Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  “We’re clear.”

  The four-man unit resumed their positions and checked for signs of the enemy. The column of dust continued upwards, but nothing remained of the unfortunate crewman that had tried to escape from whatever was taking place at the site. A few of the Zealots seemed to take the escape attempt as an opportunity to attack more of the prisoners, but luckily none were actually hurt in any serious way. Teresa checked the horizon, but it looked as clear as it was ever likely to be.

  “Come on, I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to,” she said.

  The small group moved out from the tree line and down into the remains of whatever had been built in the past. As they moved through the outskirts of the first buildings, it was clear that a number of the structures were actually parts of an old temple. In the centre was a square based pyramid with many steps leading to the top. They weaved around it, continuing onwards to the ruined base of a circular structure. There was nothing but mud and broken rock in the middle, but along the inner wall of the building were the carved shapes of buildings, people and machines.

  “Sergeant, what’s this?” asked Corporal Alessandro.

  She stopped but only for a few seconds.

  “No idea. Record everything you can see and then join us.”

  She continued forward with Corporal Nylund and took up position along the final section of ruins that faced the dome while the other two stayed back to record as much of the markings, images and information as they could in the limited time they had. Once in cover, the Corporal removed a monitoring package from his pack on his back and placed it on the ground. While he configured the unit, Teresa placed dust and small rocks around it to camouflage it from a cursory glance.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  With the end of the War that had torn the old Confederacy apart came a new attitude to the military. Gone were the distinctions between Army, Marines and Navy and instead all were combined into a smaller but more professional elite arm. With this change came a requirement for more flexible ships, ones that could operate fighters and landing craft just as often as they carried marines and their heavy equipment. The old days of ships of the line and separate transports, died with birth of the Alliance.

  Naval Cadet’s Handbook

  The arrival of Sergeant Morato’s ASOG team caught almost every one by surprise. General Rivers had assumed the worst and mobilised everybody available, including the Navy crewmen, to defend the compound against the expected attack. When they had emerged on the river, moving slowly on an improvised raft, they’d almost been shot to ribbons. Only the quick thinking of Captain Carlos had averted possible disaster. Sergeant Morato walked into the camp with the seven troopers to cheers from those inside. General Rivers was already out of his shelter and waiting near the marine fireteam as she moved inside.

  “Sergeant, I see the rumours of your demise were much exaggerated.”

  Teresa saluted, though it was slower and more ragged than usual.

  “Sir, it’s good to be back.”

  “We were expecting contact from your team nearly two days ago. Can I assume you found something?”

  Teresa grinned through the open visor of her helmet. Her armour was filthy and not one part of it seemed to be the same colour. Mud slid down her legs, and thick scratches ran from her ankles to her armpits. The others looked no better. It was as if they had been dredging the river for the last week.

  “You could say that, General.”

  She turned to her unit and nodded to Corporal Nylund.

  “Get the recording gear into the field command post.” She looked back to General Rivers. “This is pretty big, Sir. I think you’ll want all the officers to see this.”

  “Is it something we can use?” he asked optimistically.

  “It’s more than that, Sir. I think it might be the key to this planet and possibly the entire War.”

  At that last point his eyebrows lifted in interest.

  * * *

  The first view of Hyperion sent a shudder up Spartan’s spine as he watched from the bridge of ANS Tamarisk. Spartan hadn’t spent much time on the ship before. In fact, the last time he’d seen the craft had been when it was salvaged following the rescue at Prometheus. There were few reminders of that bloody struggle, and to all intents and purposes, she seemed to have been improved in almost every way. The rest of the Taskforce had already made rendezvous with ANS Minotaur and were keeping at least ten hours away from the planet to avoid weapon fire or equipment jamming. Spartan pulled himself away from the bridge and out through to hatch that led to the small CIC. Inside waited the small team he had selected specifically for the mission.

  I hope to God I’ve chosen the right people.

  He’d assembled an odd mixture of forces, including marines, Vanguards, soldiers and Jötnar. From the limited information they had discovered, he knew he had several basic tasks to perform. He had the best marines and scouts in the Taskforce to help locate the enemy dispositions and resources; and a mixture of Vanguards and Jötnar to provide combat muscle. What worried him was that they might simply be unable to disable the weapon systems before they were overwhelmed. It would take up to six hours for the Taskforce to be able to move into position and start landing the rest of the ground troops. He moved into the middle of the CIC and glanced at the status monitors.

  “Captain, all systems are fully operational. Passive jammers are on, and our weapon systems are primed and ready,” said Sergeant Kowalski.

  Spartan looked at the small crew with confidence. Most of them had been at the summit on Terra Nova, but a few he had only met prior to their introductions in the Taskforce. Kowalski was a highly experienced marine and a computer tech expert with a somewhat shady past. As well as having served on Tamarisk at Prometheus, he was also one of the top specialists on the Prometheus colony under Commander Anderson. Sat next to him, and monitoring the remote feeds, was the gruff Agent Johnson from the Kerberos Intelligence Unit. His experience had been in working with the Kerberos Underground during the War. Spartan knew his knowledge and experience of fighting unconventional operations would be critical in the fight. His only real experience with most of this team was with the Jötnar and a handful of the Vanguards. Khan watched over them both with a look of bemused interest and boredom. It was an odd mix, but Spartan was very familiar with the attitudes of his Jötnar friends.

  “How is the assault team?” he asked.

  Khan nodded slowly.

  “Not bad. Could do with a few more, twenty-four isn’t much for a ground assault.”

  “We don’t need to win this thing. We just need to disable their systems, so we can bring in the large ships to coordinate a full-scale operation.”

  Khan tilted his head slightly.

  “Perhaps, but we don’t have much to go on yet, do we?”

  Spartan couldn’t disagree with that. All they knew was that ships had been crippled or destroyed, and that large numbers of pods and lifeboats had made their way to the surface. Deep down, Spartan worried that the entire planet could be teeming with Union soldiers or Biomechs. What if it was another of the horrific plants like the one he had seen on Prometheus?

  “Uh, you’re gonna want to see this,” said Kowalski in a tone that bordered on excitement.

  Spartan leaned in to look at his screen. It showed a topographical map of the surface. Most of the land mass was rocky, and there were several mountain ranges. The quality of the imagery was poor, probably due to the thick atmosphere and frequent mist at low level. The most obvious thing was the amount of trees. The bulk of the planet looked like a giant forest.

  “I don’t see it, just lots of trees, so?”

  Kowalski pointed to three points on the display.

  “There, three,” he explained to Spartan, but the icons and data told him nothing of much use.

  Kowalski shook his head, once more annoyed that he was going to have to explain the obvious. It was both a gift and a curse that he was forced to endure. At least that
was how he rationalised it to himself.

  “Well, it seems that so far we have approached without being detected. Our passive system gives off little to no detectable signature, and our radar systems are off. Unless they happen to be looking right here, they will not find us.”

  Spartan nodded but still looked confused.

  “Yes, I read the tech notes on her. An impressive ship, no doubt.”

  He then pointed to the screen.

  “But what about those points?” he added.

  “Oh...right,” replied Kowalski sheepishly. “Well, first of all, I am picking up massive, and I mean massive, energy levels in this mountainous region. The really weird thing is that the power build-up matches the exact same signature of the Anomaly.”

  Spartan leaned back at the news.

  “What does that mean?”

  Kowalski shook his head.

  “Uh...no idea, but it is interesting. The other thing is these points.”

  He tapped three more locations; one of which was quite close to the mountainous region.

  “Each of these areas is transmitting a very weak Alliance distress pulse. They are coded to the new frequencies and are shifting based on the new algorithms. I suspect that’s the only reason they haven’t been detected yet.

  “Alliance? From the lifeboats?”

  Kowalski nodded.

  “Yes, Sir. Even more interesting though, is the site closest to the mountains. It has the strongest signal and is positioned near this river. I can’t look any closer. We’d need satellite coverage at lower altitude and with advanced optics. The mists and weather conditions down there are cutting visibility down to just a few kilometres.”

  “Okay, so we have a few lifeboats. What’s so special about that one?” asked Spartan, still no closer to understanding the point Kowalski was trying to make.

  At that last comment, Kowalski grinned so widely his teeth almost seemed to gleam at him.

  “It’s a full tactical assessment of the area, along with identity codes for a number of NCOs and officers. Looks like the General is there with Captain Carlos, and at least a dozen more people of note.”

  Spartan was about to speak, but Kowalski knew exactly what he was going to say.

  “Yes, one of those on the list is Sergeant Morato.”

  The mention of her name gave him renewed hope. Although the senior officers kept trying to tell him how likely it was that they would have survived, he knew from experience that ships attacked or destroyed in orbit had a poor chance at performing a full evacuation before breaking up. The mere possibility that Teresa was there sent a jolt through his body. Nothing could have motivated him more.

  “Can you get a signal down there?” he asked.

  Kowalski shook his head.

  “No way, Sir. The minute we send any kind of signal, they will know we’re here. All we have is the element of surprise.”

  Captain William Lockley pulled himself into the CIC from the bridge. He had been monitoring the feeds and was already up to speed on the situation. A short, slightly overweight man, he had been responsible for defending one of the landing zones on Euryale. His combat experience, both on the ground and in space, was unmatched in the fleet.

  “We can’t stay here long, Spartan. We have a big enough window to launch all three shuttles in one go. As soon as you’re out of the ship, I will withdraw to the minimum safe distance and await your go transmission.”

  Kowalski looked up at him.

  “We can spread the shuttles out or land in one place, Sir.”

  Spartan looked at the displays and the proposed landing sites. It seemed pretty straightforward to him. Either they landed at one of the crash sites and linked up with any survivors, or they moved directly to the source of the massive power levels. In either case, he had no idea what to expect. He was tempted to strike the power source, but his experienced strategic side begged him to not throw away their one chance on such a gamble. He took a quick breath and pointed at the landing site.

  “Put us there. We need numbers and intel on the possible enemy site. If the General is down there, I can promise you he is probably already halfway through retaking that place.”

  “Understood, Captain Spartan. How long until you are ready to leave?”

  Spartan looked to the others in the narrow CIC and grinned at them.

  “Ten minutes. Just let me get to the shuttles.”

  With that, he was already pulling himself along to the grab rails and to the hangar part of the ship. Agent Johnson, Sergeant Kowalski and Captain Lockley returned to their stations and started the release procedures required to launch the shuttles. Spartan made quick progress and was at the first airlock before he activated his intercom.

  “Khan, load them up, we are leaving.”

  “Yes!” roared the Jötnar with approval.

  Even Spartan was unable to hide a smile at the Jötnar’s evident excitement. He closed the airlock behind him and continued to move through the gravity-free part of the ship.

  One way or another, we finish this, today.

  * * *

  General Rivers was as speechless as the rest of the officers as they watched the video feeds recorded by Sergeant Morato and her ASOG troop. The quality of the footage was shaky, but the site of the massive structures, machines, workers and the great glowing orb left little to the imagination. The General examined the information in detail before turning to Teresa.

  “What the hell is this place?”

  Corporal Dalton Nylund, the ASOG’s technician lifted his hand and stepped forward. He handed over a heavily modified datapad to him.

  “This might help. We found engravings at what looked like a ruined temple of some kind. We didn’t have time to examine it, but we did photograph as much as possible. Our equipment estimated most of the ruins are up to two-hundred years old.”

  General Rivers examined the first few images before waving over Captain Carlos and two of the Navy officers. The first images showed what looked like an orb, very similar to the one under the dome. This one was in space and surrounded by gantries and structures.

  “Looks like the Spacebridge at the Anomaly,” one of them said.

  “Yes, but look at the sequence. The first one shows this machine with people stood around it. The next is showing more of those dome buildings being constructed. Is this showing what happened in the past?” asked Captain Carlos.

  Teresa shook her head as she relooked at the images.

  “I don’t know, but the shape of the site is very odd with the mountains and the dome in the centre.”

  An engineer from the Santa Maria examined the imagery and scratched his chin.

  “I’ll tell you one thing. That isn’t a mountain range. It’s one mountain that’s had the centre excavated. That’s why it looks more like a crater surrounded by mountains.”

  General Rivers nodded in agreement.

  “Yes, makes sense. So if that’s right, then this orb must have been buried. They must be here to unearth it for some reason.”

  “Maybe,” replied Captain Carlos, but he didn’t sound convinced. ”We’ve only had colonies in this region of space for just over three centuries. Why haven’t we come across anything like this before? It also doesn’t explain what the Biomechs or the Zealots or doing down here.”

  “General, there is more,” explained Teresa.

  She pressed a button on the video unit they were using, and it flicked instantly to a live feed of the dome at the heart of the enemy base. Unexpectedly, it was still glowing, and flashes of what looked like electricity crackled around it. Hundreds of people hid and cowered around the place as the flashes continued. The room fell silent as those present looked on in surprise. General Rivers spoke quietly but continued watching the feed.

  “Good work, Sergeant, this is exactly what we need. Do you have any idea what this thing is designed for, though?”

  “No, Sir. We discussed it on the return here. Our thoughts are it could be anything from a mass
ive signal generator to some kind of artificial intelligence hub.”

  “Like the one on Terra Nova?” he asked rhetorically.

  “Maybe,” Teresa replied. “But one thing I do know, I’ve never seen machines like that before, apart from those that came aboard the Santa Maria. They seem unique to this planet.”

  She pointed to the dome.

  “My gut instinct tells me this area, the machines, the Zealots and the Biomechs are all linked. Maybe the survivors from the Great War five decades ago hid down here and found the site?”

  General Rivers seemed intrigued at the idea.

  “Interesting. The Zealots have always been the right hand of somebody else. We thought it was Typhon and his brothers, but to do the things they’ve done they must have had help.”

  He turned and looked to the other officers assembled in the cramped room.

  “This changes things considerably. Not only is it our duty to fight and survive, but we also need to understand what is happening here. Our mission must change to the capture and study of this site, no matter the cost. I want anybody with historical, engineering and scientific knowledge to go over the data recovered by Sergeant Morato’s team, and see what you can piece together. In the meantime, the rest of us need to find a way to get a signal away from this planet. We need help, now more than ever.”

  There was no more time for discussion as the compound’s klaxons blared. It was loud and painful to hear, filling each of them with dread. They had been installed for emergency use only, as the noise was bound to draw the unwelcome attention of the hostile inhabitants of the jungle. The makeshift command centre emptied quickly as they all rushed to their allotted positions. As some of the crew, left General Rivers grabbed two of them.

  “No, you both stay. I need answers from this information, and fast.”

  He then took one last glance at the feed and moved to Teresa who was already at the doorway and checking her weapon.