The homeworld of the Jötnar had been transformed from a deserted jungle planet into thriving yet violent community. Wooden compounds and structures filled the islands and tens of thousands of Biomechs farmed, built and traded. Unlike any other part of the Alliance, all Biomechs that were sent to Hyperion were given a chance of a new life. Most chose to join the Jötnar but some refused, instead wanting to strike out on their own. These rebels fought in the Jötnar Mutiny that resulted in the deaths of many Jötnar.
The downfall of Hyperion
With the artificial gravity now fully operational, Lieutenant Davies was able to assess the situation. His team had so far discovered two booby-traps that had been left behind to cover the escape of whoever had tried to cause so much damage to ANS Beagle. According to Sergeant Tex, if they’d been another ten minutes, the redundant systems would have also been put out of action, and therefore rendering the entire rift generating hardware irrelevant. One squad stayed to protect the control station, and the rest of the platoon moved out to cover five separate areas that controlled the power levels to the rift generator. Lieutenant Davies led three marines to the nearest evacuation platform. It was a small area that functioned as both an emergency shelter and a lifeboat.
“LT, why didn’t they just hit the engines to start with?” asked Private Martok.
The group of four had already reached the platform, and as expected, it was deserted. Lieutenant Davies checked the control-panel next to the airlock leading to the lifeboat.
“Looks okay,” he said, turning to Martok.
“Good question. Well, I suppose they wanted to cut the habitation system to make it harder for us to reach it before they disabled the engines.”
“True, Sir, but we still lost the engines. What’s their game plan?”
That was a question he really couldn’t answer. None of it made any sense to him. First, they must have sabotaged the engines, then they cut the power and habitation systems, so they had to come down to investigate. After that, they restarted the system.
Yes, that’s it!
“How else would they force a shipside restart and powering up of the engines? Without the habitation unit going offline, the powerplants would have simply shifted power. It must have been the surge of power and fuel that destroyed the engines.”
Tex glanced inside the lifeboat and then to his Lieutenant.
“Could be, but if that’s true, it means the saboteurs are members of the crew. What would they have to gain by doing this? All we’re doing is...”
A gentle click caught their attention from ten metres away. All four marines lifted their weapons, but it was already too late. From out of the shadows emerged the shape of Jensen. None of them recognised the crewman, but his blood-splattered overalls marked him out as either one of their saboteurs or a crewmember that may have been caught up in the fighting. It was the belt of gas canisters running around his body like a bandolier of shells that stopped any of them firing.
“One move and I detonate the whole lot!” he snapped. In his right hand he held a pair of wires with the stripped ends held apart by no more than a centimetre.
“Easy now!” said Lieutenant Davies in as calm a voice as he could manage. “Tell us what it is you want.”
Jensen looked at each of them in turn before extending his left arm to show a military tattoo. He was at least a decade older than all of them, other than Tex. The Sergeant instantly recognised the marking.
“What do you care what I want?” he spat out.
Tex nodded as he looked at the man’s arm.
“You’re one of the survivors from the Santa Maria. You must have been there at the Battle of the Rift?” he asked with genuine interest, forgetting for a moment that the man was wearing a suicide vest and threatening them all with a potentially horrific end. Even now, it was only just occurring to Lieutenant Davies that they were positioned only a short distance from the outer skin of ANS Beagle.
“Uh...ah!” he cried and inched the two frayed wires slightly closer.
“That’s it, stay there.”
Lieutenant Davies looked to his side but could see nothing he could immediately use to improve their situation. The door to the lifeboat was shut, and this man could easily kill them before they could move even a metre away. The man looked at a device on his arm and smiled to himself.
“Soon...not long now.”
“Hey, man, we don’t want trouble. Just tell us what your grievance is. You know the Alliance Navy, they look after their own,” said Martok.
Those last words appeared to grate with Jenson more than anything else any of them had said. While they continued talking, Lieutenant Davies whispered into his suit’s intercom.
“This is Lieutenant Davies,” he began. “We’re trapped on Level Four at the secondary lifeboat station. Saboteur is here and armed with an...”
“Silence!” called out Jenson. He took a step forward and moved the cables even closer.
“If one of you speaks again, I will detonate this belt,” he shouted and looked down at the many containers strapped to his body.
“This has nothing to do with me. This is for all of humanity and for our brothers and sisters that died at the hands of Echidna and her unholy monsters. You fools will consign us to history if you keep pursuing the demon Echidna and her children.”
Off to one side, the shape of a woman appeared. She wore Navy overalls and looked like any one of the hundreds of crew that roamed the great vessel. She moved closely to the man and pulled a thermal shotgun out from beneath her jacket, pointing it directly at the marines.
“Hey, you’re Ensign Christy. You are on the sick list,” exclaimed Lieutenant Davies.
He’d checked the rota before the start of the mission and had been keeping a close eye on those that came and left ANS Beagle prior to the operation.
She must have hidden on board before we left over a week ago.
He’s right, you know,” she said with a sickening smile. “Too many good people died to give us this technology, and for what? We come to Orion, to the source of the Demon. They’ll destroy us all.”
A hiss to their right announced the arrival of one of the boarding parties from ANS Dragon. A group of four armoured warriors clambered inside with their weapons raised and pointing at the two enemies. They moved in and took up positions near one of the exposed bulkheads, and another shape appeared. It was the commander of the unit, Captain Howell. The imposing figure of the marine entered the space and lifted his visor.
“My name is Captain...”
That was all he was able to say before Jenson touched the two ends of the wire together. There was a flicker of a spark between the two contacts, but it was enough time for Lieutenant Davies to leap forward. The woman opened fire but missed him and instead, struck Tex in the forehead. The thermal slugs penetrated the visor and sent his lifeless corpse crashing into the wall. The Lieutenant smashed into the shape of Jenson, and the two staggered and crashed back further into the ship. As they hit the ground, the canisters detonated. The blast created a superhot breach in the ship that instantly killed everyone within thirty metres of the blast. The entire section was filled with blood, fractured metal and debris, but incredibly, the outer hull remained intact.
* * *
The violence of the blast shook ANS Beagle right to her core. Even on the CIC, the vibrations could be felt. A number of alarms were triggered, but it was nothing like when the engines themselves had been detonated. Even so, it appeared the vessel had sustained yet another setback. Captain Raikes shook his head, fearful of even contemplating what might have happened.
“What was that?” he called out.
“Blast on Level Four at the secondary lifeboat station. Internal fire fighting system is in action.”
One of the marines from the corridor entered the CIC.
“Captain, it’s our marines. We just lost contact with a squad at the lifeboat station. Lieutenant Davies isn’t responding.”
The Chief
Engineer altered the main display to bring up the status indicators of each of the ship’s sections. He pointed to the damaged lifeboat station.
“Here, Sir. Looks like there was a blast. It took out one of the manoeuvring thrusters and a backup generator. Nothing we can manage without, so it seems we were lucky.
“Sir, I have Sergeant Travis from ANS Dragon on comms. He says his team has boarded the lower levels and are inside the damaged section.”
Captain Raikes nodded, but deep down he didn’t want to know what had happened.
“Put him on loud speaker.”
“There are bodies everywhere. Looks like there was a blast down here...” the audio cracked for a moment before returning, “bodies of marines...bloody hell, the Captain is here. Sent medevac now. There’s blood everywhere!”
Captain Raikes knew deep down that he’d just suffered major casualties, but the only good news was that the engineering appeared sound. There would be time to mourn their losses later, for now he had one thing to worry about, getting that rift open.
“Understood, Sergeant.” He indicated with his right hand for the standby teams to be sent. “Teams are on the way.”
He then turned to the helmsman who was working closely with the two frigates that had been manoeuvring them into position.
“How are we doing on the positioning?”
The man looked back to him with a hint of a smile.
“Sir, we’re there. Only a few metres for optimum range.”
Thank the Gods! Now, will this thing work? He thought nervously.
The Chief Engineer already had the primary displays showing the Rift and the status of all the main components of ANS Beagle. Every item that was required to create the connection had been double and triple checked to ensure the activation would go to plan. He turned to the Captain and nodded.
“Sir, everything is ready. Distance is correct, and we have enough power to start the capacitors.”
Captain Raikes rubbed his forehead nervously. He had a terrible feeling that once the system was started, they would hit another problem. With the massive levels of energy being created, an attack of some kind could have terrible consequences for both the Rift and ANS Beagle. He reached out and grabbed the intercom microphone.
“Commodore Lewis, we are in position and ready to start the sequence. Are your frigates at a safe distance?”
“Good work, Captain. Yes, they are in formation with my flagship. Proceed with haste. Good luck.”
He tapped a button on the console and switched the system to a ship-wide transmission.
“This is the Captain. We are starting the rift generation sequence. If this works, we will have created the first stable Spacebridge that can reach out this far. Double-check your stations, and if any of you are believers, pray now!”
He replaced the handset, and for a second contemplated the odd idea of praying to a deity in this day and age. It always amazed him how people found God under the most dire of circumstances. Not that he did, but at that very moment, he wished he did. He took a final deep breath and nodded to the Chief Engineer.
“Okay, it’s now or never. Activate the bridge.”
With no more than a nod, the man started up the rift generator sequence. It was the first time the equipment had been used to do this, and it would require almost all the stored energy of the vessel to create the energy capsule at the entrance point. It took just seconds for the generators to reach their peak efficiency and start building up the rift capacitors.
“Ten seconds till activation!”
A low hum reverberated through the structure of the vessel as the capacitors quickly reached their full capacity. It was a short time, but for Captain Raikes it seemed like an eternity. Only when the counter reached zero did he exhale. A great pulse of energy burst from the vessel, and no more than a flash outside indicated the generator had done its job. Captain Raikes watched the indicators on his computer display as the sensors confirmed the Rift’s stability and the status of the Spacebridge itself. His Chief Engineer looked over to him, but it was clear from the expression on the man’s face that all had worked correctly.
“Sir, the Proxima Centauri-Orion Nebula Spacebridge is fully operational.”
Captain Raikes settled back into his chair, a feeling of relief and euphoria kicking in to his body like a drug. He barely noticed the clapping and cheering from the others in the CIC as his body calmed down with the relief.
So here it is then, we have our bridge to Orion. What next? He wondered.
As he considered that question, he was reminded of two things. First there was the issue of casualties from the attack on the ship and second, there was the unusual transmission they had come across when they first arrived. With the bridge in action, they finally had a secure route, and these new potential problems seemed by comparison to be mere procedure.
“Sir, there’s a message from the rescue team. We have a total of seven dead and twelve wounded,” called out the communications officer.
Captain Raikes lowered his chin into his hands as he thought of the losses.
The War is over, so what the hell is going on?
“There’s something else, Sir. They’ve found a few body parts from the saboteurs, but one of them is missing.”
“What?” he demanded as he grabbed the intercom himself and connected directly to the Lieutenant in charge of the rescue party.
“Lieutenant, what’s going on down there?”
There was a short pause before the slightly dulled sound of the marine’s voice replied.
“Captain, the lifeboat was blown out, but the computer system is fragged. No way to tell if it was the force of the blast or somebody released it. We have some part of the bomber, a male. Not a lot left, but I’ve sent the remains for analysis. Sir, one of the marine survivors says there was a woman. There’s no sign of here in the danger zone. Either she escaped in the lifeboat, or she’s still on board.”
“Understood, Lieutenant, I’m sending two more teams to assist you. If she’s on board, I want her, and fast!”
* * *
Commodore Lewis relaxed a little in his cabin as he recalled the sight of ANS Beagle finally securing access to the Spacebridge. In less than a minute, the anomaly had settled down and a stable route had been established back home. It was a major feat for the Alliance in terms of both logistics and engineering, but at a surprising cost in lives. As he lay back and rested, he worried about the troubling news of the saboteurs. With the defeat of the religious fanatics and their allies back during the Uprising, there had been nothing of this level of violence on board Navy vessels for years. In the vicious fighting with the Zealots, it had been common knowledge that they had infiltrated both military and civilian high command. New vetting procedures were in place to ensure the stability, reliability and honesty of all recruits in the military.
All that effort and still somebody slipped through.
Even more troubling was the rumour that it was a loyal faction trying to spare them from taking foolhardy steps into the unknown. He reached over for his secpad and brought up the latest scans from the moons around the nearest gas giant. He’d turned his attention away from the Spacebridge, now that more engineering teams and patrol vessels had arrived to secure the area of space around ANS Beagle. This meant his small taskforce was free to explore the immediate system, planets and moons for anything of note. Thinking of ANS Beagle, reminded him of his own losses in the suicide attack. As always, military requirements trumped social niceties. He’d already arranged for the dead and wounded to be shipped back to Prometheus where they were receiving expert medical attention, and he fully intended to return for their internment ceremonies and subsequent investigation. It concerned him that he had been unable to return with them, but he was also well aware of the importance of this operation. The secpad started flashing, gently at first and then increasing in intensity. It was a video call from his XO.
Great, what is it now? He wondered before hitting the re
ceive button. In his experience, he was only contacted when there was bad news, and so far he’d had quite enough of deaths, attacks and equipment failure.
“Sir, sorry to interrupt you. He
We’ve just regained contact with the reconnaissance drone. It is in position and starting its scan of the surface. We are approximately four hours from making orbit.”
“Very good. Keep me informed of its progress.”
“Sir.”
The image of his executive officer faded away, and the details of the moon returned. He was due to return to the CIC in the next two hours, and this was likely to be the only chance for a short break for at least a day. He had no doubt that if they found anything of note on or near the moon, he and his forces would have their work cut out for them. He closed his eyes, but the image of the moon kept appearing to him, and instead, he sat back up and pulled the secpad to his face. The long distance scans were speculative, and according to his engineers, there was a high margin of error. What intrigued him was that of the large number of planets and moons in this system, surprising numbers showed viable atmospheres. The star system was based around a red subgiant with a size of almost three times that of the Sun back in Earth’s Solar System. The planet they were approaching appeared to contain at least thirty small moons and eight large moons, one of which was still transmitting some kind of signal. He tapped the image of the moon in question and stared at its glowing outline.
What are the odds we find a moon with a potentially stable atmosphere?
Of course, there was nothing random about their arrival, but few outside of the Alliance High Command knew where the data on the Orion expedition had originated. Thoughts of the bridge reminded him of his new mission. With the Spacebridge secure, the maintenance and security of the site had been handed over to Admiral Anderson, and that had now freed up his own force for other missions. His own orders had changed to reconnaissance and consolidation of the Star System, provisionally known as Orion Major. It was imperative that he set up a wide perimeter so that a long-term presence could be established in this sector. His briefing with High Command via video link to Terra Nova had been clear. The Alliance intended on creating a permanent link to the system and would build a supply and research outpost within three months. Parts were already being sent through, to what many back home considered to be the future for humanity. As he looked at his secpad, he doubted their faith in something they knew so little about. He tapped the image of the fourth plant, and it enlarged to fill the screen with long distance imaging and statistics, low gravity, small iron and silicate structure, and a thin corrosive atmosphere.
Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1) Page 8