Fires of Prometheus

by Michael G. Thomas

  “Okay, this looks safe to me. Establish a comms link with this character and set our transmission to audio only, no reason to give him a free look at us.”

  “On it, Sir.”

  “This is Tamarisk, we weren’t expecting any assistance,” said Commander Anderson.

  There was a short pause as they sat waiting before the man in the video appeared to nod and then started to speak.

  “I was contacted recently by a mutual friend. She said you might need assistance of the physical kind upon getting here. I’ve taken the liberty of assembling a team of locals. The price wasn’t cheap but the bill has been covered by Ganymede.”

  The Commander hit the mute button and turned to Kowalski and Teresa.

  “He said she, it could be the Admiral.”

  “Makes sense, she’s the only senior commander with full knowledge of our mission and she knows we are due to arrive soon. Can we trust them?” asked Teresa.

  The Commander shrugged and turned back, releasing the mute key.

  “We are due to land within the hour at Docking Bay 14, we’ll meet you there,” said Anderson immediately cutting off the sound. They sat and waited before a final message came back.

  “Understood, Tamarisk, safe journey, we will see you shortly, out.”

  The video cut to black and was quickly followed by a connection terminated message.

  “Do we need their help, Sir?”

  “No idea, Teresa, but if we need to break into a prison facility or ship we’ll need every hand and weapon we can find. If it was indeed the Admiral then she will have arranged the best she can find at such short notice.”

  “Who are they anyway?” asked Kowalski who turned away from the computer for the first time in the last hour.

  “The Confederacy has Black Ops units throughout the sector. Some gather intelligence, others are sleepers who wait for orders as and when they are needed. My guess is this Angelo is part of an Intel team out here. Lots of information, goods and money pass through this area all the time. As for the people he has assembled, well, they will almost certainly be local mercs.”

  Kowalski scratched his neck and appeared lost in thought before speaking again. “Mercs, out here? I thought the Confederacy stopped using hired guns decades ago.”

  “Officially we stopped the mercenary units being used in the Army. After all, why pay for mercs when you can get professionals for less money and without the loyalty issues. They do have their place though, especially when you need a proxy.”

  “Proxy? What do you mean?”

  “He means, Teresa, you pay somebody else to do your dirty work. It costs a bit more but if it goes wrong you don’t take the heat,” replied Kowalski.

  “Yeah, something like that. Okay, this is going to be interesting. I want all of you to re-read the files on the station and on our contact. We will be there in fifty minutes and I don’t want to be caught with my trousers down. Don’t forget, we are black market traders looking to buy weapons and armour for insurgents. Keep quiet, be discreet and for God’s sake don’t call me Commander. Understood?”

  Teresa and Kowalski both nodded, Bishop shouted back down through the ship to acknowledge the plan.

  * * *

  The series of vertical display units showed feeds from more than twenty locations in the facility. On three of the screens were scores of guards, each collecting equipment from the barracks and assembling at two open areas near the building. One display showed a massive computer centre that must have been at least a hundred square metres, packed with large metal units and cooling systems. The other displays showed hundreds of prisoners rushing from their cells. Some were overpowering their guards, others grabbing captured equipment, many more simply cowered or hid as they waited for whatever unfortunate event was about to unfold.

  “We’re going to have to get this thing organised. Once the guards enter the main areas they will have co-ordination and firepower on their side.”

  “The prisoners won’t stand a chance, Tigris. We need to even the odds somehow. What exactly do we have access to here?” asked Spartan.

  “Well, when the ships arrived they were able to connect to and access the mainframe, wherever the hell it is. They shut off access to the management and computers systems as well as the communications gear. We’ve still got control over the security systems, ventilation and cells, that’s it though. We can’t do anything to the harvesting areas, shipyards or anything outside the compound.”

  “What the hell?” Marcus paced back and forth like a caged animal, muttering to himself.

  “This isn’t good. So all we can do is release the prisoners and give them access to most of the base. Is there nothing else we can do from here? What about the Biomechs? Can you change their programming, maybe get them to help in the fight?” asked a despondent Spartan.

  “No, not from here, that has to be done at the actual location where the Biomechs are being made. Also, it doesn’t take minutes. The changed programming could take days to kick in for the newest models and the older ones will take even longer. We don’t have the time right now, why change them if we’ll be dead within the hour?” answered Tigris as he turned back to the displays that were still functional, for signs of anything that could help them.

  “What do you know about this computer area here?”

  “No idea, Spartan, I’ve not seen it before. It must be important though, look at the cabling on the base layout and the power management. Holy crap, it is big!” said Tigris as he scrolled through several diagrams.

  “Hey, I recognise that layout.” Misaki stepped closer. She examined the details and then checked two of the displays where the metal housings hid the cables from the computer area. She started to nod the more she looked.

  “Well, what is it?” asked Marcus.

  “When we arrived I noticed a large communications tower. It was the only substantial structure in this entire area on the surface. Those containers and housings run from the tower down to the computer centre. If you look here you can see smaller communication connections moving out to the factories, harvesting areas and shipyards.”

  “So you’re saying this computer system is networked throughout the compound, so what?”

  “No, that’s not what she’s saying, Marcus,” said Tigris, who looked as though he had already worked it all out. He pressed a few buttons and brought up the network details for the entire system. “The bulk of the data and computer power is being moved between this centre and the communication tower. If you ask me this entire facility is being controlled or managed from elsewhere.”

  “What about the Governor then?”

  “He’s a brute and a bully, Marcus, but he doesn’t look like the kind of man who could manage and operate a complex facility like this. Tigris, if you’re right then somewhere in this sector is a base or hub that controls it,” Spartan added as he stood at the sector map that showed the planets, stations and steroid belts that littered the Proxima Sector.

  “Not just this place, Spartan, it could control many more, possibly dozens of them through Proxima Centauri,” Tigris said as he traced his fingers across a number of the planets.

  “You know what you’re saying, Tigris? The Zealots and their partners could just be the tip of the iceberg with this thing. They could have thousands more Biomechs, maybe even ships being hidden away, ready for the moment to strike.”

  Spartan thought for a moment and continued, “This is all speculation but if, and this is a big if, this station is one of many and it is being controlled from elsewhere then we have a duty to get the information out of here. Even if we don’t get off this rock, people will have to know.”

  “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Marcus asked.

  Misaki raised her eyebrows, desperately wanting to know what they were talking about.

  “We need to control that communications tower so we can get a signal out to warn the Admiral and anybody else who is listening. There is a sickness down here, something
dark and dangerous and I think Confed are going to want to hear about it.”

  “I’ve got an even better idea,” said Tigris. He pressed three buttons and brought up the images of the prisoners in one of the sectors where they were engaged in bloody fighting with a small number of guards. “What do you think the public would think if we could show them pictures of this? Video footage of the prisoners, the guards, the labs and the Biomechs being built here from the flesh and blood of our own people.”

  Spartan nodded with a wry grin. “Tigris, now you’re thinking like an officer. Turn the population against their masters.”

  “Okay then, what do we need to do?” Marcus asked.

  “Tigris, somehow I don’t think they are just going to let us walk into that place and start using their system. Also, when they realise what we’re doing won’t they just destroy the communications gear?”

  “Time isn’t so much the problem, Spartan. As long as we can get a data packet out of this area I can lock onto any repeater stations in orbit around the planet. If we can transmit a general distress for up to a minute it will propagate throughout the network on the public channels.”

  “Are you sure, Tigris?” asked Misaki.

  “What’s the point of a clear, unencrypted data channel if you can’t transmit to it in an emergency? That’s why we have it! But we need to hit the computer centre and fast, before they get there first.”

  Tigris brought up the map to the compound centred on their position in the security room. The site had the look of a spider with them positioned halfway along on the left. Four of the legs were fitted out with harvesting rooms, prison cells and at the tip were the shipyards. Another four arms were in various states of completion. Tigris traced his hand from the tip of their leg on the base.

  “So this is where we all arrived. Each end of the leg section leads to the surface where the loading bays, platforms and hangars. As you move in you come to the prison cells and the barracks. Now there is one barrack building per leg. We’ve been fighting one of them so far. If you move further along the leg it gets wider till you reach the centre.”

  “What’s in the middle?” asked Spartan.

  “The harvesting areas and shipyards are based around the wide sections of each leg where it joins the central hub. The main office for the Governor is here, at the end of our leg.”

  “Why isn’t he in the middle?”

  “I don’t know, good question, Marcus. I’ve only seen a small part of this myself. I might have been a guard but they never trusted us with more than one sector.”

  Misaki moved the map to get a closer look at the central hub. She zoomed in to examine the shafts, corridors and rooms. “Okay, it looks like the computer centre is right in the middle, further below the surface than any other part of the base. Why? Don’t computers usually go further away from heat?”

  “Could be using the thermal energy to power the place. Also, don’t forget if this place is as heavily protected and controlled from elsewhere you’re going to want the computer gear as far away from the surface and interruption as possible,” said Spartan. Misaki looked back to the map and continued.

  “If you move up you’ll come to the large barracks structure. Above that, right on the surface is a massive open area with access doors leading to the surface.”

  Tigris leaned in and quickly spotted the obvious.

  “They are for launching ships when they are completed in the shipyards I would think. Look, the route from the yards is short and direct, right to the surface.”

  “The route from here to the computer centre leads right past more prison blocks, then the barracks before we get to the security gate here. We’d have to reach it, defeat or bypass the guards and then smash the gate to reach the elevators to the centre,” said Spartan, partly to himself and also to the group.

  “No, the elevators are out as long as the security system is down. It’s all part of the system.”

  A loud thumping sound came from the corridor and they all turned as the Biomech lumbered inside. The creature looked bored, it had been stood in the corridor for some time now as they went over what to do. It glanced at each of them and then at the screen before turning to Spartan.

  “Well?”

  “We’re going to show everyone what is happening down here. When we’ve done that we’re freeing your friends from these bastards!” said Spartan firmly.

  “Good!” growled the creature with a satisfied expression on its face.

  “What’s your name?” asked Misaki.

  “Name? We have no names,” it replied in a monotone voice.

  Spartan moved up to him and looked carefully at the creature’s face. “Yeah, he has a name, look at him. He’s a crazy bastard, just like me!”

  “Well?” asked Misaki impatiently. Spartan turned back to look at her.

  “Gun.”

  Marcus shook his head at the idea.

  “Gun?” asked the creature before looking back to Spartan. It lifted its arm to show him the Gatling gun.

  “Yes, Gun!” he growled with obvious pleasure.

  * * *

  The Tamarisk sat on the landing pad, its legs extended to support the vast bulk of the vessel. Most stations would be unable to house such a craft but this Prometheus Trading Station was one of the largest manmade structures in the entire Confederacy. At the bottom of the ramp Commander Anderson, Bishop and Teresa stood waiting. Kowalski stayed behind on the ship in case of trouble and to man the ship’s weapons in case they needed to make a hasty retreat.

  “Where are they? We’re in the right place?” asked Teresa.

  Bishop checked his datapad confirming the landing spot was to be Bay 14. He looked up and spotted the peeling red paint up on the wall. “Look, like I said, 14, we’re in the right place.”

  Almost on cue the circular door leading away from the landing platform hissed open to reveal two men, one in a scruffy leather jacket and a pair of faded combat fatigues, the other in a cheap suit. Both walked up to them and stopped three metres away. The man in the leather jacket moved ahead slightly.

  “I’m Angelo, this is my associate Mr Jones who resides on this station.”

  “I’m Ter...” started Teresa before the man raised his hand and cut her off.

  “Please, no names here. I know who you are and you know more than enough about me already. If you’re ready I have somewhere a little more private where you can meet the rest of the group and let me know about the plan. Are you ready?”

  Commander Anderson nodded. “We’re ready.”

  “Good. Let’s go,” said Angelo who then turned and walked back through the doorway, closely followed by the man in the suit. Commander Anderson moved up behind with the other two following. Bishop tapped him gently on the shoulder as they were leaving.

  “The plan?” he asked quietly.

  “Yeah, we’ll think about that when we have information from Hex. Just play along.” Bishop turned to Teresa who was leaning in to listen.

  “It just keeps getting better and better doesn’t it?” he said with a grin.

  “Great,” replied Teresa as she slid her hand away from the concealed pistol tucked inside her jacket.

  They went though the doorway and into a small arrivals lounge. It was obviously well used by traders and travellers rather than tourists or more important personnel. The walls were worn, the interior was shabby and grimy. As they carried on Angelo turned his head to speak to them.

  “It doesn’t look much but this is the quietest part of the station. There are more salubrious places of course,” he explained and gestured off to a set of airlock doors to the right. “You first.”

  Teresa and Bishop walked up to the door as it opened automatically. They felt a subtle but noticeable difference in air pressure and temperature. Inside was a circular room with a high ceiling and many reflective surfaces. In the middle was a water feature that babbled away into a small recessed pond. Teresa went through the door and stayed close to the wall. As she m
oved slowly along the perimeter Bishop came in and did the same on the other side. Angelo nodded and indicated for Commander Anderson to enter. He paused for a moment before stepping through the entrance, the rest followed closely behind.

  “Interesting place you have here,” said Anderson as the door slid behind them. As it shut the room must have pressurised as he could feel a slight change in his ears.

  “Just wait a moment,” said Angelo as he stood still.

  A barely audible clunk echoed through the room that was followed by a low level hum.

  “We are clear now, please, have a seat,” he said pointing to the green chairs that were scattered about the place.

  The water in the middle of the room continued to fall and that, along with the odd hum and air pressure, made all three of the crew feel uneasy.

  “It’s no big deal. This is our meeting room, it is ionized and cleansed by our scrubbers, we have sensors throughout and the water helps as an audio screen. It is almost impossible to bug this place,” explained Angelo.

  Commander Anderson sat down and beckoned for Teresa and Bishop to do the same. As they did so Angelo and the man in the suit did as well. With the five of them seated Angelo spoke first.

  “Please, no names, even here. Understood?”

  Anderson and the rest nodded in agreement and it looked like Anderson was going to speak first before Angelo beat him to it.

  “I have been monitoring traffic in this System for the past three weeks and there are a few anomalies that might be of interest you and your business here. Before we start though I assume you are familiar with the situation here?”

  Before anybody could speak the man in the suit explained.

  “You should know that this System is not easy to reach so when people do get here they tend to stay for some time. We have a lot of traffic between the planet, research labs, factories, quarries, stations and the like. So much that we have no adequate way of monitoring what goes on here. On top of this the locals are hostile to any external influences on what they do. There are literally hundreds of organisations and corporations with a vested interest in this System and all of them make use of private security. You can’t even visit a factory or planetary mining facility without a dozen guns pointing at you. I assume you are aware of the high levels of drug trafficking here as well as slavers, prostitution and unregulated fighting?”