Fires of Prometheus

by Michael G. Thomas

  “This is the Governor, I see you have all been introduced. This is unfortunate but not at all unexpected. Now that you have had your fun all prisoners will return to their holding areas. Guards, return to entry point Bravo for debriefing.”

  There was a short pause and a number of the people ran back to their cells, some even clambering over the dead or wounded to reach what they considered to be safety. Misaki and two other prisoners stayed out in the open with Spartan and the rest. All were now armed and waiting for something violent and terrible to happen. The speakers clicked once more.

  “Of course, anybody refusing to comply will be dealt with in the usual manner, a short visit to the surface.” There was a chilled silence, as they all stood waiting.

  Almost in perfect synchronisation with his voice the three shapes moved forward to reveal themselves as three-metre tall Biomechs. They were the modified assault troops used so effectively by the Zealots in their struggle against the Confed military. Spartan and his companions, as well as most in the red group, were aware of what they were but many of the others started screaming at the sight of the terrible creatures. They moved to within twenty metres before stopping and lowering their weapons at the group. From this distance they looked like a horrible cross between a human wrestler and an ogre from the old fairy tales. These were no creatures though and were armoured and armed as you would expect to see any other soldier or military vehicle.

  “That’s just great!” said Spartan in a tone that couldn’t have been any less sarcastic.

  General Rivers looked around at their small number and then back to the cells where scores of prisoners were cowering.

  “What’s the plan, General?” Marcus asked him.

  The others looked to him as the guards started to move away and towards the doorway. They walked with the obvious body language of defeated men, certainly not the hired thugs they expected would work in a place like this. One of the men stopped and turned back, two of the others stopped with him. He looked about before looking directly at Spartan and the General.

  “Did you say General? General Rivers?”

  He nodded in reply, saying nothing.

  The guard looked at him closely and then over to Spartan, his expression had already changed from earlier, there was now a hint of something. At first glance it appeared to be hope, but closer examination showed it to be more likely intrigue.

  “I heard rumours about you, yeah, probably over a year ago. Is it true you held off an insurgent assault on a Confed compound singlehanded?”

  General Rivers ignored the waiting Biomechs as he spoke directly to the guards.

  “I was the only one left alive, I can tell you that.”

  The guard looked back at him for a moment and continued his walk to the doorway. For a moment it looked like he would turn back but as he slowed the short figure of Vespis entered, flanked by two armed guards. This time something was different though. Previously the normal security personnel in their dark clothing and body armour flanked him. This time they wore the robes of the Zealots and in Spartan’s experience that usually meant lots of additional armour concealed underneath the fabric. Each of the men carried a crude halberd, a polearm weapon with a vicious looking cutting blade and a sharpened tip. As they approached Spartan sensed something had changed and in his experience, it was rarely good.

  “You were warned, all of you. You had a chance to get out of here, instead you tried to be smart.” Flicking his hand as a signal to the rest of his guards, they each moved off around the group and quickly removed their red arms bands before returning to his side. They were still armed but Vespis didn’t seem to be troubled, probably because of his two guards and the three heavily armed Biomechs that watched over them.

  “Due to your attempted coup you’ve been fast tracked to the Harvesting Centre.”

  “Harvesting Centre?” asked Marcus.

  “Are you deaf?” shouted Vespis and with a hand signal one of the guards approached and smashed his rifle into Marcus’ stomach. The impact was hard and sent him crashing down to the floor in pain. A spurt of blood gushed from his mouth as he hit the ground. General Rivers bent down to help him but one of the Biomechs pointed a large calibre weapon directly at him and turned its head as if to say no. Spartan glanced at the weapon, noticing it was much bigger than the guns he’d seen them carrying in the past. It was easily the size of a heavy machinegun and contained multiple barrels that presumably rotated around a solid core. He almost forgot their situation as he stared at the new and wicked looking firearm.

  “As I was explaining,” said Vespis with an irritated tone, “you will be transferred to the Harvesting Centre! It’s a nice place, just what people like you need. Somewhere we can make use of those fine muscles of yours!” He looked back to the guards. “Shackle them!”

  Spartan moved away from the approaching man. The idea of the Harvesting Centre did little to inspire confidence in his situation. As he started to move he felt the cold metal of a rifle muzzle at his temple. Spartan turned slightly to see it was the guard he had spoken to, he must have turned back to assist in the situation. Vespis moved towards him and gave the guard a harsh look before turning back to Spartan.

  “I’m not asking, prisoner. Do as you’re told or lose your head, that’s your only choice!” he snarled and then moved back to the guard.

  “What are you doing back here? You can go back with your comrades for debriefing, then you’ll return to your cells. You had your chance!” he snapped.

  Three more of the original guards had now moved back near the Biomechs and an argument had erupted though it was too far away for Spartan and his people to hear what was going on. As they stood watching one of the Biomechs twisted its upper body and swung its arm and smashed a guard several metres before he hit the ground. It moved to strike the next man but was grabbed by the other two Biomechs who smashed it down to the floor and tried to hold it down.

  “What the hell is going…!” shouted Vespis before Spartan jumped forward and grabbed his left arm, quickly locking his elbow and twisting it behind his back. He screamed out but Spartan forced his knee into the back of Vespis’ knee, pushing him to the ground in pain.

  Marcus and the General needed no direction and took up positions around Spartan as Misaki stood her ground and lifted her rifle to point at the Biomechs.

  “General, now!” shouted the guard who ducked to avoid being struck by one of the Biomechs.

  Marcus opened fire first and was joined by the General and Misaki as they poured fire into the two Zealot guards. Their fire was accurate and the first man took the impact of almost fifty rounds in the face and chest. As he hit the floor the second Zealot jumped forward towards them. Several rounds slammed through the robes but must have hit his armour as he kept coming. He reached within three metres of Marcus when Misaki leapt out and smashed the butt of her rifle into his face. As he fell down Marcus put a round into his forehead. The rest of the guards picked up other weapons and signalled to Spartan and the others to join them.

  Spartan dragged the still gasping Vespis behind him as he moved towards the fallen Biomech. Around it stood the other two monsters as well as the three guards. The man that seemed to be the leader stepped forward and looked towards Spartan first.

  “You can’t be Confed military, you move like a pit fighter. What’s your name?”

  Spartan tilted his head slightly, surprised at the man’s comments.

  “Spartan.”

  “Ah, the hero of New Carlos. I’ve heard of you. Didn’t you used to fight in the circuit here?”

  “How the hell do you know him?” demanded a less than impressed Marcus.

  “I don’t know him, I’ve heard of him,” he said before turning back to General Rivers.

  “General, we received word almost a month ago they were sending you here. We’ve been getting ready for six months to get out of this place. We have vital intelligence for the Fleet.”

  “Fleet? Who the hell are you, son?”r />
  “It doesn’t matter, you can call me Tigris. I’ve been working undercover here since our patrol was captured. We don’t have long, are you in, General?”

  “We know nothing about you, how can we trust you?”

  Vespis started to struggle and Spartan tensed his forearm to pin the man in place as the colour started to drain from his face.

  “Look, Sir, I want to get out of here just as much as you do but first we have to shut this place down. You cannot believe what is happening here.”

  “Why don’t you tell us?” suggested Spartan.

  The man turned his head in disagreement. “No, no good. You need to see it for yourselves, come on, we need to go.”

  Spartan shouted to him. “Wait. How can we get out? What about the security system and the guards?”

  “We aren’t getting out of here, not yet anyway. We can get somewhere safe though and do some damage at the same time,” said Tigris.

  Spartan looked to General Rivers and Marcus to gauge their thoughts. None of them was particularly happy at the situation but it was better than sitting in the cells waiting to die. General Rivers gave him the nod and then turned to Marcus to whisper something. Spartan looked back to their new allies.

  “What about them?” he asked Spartan, pointing to the two Biomechs, as he did they turned and look directly back at him. The nearest turned his head slightly so that one eye stared directly at Spartan’s face.

  “What about us?” said the creature is a low, growling voice.

  Spartan jumped back in surprise and then looked to his right where Marcus and now Misaki stood. They looked equally confused.

  “Yeah, good question!” replied Marcus in an almost drunken tone.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The use of kinetic weapons so far after their original development has often been considered one of the failings of the Confederate science programmes. Direct energy weapons systems such as particle beans, plasma weapons and lasers have been in development since the early twentieth century. The greatest obstacles to their widespread use was blooming, high power consumption, beam absorption and the lack of an indirect fire capability.

  Experiments with Rayguns

  “We have to move now!” shouted Spartan as he helped Rivers drag the wounded guards from the previous firefight into cover along the wall.

  Spartan looked back to the large metal doorway about twenty metres away from their position. It was still wide open and on the one side the automated weapon turret sat idly with its glowing eye watching the group. Each of them was careful to not get too close to its cone of fire as like the other weapon systems, its job was to ensure no unauthorised personnel crossed its area of control. On the floor were a series of markings that designated areas that were safe and those watched by the weapon system. There was no way through the door without moving in front of its barrels.

  The General himself had already taken a grazing wound to his leg in the firefight. It had been bloody but a quick bandage was all they had time for right now and the injury looked far from critical. As they moved Spartan spotted a Zealot guard taking aim at them. He instinctively pushed the General out of the way and dropped to one knee. As he did he lifted his rifle and fired two aimed shots, both striking the man in the head and neck, forcing him to the floor in agony. Picking himself up he moved back over to the General and continued to help move the injured man.

  “Marcus, covering fire, we need to move back!” he shouted.

  Tigris meanwhile had managed to sneak up to the control panel and had found the only piece of cover behind the console itself. He was still trying to seal the entry door as Spartan and Marcus fired rapid shots in the direction of the recently arrived reinforcements. As he pressed various buttons, the eye and its attached weapon system panned back and forth as it checked for signs of intruders. They’d already held off one wave in a cunning ambush but their numbers were now starting to tell as more and more of them arrived. It couldn’t be long before the Biomechs joined them and then it would be over. Tigris kept hitting a series of buttons but he was getting nowhere. The low pitch tones indicated the system wasn’t going to authorise him.

  “It’s no good, if we can’t seal the door we might as well stop now. They will just cut the fans and in a few hours we’ll all be dead,” said the General as he kept his head down along the sidewall. Each of them was now carrying at least one weapon conveniently taken from the recently killed reinforcements.

  Another dozen guards appeared and two of them threw in small metal canisters that clattered around the floor.

  “Flash bangs!” shouted Marcus who ducked back.

  The rest hadn’t time to move and the whole area vanished in a bright white light that rendered them stunned and unable to focus properly. Spartan landed on his back but already he was trying get up up when he spotted the enemy rushing inside. Summoning all the strength he could find he forced himself back up to one knee and lifted his rifle. His eyesight was blurred and his hearing almost non-existent but that didn’t stop him from pulling the trigger. It looked like slow motion as the gun jumped and rattled as each round burst from the barrel. The enemy, surprised by the return fire, ducked down and unleashed a devastating amount of fire that forced Spartan to the ground. He rolled over to the left and behind a metal bulkhead off to the side. The enemy must have thought they had killed most of the defenders as they rushed inside the doorway to within just a metre of Spartan. As they moved past he looked over and noticed the General and Marcus were starting to come to, but if he just waited there they would be overrun before they were able to get back into the fight. There was no sign of Tigris and he could only assume he had been killed as the men arrived. Mustering all his strength he pushed himself up.

  “Arrgh!” shouted Spartan as he jumped up and hurled himself at the first Zealot guard. The two staggered out into the open but incredibly they managed to stay upright. The others turned in surprise but didn’t shoot for fear of striking the guard. Spartan slammed the base of the pistol grip into the man’s head and then spun around to fire three bursts into the other men. Two fell to the ground dead but a third managed to avoid being hit and moved ahead to Marcus and Misaki who were still rolling about on the ground. The Zealot stopped and aimed at Misaki’s head pulling the trigger but it was too late. One of the Biomechs jumped in the way and took the impact in its chest. It was knocked back a short distance and then aimed its multi-barrelled cannon at the man.

  “Die!” it howled in a monstrous roar and fired a long, savage burst of heavy metal slugs that literally shredded the man before their eyes. Several more Zealots crossed the doorway but were easily cut down by the creature.

  Spartan turned back to the man he’d struck who was still moving on the floor. Taking careful aim he fired a single shot into the man’s temple, not even hesitating to use his weapon.

  “Come on, we can’t hold this place forever!” he shouted.

  Tigris appeared from behind one of the dead Zealots, somehow he must have ducked away after falling in the skirmish and managed to avoid being hit. He jumped up to the panel and hit a series of buttons.

  “No, no way…just give me a…” said Tigris as a high pitch sound emanated from the panel to be followed by the door closing rapidly. As the door shut the lights on the automated weapon systems changed to green.

  “Are they off?” asked a surprised Spartan as he pointed at the weapon system.

  Tigris nodded.

  “How did you know how to do that?”

  “A long story, trust me, we don’t have time for it, not yet.” He moved away from the panel and back to the waiting group of prisoners and guards.

  “How long will it hold?”

  “The system will rearm in ten minutes providing the correct key is entered and trust me, they have it. This is the only way in from the barracks, we have a really small window if we’re going to take it, Spartan.”

  “What’s your plan?”

  “We can take the transit corridor to the
security room and command centre. If we take that we can access the entire compound’s security systems, release the captured ships, the cells and the prisoners. If we’re smart we can maybe cause some trouble at the shipyards on our way out.”

  “Shipyards?” demanded Spartan.

  “Like I said, we don’t have much time, we should go,” said Tigris as he made to move.

  “No way, why should we trust you? You’ve already changed sides, why won’t you do it again?”

  “Changed sides? I never changed, some of us had to do this to maintain our cover until somebody like you guys came along. Look, you can fly right? And handle a gun? We can’t get off this rock without you. Hell, I doubt we’d even be able to breach the security station,” he said with an almost pleading expression.

  “What about the rest of the prisoners? We can’t leave them all behind.”

  “We won’t, but first we have to get to the security room. It’s been tried twice before and both times the time sealed locks on the doors opened thirty minutes after an emergency had been declared.”

  “An emergency?” laughed Marcus.

  “Yeah, I think this probably counts!” added Spartan who was double-checking the magazines he’d taken from the bodies. “I take it when the doors open we’ll have everybody here?”

  “Yep, and when they get in they won’t just punish us, it will be the end for everybody in the cells. They have itchy trigger fingers and aren’t afraid to use them. Last time this happened they murdered nearly a thousand people. Most of them forced out on the surface.”