. The door swung open, and the dark shapes of two more men arrived, each pointing weapons at the man with the shotgun.
“Do that, and I’ll spread your brain across the wall!” said the shorter of the two.
The man looked about nervously and back to Spartan. Something in his face told him this man was trouble. The lines about his cheeks tensed, and Spartan knew exactly what was coming. A loud roar ripped through the room, and the man snapped back, a bullet hole directly into his forehead. He smashed into the wall and dropped to the floor.
“Spartan?” asked the new arrival as he held his smoking firearm.
Spartan’s heart was pounding as the form of a young man, and at what looked like a thick set and well-built ogre, entered the room. The form of a Jötnar was unmistakable, but it was the young man that surprised him. He moved closer and stood in front of Spartan. He wore close-fitting armour of a type he was unfamiliar with and carried a modified Jötnar weapon that had much in common with the prototype coilguns he had seen on Terra Nova. Professional interest almost took him to the gun first, but it was his son Jack after all. Spartan lowered his weapon and exhaled slowly, glad the ordeal was over.
“What the hell are you doing here, Jack?”
His son looked back at him with a grim expression. Though barely eighteen, his aged face gave him the look of somebody almost ten year older. He was almost two metres tall, black haired and sported a rough looking scar that ran from his neck up to his ear. He moved ahead and examined each of the men before returning to Spartan, evidently more concerned with his job than speaking with Spartan.
“These aren’t the ones we need. This is just an intelligence cell.”
Spartan reached out and grabbed him.
“Jack, what is going on?”
His looked up.
“There’s a plan to bring down the Network by the anti-Biomech groups, and these guys are part of it.”
The Jötnar rolled over the body of the fallen man and then joined Jack and Spartan. He reached inside his armoured chest protector and brought out a leather package. It looked about the size and shape of an old book. He extended his hand to Spartan and gave him the object.
“I am Wictred. This is from my father, Khan of the Jötnar. He said you would understand.”
Spartan took it and looked at the worn and marked leather before moving closer so that nobody else could hear. He spoke directly into Jack’s ear.
“Director Johnson is here from Alliance Intelligence. He wants to speak to you about this.”
The Jötnar smiled at the news and even Jack seemed to grin. Their attitude took Spartan completely by surprise. Jack finally spoke, breaking their confused silence.
“Good, he said he’d find a way to meet face to face, so this must be it.”
Jack and Wictred then walked to the staircase and started to move up. As they reached the next level, Jack turned back to look at his father.
“Well, are you coming?”
CHAPTER FOUR
The ground combat that took place at the battle of New Carlos in the later years of the War saw some of the largest battles of the War. Both the Marine Corps and the Army fought a series of desperate last stands until aided by the improvised engineers from the Marine Corps. The heavy armour and weapons proved vital in stemming the tide against the Biomech attacks and established the reputation of the Corps on a dozen worlds. This reputation continued on to the newly formed Alliance Marine Corp that was formed following the victory at Terra Nova.
Great Battles of the Confederate Marine Corps
ANS Beagle drifted a short distance from its arrival point as the crew and engineers worked against time to get the system ready. Captain Raikes supervised the myriad of tasks, but ultimately, it was down to the volunteer crew to return all the systems back to full capacity. He looked at his management console and noted that over seventy percent of systems were now operational. It was an improvement, but he was still unsure they would actually be ready in time for the reconnection to the bridge. There was a fixed time slot that had been pre-arranged with the engineers back at the Prometheu
s Seven Trading Post. When the Rift reappeared, they would have the time and power to do one of two things. Either they created their own spherical shell of energy at Orion to balance the bridge, or they would have to travel back through before the link became untenable and collapsed. He wiped his brow and looked over to the clock.
Fifty-one minutes left, this is going to be close.
“Captain, I’m detecting several fluctuations in the power levels of the habitation assembly,” said one of the technicians just a short distance from him.
Captain Raikes had only a limited number of crew on the ship, and it was essential that he prioritised them for the connection.
“Is it serious?” he asked impatiently.
“It is within tolerable limits but will have to be resolved in the next forty-eight hours.”
The Captain nodded quickly and moved back to his display.
“Understood, it can join the list of a hundred other things to do when this is sorted out. Let me know if it changes in the meantime.”
On his main screen the percentage of active systems increased yet again, and for the briefest of moments, he thought it might actually work. They had less than an hour to go before the designated time. A beeping sound caught his attention. It was coming from the desk where the Chief Engineer sat. The man turned to look at him.
“Good news, Sir. I’ve stopped work on all non-essential systems, and the rift generator gear is now ready to start activation,” he explained, his face slightly red from the stresses of getting the system ready.
Captain Raikes glanced at his display and noted the system status of all the major components of the station. Every single one showed up in green, and even he found it difficult to disguise the look of surprise on his face.
“Excellent work, I didn’t doubt you for a second!”
The Chief Engineer did his best to smile but was well aware the doubts the Captain had about getting the damaged system up and running. More importantly, he was surprised they’d got so far. Captain Raikes checked the diagnostic summaries himself before speaking again. He was normally a calm and collected individual, but the worries of this mission had revealed his deeply hidden insecurities of failure. In the past, he had managed an almost completely perfect career with just a single black mark on his file. It was his rush to create the first one-way rift over a decade ago that had left a crippled station and a lost ship. Only the data from Hyperion had put his career back on track. Even so, the loss of so many people, and his fly by the seat of his pants nature, had won him both friends and enemies in the scientific and naval community. He lifted his eyes from the system and back to the Chief Engineer.
”We don’t have a moment to waste. Start up the main systems, and let’s get the preliminary work on the connection to Prometheus active ASAP,” he said happily. “We need to be ready the minute the Rift opens.”
It had been almost half a day since they’d arrived, and not a minute went by with him pondering the chance that they could end up trapped in the Orion Nebula over a thousand light years from home. The automated drone was only a short distance from the moon now, but even that seemed low priority to him right now. They would have days, weeks, probably years to chase around the planets, but not if the Rift failed to work correctly.
The activation sequence was already well underway, and he watched with pride as his expert team rerouted the power from their powerplants to capacitors in readiness to establish the link. It would use nearly three-quarters of their reserves to activate the Spacebridge, but once running, it would use a fraction of the power to maintain the link. This assumed that the same was taking place on the other side, of course.
Let’s just hope they are ready to complete the link!
“How long do we have until the sequence starts?” he asked.
“Forty-three minutes, Sir,” came back a quick reply from the engineer monitoring the computing system for the bridge.
Captain Raikes was looking at his screen when an odd feeling of nausea ran through his head. A loud crunching sound hammered through the metal plating, and he found himself drifting out of his chair as if the vessel had just struck something. He reached out and grabbed a computer console, but only just in time. A number of technicians flew past him, their bodies spinning uncontrollably.
Gravity is off!
He pulled himself close to the computer in time for the lights to all flicker and cut out through the CIC. Only the dull red glow of the emergency lights gave any break from the eerie blackness of the interior as they activated. Shouting and screams echoed inside, and he was forced to bellow at the top of his voice.
“Clam down, and find out what the hell is going on!”
Captain Raikes were already adjusting to the low-level red lighting, and he could already identify two people that were not moving. He assumed they were unconscious, but there was no easy way to tell from his current position. A technician managed to get part of his diagnostic system active, but the main systems were still down.
“Sir, the power units are offline. Somebody has shut them down.”
“What?” responded the Captain, now furious that his vessel had been disabled.
“How is that even possible?”
The Chief Engineer nodded in agreement at the information from his technician. Although his own display was out of action, there wasn’t a part of the ship he wasn’t familiar with.
“That sounds right. If the habitation ring suffers a catastrophic failure, the main drives and engine units are shut down. It’s a safety mechanism to ensure power isn’t routed to the heavy engineering, especially the motors. I’d say we have a saboteur on board, and whoever it is, they have a thorough knowledge of our systems.”
Captain Raikes lowered his head into his right hand; the weight of the problems was bearing down on him, and he was running out of ideas. He glanced about briefly, but most of the systems were still offline.
“Sir, there is only one part of the ship where the habitation controls and powerplant conduits come close to each other. There’s a good chance the damage was caused there.”
“And that’s where we might find our saboteur. In the meantime, get me comms. I need to speak with Admiral Anderson. If we cannot get our systems active again fast, we will have to start a general evacuation to the Rift.”
“Already on it, give me a moment.”
Lieutenant Davies pulled himself along until he reached the Captain. He had gone through zero-g training like most marines and moved through the craft quickly and efficiently. He drifted at head height and was forced to shout for the Captain to even spot him.
“Sir, my marine comms system is independent of the ship’s. My entire platoon has checked in, apart from one group near the habitation control station. I think it might...”
The Captain lifted his hand and nodded.
“Yes, that is where the problem is. Lieutenant, how soon can you have a team there?”
The young marine paused or a few seconds as he visualised the route in his head. It wasn’t a long distance and normally required the use of the elevators to descend to the correct level. With no gravity, he could simply drift there.
“About four, maybe five minutes, Sir.”
“Good, get on it. I suspect you will find our saboteur. Trust nobody and stay in contact.”
The marine saluted and turned to move away before the Captain grabbed his arm.
“Leave a squad here. There’s a chance they might try and take the CIC.”
Lieutenant Davies nodded and then kicked away from the wall to push himself towards the entrance to the CIC. Captain Raikes watched in surprise as the man made quick progress and faded into the blackness of the ship. He looked back to his crew.
“Where are my comms?” he demanded.
Out in the corridor, the small unit of marines were already using the grab handles to pull themselves at a good rate along the walls and ceiling. To any of the crew watching them move past, it must have looked as if the ship had been infest
ed with creatures of some kind. In just two minutes, they were at the service elevator shaft and opening the access hatch. Lieutenant Davies was first inside, closely followed by more than a dozen of his comrades who had assembled near the CIC before the incident.
“Follow me. We need to secure the habitation control station. Potential hostiles in the area, so keep your eyes open.”
With those few words, they disappeared into the blackness of the tunnel. Most activated their suit-mounted lamps to send beams of yellow through the dusty environment. The shaft led from the command decks down past the many engineering levels. It seemed to take an age for the silent and motionless group to reach the platform to the side that was marked up as a service entrance. Lieutenant Davies helped the rest of his team reach the same spot before checking his weapon. Like all Alliance marines, he carried the L52 Mark II Assault Carbine, the most advanced and numerous weapons in the arsenal. It had replaced the previous L48 rifle in the last decade, and its flexibility and variable fire modes made it perfect for use in space, on land or on board ships. A simple silent operation mode could be selected by twisting the barrel. It reduced the energy to the coils and reduced the velocity to subsonic speeds. This also reduced the noise, but more importantly, the depth of penetration, a vital requirement for operations where a projectile tearing through the hull could kill them all.
With just a nod, the Sergeant of the platoon, a gruff old marine called Tex, activated the door and used the bypass to open the metal mechanism. It slid open to reveal nothing other than yet another dark room. Lieutenant Davies tilted his head and motioned with his left hand for them to enter. The first three moved inside and into the open lobby type room. There would normally be a dozen people moving about, but with the loss of power and gravity, it was deserted.
Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1) Page 6