Chapter 6 Safe Haven
The data crystal Carol had given him raised more questions than answers.
The refinery was a sham, an elaborate cover for something far more important, so on one level the raid had been failure. All that planning, all the risks they'd taken, had been for nothing. No crippling of supply lines, no choke points, no easy targets, no reduction in Malstrom's capacity to enslave and oppress, and no closer to liberation. It was a bitter pill to swallow and he'd have to tell them they'd risk their lives for, well nothing, nothing concrete at least.
Yet at another level this could be the single most important discovery they'd made to date. As far as he could tell, from the fragments of data she'd managed to recover, the refinery was sitting on top of a secret research facility dedicated to exploiting alien tech. Enabling Malstrom to maintain its competitive edge over its rivals and extend its dominance into the furthest reaches of the galaxy. He shuddered at the thought of Malstrom stamping its own particular brand of humanity over everything and everyone. It reminded him of why, against all the odds, they continued to fight. The data also suggested they were looking for something, something important here on Anobar. A few days ago he would have dismissed that idea out of hand, but now all bets were off. He took a deep breath and tried once more to piece it all together.
Two years ago he'd woken up in an underground chamber surrounded by the heavily armoured corpses of a Malstrom black ops squad. He'd no idea now he'd got there, no recollection of who he was, his life was a blank slate waiting to be written on. The first thing he'd noticed was an open channel on the squad commanders comm link picking up a message from Jasper, giving the co-ordinates of the rebel encampment to the drop-ships along with details of their disposition. He knew then he had to warn them. Somehow he'd survived an encounter with Malstrom's Special Forces, so whoever he was, wherever he was, it was safe to assume the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Unless of course he'd been with the Malstrom forces and survived an ambush by the rebels. It had crossed his mind on more than one occasion that if, and when, his amnesia lifted he could find that he'd been fighting on the wrong side. Although given that his style of dress was so different from Malstrom's and the rebels hadn't shot him on sight when they first saw him, something Malstrom tried to do regularly, he considered it unlikely.
He'd found himself running through a maze of underground passages, instinctively he seemed to know the way, emerging half a kilometer from the camp. Where he'd confronted Jasper, minus his cybernetic eye and scar, disabled his bodyguards, and persuaded a number of rebels to follow him into the jungle without so much as breaking a sweat. They'd escaped the drop-ships by following him back into the maze of tunnels, eventually emerging in the hidden self-contained complex he’d woken up in. That everyone, including Malstrom's regular occupying forces, seemed completely unaware of. There were many other passages leading off it but they were all sealed and they'd had more pressing concerns than exploring them. Although in times of emergency he seemed to have the uncanny knack of finding an underground passage or some other hidden escape route.
There were nearly as many theories about the origins of the underground complex they inhabited as there were about him and given his innate unconscious knowledge of it and the passages connected to it many felt the two were linked. Yet they never questioned him about it, they accepted his amnesia for what it was and for that he was grateful.
It was clear he came from some sort of quasi-military background. Although when they analysed his equipment they drew a blank. Any identifying marks such as serial numbers had been erased and much of his equipment appeared to be of a unique, untraceable, custom design. Despite their initial suspicions they owed him their lives and he quickly won their trust and established himself as a leader by organising and carrying out a series of devastating raids. It was one such raid that had given Jasper his now infamous eye and scar.
He shuffled the pieces again in his mind. If Malstrom really were after some piece of hidden alien tech then the answer had to lie somewhere inside the complex maze of tunnels and, judging by his subconscious ability to navigate them, the answer to who he really was. It was clear from the fragmentary data Carol had given him Malstrom though he was linked to it in some way. The only way to drive them off the planet was to find out what they were after and turn it against them. To go deeper into the labyrinth and find out who he really was.
Lucy paged him. “I need you in the cockpit, we're nearly out of fuel and I can't find that damn cavern of yours, just a solid wall of rock where it should be.”
He pulled himself back into the present and sprang to his feet “I'm on it.” he said striding purposefully towards the cockpit.
Lucy was maintaining a holding position, thirty meters or so away from a seemly impenetrable wall of rock, where the continental shelf dropped steeply away to meet the ocean floor. “We've got about ten minutes of fuel left and we're running out of options.”
He eased himself back into the co-pilots seat. “Have you checked the co-ordinates?”
She replied with a withering look.
“In that case hand me the control's I'm taking us in.”
Taking us in where?”
“There.” he said pointed at the rock face as they began to edge forward.
“Talk about the blind leading the blind.” Lucy quipped. “One of these days you’re going to push our trust in you too far.”
Just then Carol poked her head into cockpit. “Turn the radio on there's a planet wide broadcast you need to ...” she stopped mid-sentence as she saw the solid wall of rock looming over them. “What the ...”
“We're kind of busy right now.” said Lucy as the proximity alarms began to sound.
Then suddenly, when they were within ten meters of ramming the rock they juddered to a halt and their skin began to tingle as if a mild electrical charge was being applied to their bodies. It felt like a million ants crawling over every part of them at once. Carol shivered.
“We’re trapped in some sort energy field, looks like a docking web.” Lucky hands moved rapidly across the pilots console fighting to regain control of the ship as she spoke. “Whoever or whatever is controlling it is doing a deep scan of us. I'm trying to block it, but I've never seen anything with this energy signature before.”
Suddenly the tingling sensation stopped. Carol looked at Lucy. She shook her head. “Not me, they must have found what they wanted.”
“Whoever ‘they’ are.”
They both looked at him.
“No good looking to me for an answer, I've got amnesia, remember.”
Carol scowled. “Lucy hold him down, I'm going to get Anna to inject him full of nanobots and see now much our intergalactic man of mystery really remembers.”
Just then the craft juddered and began moving forward again, instinctively they braced for impact raising their hands over their faces. They were within a meter of smashing into the glittering quartz flecked edifice when suddenly the proximity alarms stopped. The rock shimmered and disappeared and instead of the terminal impact they had been expecting they found themselves being drawn into a large, smooth walled, subterranean tunnel. It was wide enough to accommodate the largest ocean going vessels any of them had seen with ease.
He could hear Bryson barking orders over his comm in the hold behind him, mustering them to arms, ensuring they were ready to face what lay at the end of the tunnel. He smiled and turned to Carol. “You were saying?”
“Just as well I recorded it, can't get a signal under all this rock.” she plugged a purple data crystal into the main comm station that sat between the pilot and co-pilot and triggered the playback, projecting a small holovid of the latest planet wide newscast.
The newscast signature theme played as a young female reporter stood in front of a battered sign beside a smoking pile of rubble. She was dressed in the crisp, royal blue, two piece uniform of the Malstrom propaganda corps, sporting a lush head of short cropped blond hair. As the camera panned
across the devastation to show bodies being pulled out of the wreckage she stepped aside so they could focus on the sign 'The New Hope Infirmary'.
“Welcome to New Hope. The site of a devastatingly destructive terrorist attack. Where in the early hours of the morning the infirmary was completely destroyed. Malstrom has deployed a number of search and rescue teams on site, although to date no survivors have been recovered. I have with me the civilian governor of New Hope. Governor what would you like to say to the rebels responsible for this atrocity?”
A thin grey haired man in a faded blue suit, hair receding rapidly from his temples into baldness, stood nervously before the camera. His voice trembled slightly as he spoke. “The civilian administration condemns this unprovoked attack completely and without reservation. There are no military targets in New Hope. This was an act of terrorism not rebellion. We call upon those responsible to lay down the arms and surrender to the legitimate planetary authorities before any more innocent lives are lost. In the meantime the military has our full and unconditional support in pursuing whatever measures are necessary to bring these criminals to justice.”
“Thank you Governor. We now go live to the orbital command station for an update.”
The camera cut to Jasper standing in front of his padded leather chair on the bridge.
“Traitor.” spat Carol.
“We, I, share the deep sense of loss the people of New Hope feel today. A loss inflicted on them by those who claim to be their liberators. Fighting an 'enemy' called Malstrom. An enemy who provided medical supplies, doctors and nurses, doctor and nurses who perished alongside their patients. Today as you weep for your fathers, mothers, son and daughters, we unite in grief with you and weep for ours.”
The camera cut back to the reporter. “Moving words indeed from Commander-in-Chief Jasper...” the scene shifted a series of pictures moving round as if on a carousel, bringing each one of them into focus in turn.
“Looks like we’re on.” said Lucy, as her picture, along with, Bryson, David, Anna, Carol and his rotated round.
“...who announced earlier this morning that the bounty on the criminal masterminds leading the so called rebellion has been doubled in light of this appalling atrocity.”
He turned it off. “You know we really need to get a better PR company.”
“No one believes that crap.” Carol responded.
“They don't have to, but you can't blame them for thinking that a lot of the bloodshed would stop if we simply gave up and accepted the occupation.” added Lucy.
“Well whatever people are thinking right now it looks like we're reached the end of the line.”
They looked up just in time to see their small craft emerge out of the tunnel, breaking the surface of the water in a dimly lit underground cavern of unfathomable dimensions. Ahead of them lights flicked on illuminating a small section. The docking web that had ensnared them was dragging the powerless freighter to one of the smaller docking bays that lined the vast subterranean facility. They glided gently to a halt. The docking web released its grip and adjustable docking clamps locked on to them front and rear lifting their craft clear of the water. A polished metal walkway slid out from the dockside and attached itself to the forward hatch.
“Well it doesn't look like this crate's going anywhere in a hurry.” said Lucy powering down the controls.
An illuminated trail of lights led down the walkway and along the dockside to a small terminal nearby. “Well whoever or whatever is controlling this facility is leading us somewhere, let’s see what they want.” he said moving towards the forward hatch.
After a short and heated exchange of words with Bryson, he persuaded him to power down their weapons and let him go first. He was a good chief of security, but not necessarily the best person to deal with a first contact situation. He emerged from the hatch both hands raised and walked slowly down the ramp onto the dock and towards the terminal. He gestured to the others to follow him. When they were all lined up behind him several metal doors in the rock face slid silently open and half a dozen droids with unknown markings and various attachments rolled out. Bryson and several others powered up their weapons and raised their rifles. The droids stopped and turned towards them, high up in the roof several other systems powered up and illuminated what appeared to be automated gun turrets. He gesture to them to lower their weapons. The turrets powered down and the droids set about their ship attaching fuel lines checking, removing, fabricating and replacing parts with speed and precision.
“Looks like we’re getting a refit.” said Lucy. “I hope you’re not expecting me to pick up the tab for this.”
“Or they're sabotaging our only means of escape,” added Bryson.
“I don't think so.” said Anna. “Whoever is in control could swat us like flies if they wanted to. Is this triggering any memories? ” she added turning to him. “After all your subconscious brought us her.”
He shook his head and was suddenly overcome by a wave of nausea and dizziness.
Anna caught him and ran a quick scan. “Well something is happening, you’re running a temperature and your brain activity is off the scale.”
He pulled himself free and steadied himself. “I'm fine, you'll be the first to know when I'm not.”
His head was pounding, like something was trying to break free inside him. He took a deep breath, he needed to focus on what needed to be done. He cleared his throat and turned to address the ragged band of revolutionaries. In addition to the fourteen who he'd brought with him were Lucy and the team that hijacked the freighter, nineteen all in plus himself. They were the only thing that stood between Malstrom and whatever it was they were after.
“I've asked a lot of you these last two years. I've asked you trust a stranger with no memory of his past. I've asked you to trust me with your lives when I've lead you into battle and now I'm asking you to trust me one more time when I say it’s time to end this war before it destroys us all.” he could see by one or two confused looks they thought he was talking about surrender. He shook his head. “I'm not talking about surrender I’m talking about victory, our victory. The refinery we attacked was a cover for a secret research facility, from intelligence recovered during the attack we believe that Malstrom is searching for a mysterious alien artefact hidden on this planet. They won't stop until they get it or we get to it first and turn it against them.”
He paused to let it sink in. They shuffled uneasily. The silence was palpable, broken only by the hammering and whirring of the droids as they worked on their battered and bruised ship.
“Their files also suggest that I'm linked to it somehow, how I don't know and right now that's not important, but something or someone seems to be guiding me towards it. So I say let’s see where this goes, let get it and use it, whatever it is, to end this war. Who’s with me? ”
Bryn was the first to step forward. “We're the resistance and no one gets left behind.”
Then Bryson, Carol, Lucy, David and the rest followed.
“To victory.” cried Bryn raising his good arm into the air, as the others joined in. “To victory, we're the resistance and no one gets left behind.”
He smiled and hoped and prayed to whatever gods they might believe in he was wasn't leading them into a trap. He took Bryson aside. “I have a feeling we're going to find out who I am one way or another and if you don't like the answer you have my permission to pull the trigger, in fact it’s an order.”
Bryson nodded. “For what it’s worth we've all got our secrets.”
Rebels Page 11
