Fall of Terra Nova

by Michael G. Thomas

  “I…feel a bit faint,” she said weakly.

  Bishop excused himself and helped her from the table.

  “You need a hand there?” asked Spartan.

  “No, she’s very tired. A few hours rest should do the trick.”

  * * *

  Sanlav ducked back down from the railing and moved to the waiting men. It was dark, and the clouds over Yama City blotted out large parts of the city. The shadows were ink black and gave no tone or detail away. Rain fell further out into the city, giving a damp and miserable feel to the group of fighters clustered in the ruins. As he moved down, he thought back to where he had been a year before. It was incredible, but he had been transformed in a short time. On board the CCS Crusader he had been simply a lieutenant on a gun deck, but now he was the leader of a group of freedom fighters. It was something he could never have imagined, and a position he had never wanted. He jumped over a crevice in the masonry and landed near the waiting fighters. Caladus and a dozen heavily armed civilians waited off to his right. Each of his fighters were crouching down low beside a burnt out transport vehicle.

  “Well?” asked Caladus from his secure position.

  “The shuttles are there, but we have a problem.”

  “What is it?”

  He didn’t reply immediately as a sound from one of the streets far behind them caught his attention. With a quick hand signal, a number of his marines trained their rifles and carbines in the direction of the sound. He lifted his night vision glasses and examined the building. The wind blew debris, and a number of crates slid across the road. Satisfied they were safe for the time being, he turned back to Caladus.

  “We have a security problem. Somebody must have tipped them off. I count over a dozen heavy Biomechs and at least fifty infantry. They aren’t just standing around either. The Biomechs are waiting near the shuttles, and the troops are split into groups patrolling the perimeter.”

  Caladus considered the predicament.

  “I don’t like it. Do you think they know we’re coming? Maybe they are just taking extra precautions being as these are the last prisoners being sent away.”

  “Perhaps. There are dozens of transports out on the landing bays though. They must be taking out thousands of people.”

  “Between both of us, we can must nearly thirty fighters. That’s enough to take on their infantry, but not the Biomechs. Screw that. What about your friends? I thought you’d made agreements.”

  Special Agent Johnson pushed ahead.

  “Don’t worry about them, they’ll be here.”

  Almost on cue a flight of fighters rushed overhead. It was impossible to tell what kind of aircraft they were, but the odds were that they were turncoat pilots flying Lightnings. They were the most common aircraft and perfectly suited for all kinds of operations on Kerberos. As they reached a position over the shuttles and transports, they started dropping off flares.

  “They must know we are out here. Those flares are a diversion for our heat seeking missile systems.”

  “They would be, if we had any!” said Captain Erdeniz with irony in his voice.

  “Sir, look!” said one of his marines.

  The group looked off to the other side of the escarpment to spot a snaking column of people. From their position it was almost impossible to make out details, but they were clearly armed, and there were well over thirty of them.

  “Your friends?” asked Caladus.

  As if to answer his question, one of the people flashed a dark green torch in their direction. The pinprick of light was difficult to pinpoint, but it did its job.

  “That’s the signal. They should be the survivors of the industrial precinct.”

  “I thought you said there were over two hundred of them.”

  Johnson moved to the right of Caladus and whispered across to him.

  “There were before the Biomechs cleared the place up last week. Last we heard was that over half had been captured. I reckon this is all that made it out.”

  “Cover me,” ordered Erdeniz. Before they could reply, he dashed across the battle-scarred stonework to reach the group. It was only fifty or so metres, but as he moved, the rest of the fighters stood in silence. They each held their breath, praying he would make it. He prevailed and slid down next to the nearest of the group. As he arrived, he was met by a dozen rifles and all pointed directly at his chest.

  “Captain Erdeniz, I presume?” asked an almost amused sounding woman.

  He stood for a second, desperately trying to make out the woman’s face. The dull light from the flares gave her face some form but not enough to recognize her by.

  “Where is Manager Carter? I was told he was coming here.”

  “Good luck with that. He was taken this morning by a hunter team. We’re down to thirty-seven. Give it another day, and we’ll probably be half that number. We didn’t know whether to split or come here. There might be one other group left, but the last I saw of them was when five Biomechs chased them into the ruined tractor complex. Maybe they made it, maybe they didn’t. Either way, the place was destroyed by bombers an hour later.”

  Erdeniz shook his head at the news.

  “I’m sorry to hear that. So they still have troops in the city as well?”

  “Looks that way, from the columns of trucks we spotted half an hour ago, I would say they are starting a full scale evacuation of the city.”

  “How many trucks?”

  “We lost count after eighty. They are being protected by about a hundred militiamen, too many for us to take on with just thirty-seven people. Is the plan still on?”

  Captain Erdeniz was shocked by the news. He knew the Union was taking a large percentage of their troops as well as numbers of prisoners, but he never thought they would take so many.

  “Yes, that’s why we’re here. The plan is simple. We hit the port area before they finish loading, and slow them down long enough to get some of the civvies armed and turn the entire place into a warzone. They don’t have many troops left, so if we make it too costly, they will be forced to leave or bring in reinforcements. Do you know the area?”

  She nodded.

  “I know the area well. We did a recce two days ago when we first heard about this operation. The army barracks is nearby.”

  “Good. We start the operation in thirty minutes. I need your forces to create a diversion. Hit the spaceport from the west and spread out. Cause as much damage as you possibly can, but try not to lose your people.”

  “Okay, and you?”

  “We’ll hit the command post and barracks. With them knocked out, we should be able to clear the site of hostiles. If we are lucky, we might find extra help for those spare firearms.”

  “What about their reinforcements?”

  “We have another group working on that. Based on the numbers, we calculate less than a thousand troops remain on this planet. If we are fast and bold, we have a chance to end this occupation before they realize we are even here. Are you ready?”

  “Yep. What about your people?” she asked expectantly. She looking into the darkness and strained her eyes. It wasn’t easy, but she desperately wanted to see if the Captain had brought the kind of numbers she had been expecting.

  “We’re all here. You just make sure you keep them busy, and we’ll do our bit.”

  * * *

  Misaki and Bishop made their way to the guards’ station. It had taken almost five minutes for them to reach this part of the ship, and already the number of civilians pushing their way around was becoming irritating. The ship was apparently an expensive liner used to carry up to five hundred people in exquisite luxury to various destinations. Bishop had seen one ship like it before as it carried people on a yearlong voyage between Terra Nova and Prime. As they approached the entrance to the passenger section, they stopped at the hastily erected security station. Two heavily armoured marines guarded it, yet Bishop was less than impressed by the position. From what he could see, the lax measures taken by the civilians w
ould prove almost useless in a crisis.

  “Name?” asked the civilian guard. Bishop looked at the man and then over to the nearest marine. The two stood motionless, yet paid neither him nor Misaki any attention. He couldn’t see how two motionless and inattentive guards, plus one gruff looking civilian, would stop foul play.

  “Your name, marine?” snarled the man.

  Bishop leaned closely towards the man who recoiled slightly at his approach.

  “Why the rudeness? We’re all here for the same reason.”

  He looked over to the marines and back to the civilian in his fancy dress uniform. It was something of an anachronism, yet on this extravagant ship he had seen many others. He could only assume this was the company’s uniform.

  “Why are civilians running the security details here?”

  The man pulled at his jacket before replying.

  “This is a first-rate civilian passenger liner. We never asked to be drafted into the military for this operation.”

  “So what? Do you think anybody will hire you and your ship if the Union control this sector?”

  As they spoke, Misaki tapped away on her datapad. Bishop could not quite make out what she was up to, but from experience it would be something that would get him into trouble. The man cleared his throat and tried again.

  “Please, Sir, what is your name and what is your business?”

  “Better. My name is Bishop, Sergeant Bishop, and this is Misaki SatM.”

  “Your business?”

  “None of yours. Check your roster, and you’ll find me on the list.”

  The man shook his head but said nothing more. He ran his hand along a list on his computer system until reaching one of their names.

  “Ah, yes. I have you here, Sergeant. Miss SatM, you are not on the marine roster.”

  “Does she look like a marine?” asked Bishop.

  He pointed at her, and as if to emphasise the point she struck a pose. Her tight trousers, and less than conservative blouse, seemed to attract his attention. Bishop spotted him looking a little too attentively at her.

  “Miss SatM is on attachment to our tech unit for the time being. She should be down on the…” he was cut off by the man who quickly regretted not waiting.

  “Yes, here we are. Miss Misaki SatM, R&D department. You are both clear to enter.”

  “What?” Bishop demanded.

  “You may enter the passenger decks.”

  “What about checking who we are?”

  “Well, Sir, I’ve already asked you this.”

  Bishop shook his head in irritation.

  “We could have lied.”

  He turned to Misaki who was still working on her datapad.

  “Come on, let’s go.”

  “One second...hold on.”

  He waited patiently until she finally finished whatever it was she was working on. Bishop led the way and Misaki followed a short distance behind until they were through the double doors and approaching an open plaza-type space.

  “What were you doing?” he asked.

  “Give it a few more seconds and you’ll see.”

  The open area was actually a triple-width corridor but decked out with marble on the walls and floor. The ceiling was a single panel of what appeared to be glass. Bishop had heard of this level of artificial surface modelling before, but he had never seen one as extravagant as this. It gave the impression of a domed ceiling made entirely of glass that provided exquisite views of space. In reality, the ceiling was no different to any other part of the ship. It was merely a three-dimensional projection, in much the same way as those used to create the bridge on military ships, but without real windows.

  A series of red lights started to flash at intervals where they stood until their intensity increased, and a number of alarms triggered. The response from a rapid security team was impressive. In less than thirty seconds, four men in civilian work clothes and two marines rushed back towards the security post.

  “What did you do, Misaki?”

  She smiled but said nothing. Voices of somebody shouting came from behind, and the security man they had been speaking with appeared, flanked on both sides by the newly arrived marines. As he was taken away, he threw a bitter glance at the two of them.

  “That was you?” asked a surprised Bishop.

  “Well, not entirely. I merely implied he might have been on the take.”

  “What?”

  “It’s okay, once they run checks, they’ll find it is down to a simple auditing error on the system.”

  Bishop sighed.

  “And how long will it take for the checks to be carried out?”

  “Well, that is up to how efficient they are. At least three to four hours, I would think.”

  Another group of marines move past, and one stopped in front of them.

  “Bishop, Sergeant Bishop?” he asked in a thick accent.

  Bishop looked at the man; he was also a sergeant but slightly older and heavily scarred. His dark black skin was unusual in the Corps with the larger than average percentage of Hispanic and Caucasian men. The patches and insignia on his uniform indicated he was from the 5th Reconnaissance Battalion, the elite commando unit of the Marine Corps.

  “Yes, that’s me.”

  “You know Spartan and Teresa?”

  “Yes.”

  “I thought it was you. I’m Marcus Keller. We all went through the training programme together. I don’t know if you remember, but I was one of the prisoners, along with General Rivers and Spartan, that you helped rescue.”

  He turned to Misaki and nodded politely.

  “And who might you be?”

  “Misaki SatM, at your service,” she replied, almost comically.

  “Oh, yes, I’ve heard about your technical work. I didn’t quite expect to see somebody quite as attractive on this rust bucket.”

  Bishop looked pained at his painful flirting, but Misaki seemed to be enjoying the attention.

  “Tell me, Sergeant. What is happening here?”

  “Nothing serious. Looks like there was some kind of security sensor problem. We have people working on it. Look, I need to go. Perhaps the three of us could meet up later?”

  Bishop was prepared to make an excuse, but the look on Misaki’s face told him otherwise. He opened his mouth to speak, and she nodded before a word left his lips.

  “I’ll contact you on the comms system. In the meantime, you probably want to go and sort out your quarters. See you later.”

  He turned from the two, moving through the door where the rest of the marines were checking the computers. Bishop stopped and looked at her sternly.

  “What the hell was that all about?”

  Misaki feigned surprise and pointed at him.

  “Is poor Bishop feeling jealous?”

  He said nothing as he watched her stand in front of him, but his body language told her more than any words.

  “Look. We met on Prometheus and shared a terrible experience. It would be good to talk and meet up again.”

  “Talk. That all you want?”

  “Well, it’s not like I spent time with you for that, is it?” she asked with a wicked grin.

  “Come on, let’s see what our quarters are like.”

  She moved on ahead and continued through the beautifully detailed decor of the ship. A number of sailors and marines were moving about, most carrying equipment and supplies. A small number of the personnel on board travelled light and were probably looking for their quarters as well.

  “Where is your place?” asked Misaki.

  “To the right and next to the secondary escape deck. That’s it, there,” he said, pointing in the direction they needed to follow.

  Misaki moved ahead, quickly reaching a circular door protected by a security panel. As he moved closer, a light flashed on and a holographic face appeared to the right of the panel.

  “Good day, Sergeant Bishop. Your quarters are ready. Please enter your security information.”

&nbs
p; “Nice AI and sensor suite,” said Misaki, genuinely impressed with the equipment.

  “Yeah, the perks of staying on a liner right?”

  He pushed his hand to the panels where it his fingerprints were scanned.

  “Thank you, please enter,” continued the security unit. The door slid open with no discernable sound. They stepped forward and looked inside. It was a large suite that was probably designed for a single family. Bishop moved in first, gawping at the wooden furnishings and the substantial amounts of crystal and glass covering almost every surface. The beds had been removed and replaced by three bunks. Each doubled up to provide sleeping space for six. On the floor were a number of military issue bags, obvious by their labelling and urban camouflage pattern. Bishop checked them until finding his and pulled it over to one side.

  “Yeah, that’s mine,” he said.

  “Where are the others?”

  Bishop shrugged.

  “We’re earlier than expected, maybe the next transport. Why?”

  She turned to the door and pushed it shut. She stood there, facing away from him and pulled her blouse upwards and dropped it on the floor. She turned to face him with just her tight fitting pants and dark blue bra.

  “Hey, not here. What if somebody comes in?”

  She stepped forward and pushed him to the nearest bed. It caught the back of his knee as he fell back. She jumped on top of him.

  “You know what I want!” she said with a wicked look on her face.

  Bishop reached up with his hands around her, and with a few clicks undid her bra. It dropped off behind her leaving her naked from the waist up.

  “Come on, Bishop, now!” she shouted.

  A loud thump signalled the opening of the door, and in walked four men. Each was wearing marine fatigues and carried small bags.

  “Nice!” exclaimed the first.

  “Yeah, can we get in on that?” asked the second.

  Bishop sat up surprised and embarrassed. Misaki, on the other hand, just started laughing. Another man entered the room. It was Sergeant Keller. As he spotted the two, he stopped and grinned.

  “You two didn’t waste any time, now did you?”