“The Captain would not say.”
“What?” snapped Spartan.
He walked over to the communications intercom on the nearest bulkhead.
“Lieutenant Spartan, I need a priority secure connection to the Captain of the Oceania.”
“Yes, Sir, one moment,” came the reply.
Spartan turned back to Gun.
“I’m sorry about this, Gun. I don’t believe for a minute the Jötnar caused this trouble. I’ll find out who did though.”
Gun nodded, again staying silent.
“Lieutenant. The Captain is refusing to speak to anybody until an investigation team led by a Captain Hobbs from the Santa Cruz arrives on the next transport break. That is due to occur in the next two hours. His XO has confirmed that the Jötnar are being held in the brig prior to them being disciplined.”
Spartan’s face was becoming more and more strained. Gun had seen him like this before and knew exactly what he was going to do. He stepped closer, but Spartan spoke before he could reach him.
“In that case, Commander Gun and myself need an urgent connection to Captain Schaffer on the Santa Cruz. Priority one.”
“Yes, Sir.”
* * *
Spartan was off the shuttle first, but Gun wasn’t far behind. They stepped into the loading bay to find a dozen officers making their way from another shuttle. Spartan spotted Captain Hobbs in the middle of the group.
“Captain!” he shouted.
She must have heard him, but she chose to ignore Spartan and continued on to the security desk. A marine guard waved them on before Spartan could push past the throng of marines and crewmen in the area. He finally reached the desk only to be stopped by the guard.
“Lieutenant Spartan? I have a message from a Sergeant Marcus Keller. He asked for you to meet him urgently in his quarters.”
“What? I have important business to attend to. It can wait.”
“Sir, the message includes a privately encoded video attachment. I’ll send it to your datapad.”
Spartan looked back to Gun and his own marines he had brought with him from the Yorkdale. They were technically there to provide security, but in reality, Spartan had brought them along in case things turned nasty. He had a bad feeling in his gut that something sinister was going on. An alert on his datapad indicated the arrival of the secure packet.
“There, you are free to move about the ship now.”
“Good. Gun, let’s go.”
The group moved past the desk and chased after Captain Hobbs and her entourage. He glanced at the video message and stopped in his tracks when he saw the bloodied face of Bishop. He lifted it closer and activated the sound, though keeping it as quiet as possible.
“Spartan. I need to speak with you urgently. Do not meet anybody from the investigation team until we have spoken. I have attached the co-ordinates to a safe place. Don’t waste time. Hundreds of lives are at stake.”
The message paused and, to Spartan’s surprise, started to decode in front of his eyes. One-use messages were rare in the military as they were obsessed with record keeping. All that remained were the co-ordinates. He looked over to Gun.
“Come with me, we have somewhere else we need to be.”
Gun tilted his head, confused but also slightly used to this kind of request from Spartan. He looked at him for another moment, but Spartan’s expression made it quite clear he needed to go with him. Spartan turned to the Sergeant that had come with him.
“Take the rest of the men to meet with the Chief. I understand there is some equipment he has stored for us.”
“We’re not coming with you, Sir?”
“Not yet. Just make sure your squad is ready, just in case.”
The Sergeant saluted and returned to the small unit of men. Gun tapped Spartan on the shoulder.
“Spartan, let’s go.”
The two moved off along the corridor while Spartan checked the ship’s schematic on his datapad.
“You have a new destination?” asked Gun.
“You could say that. If this message is correct, we might be in the middle of something pretty dangerous.”
Gun laughed.
“What changes?”
Spartan shook his head, and did his best to smile. The route was a winding one and quickly took them away from the main galley areas and into the service corridors. Unlike the rest of the Oceania, these parts of the ship were narrow and crude in construction. It was immediately obvious that the luxurious quality of the vessel was nothing but a facade. The guts of the ship were no better than a normal transport, possibly worse. At one point, they ran into a group of technical crew who scrambled out of the way of the monstrous Gun, who did little to calm their worries.
“Ease back a bit Gun, you’re not trying to intimidate them all, are you?”
Gun grinned.
Spartan stopped and rechecked his datapad. He looked to his right and reached out.
“According to the schematic, this is below the primary intercooler. This is where Marcus is going to meet us.”
As he fiddled about in the dark, he managed to locate a handle and pulled on it. The door opened inwards to reveal a large, darkly lit storeroom. There were shelves and equipment, all strapped down to prevent movement.
“Over here,” said a quiet voice, almost a whisper.
Spartan moved slowly inside and Gun followed behind him.
“Just the two of you?” asked the voice.
Spartan was starting to feel uncomfortable. He reached down to his handgun in its holster. The door slammed shut behind them and the room changed to pitch darkness.
“Gun! Watch...” he started to shout but something struck him on the head. He tried to grab at his unseen assailant but was already falling to the floor. The last thing he saw was a dull yellow glow from a lamp or torch.
* * *
Spartan’s eyesight was starting to return. The dull glow of the room began to change until he could make our white and grey shapes. Something moved towards him, and then he felt a cold trickle down his back. He shuddered as the cold water ran down his body.
“You bastards!”
The darker shapes started to coalesce into the form of a number of people. One became much larger until a loud voice boomed at him.
“Spartan. Nobody will find you here,” said a familiar voice.
“Marcus?” he asked.
A number of people spoke quietly in the background.
“Yeah, it’s me.”
“Why are you doing this? Gun? Gun!” he shouted.
“Shout all you like, Spartan. Nobody can hear you down here,” replied a female voice.
“Spartan. I warned you long ago that you would pay for screwing about with me. We don’t need your half-breed monsters fighting with us. Today we will finally cut them off, all of them.”
“Hobbs, you bitch! What have you done?”
His vision was now much clearer, and he could make out the detail of the room. It was a luggage storage area. They had probably chosen it as it was only going to be accessed during departures and arrivals of passengers. Captain Hobbs, his nemesis, stood to his side. Marcus and two other marines stood close by. In the background stood a short woman. She leaned against the bulkhead with an almost bored expression on her face.
“Misaki!” he hissed.
“Hello, lover.”
“She told me all about it, Spartan,” explained Marcus.
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Your plans with the Biomechs. Your plan on pushing the General to use them, instead of the Army or Marines. I know you think you’re helping, but you must know they can’t be trusted. Look what happened here.”
Spartan shook his head.
“Bullshit. What happened here?”
“The Biomechs. They turned on our marines.”
Spartan looked directly at Marcus, shaking his head in disbelief that his old friend could fall for such an outrageous story.
“Did yo
u see this with your own eyes?”
Marcus stepped back and looked towards Captain Hobbs.
“You’re different, Spartan. Since Euryale, you’ve changed. You chose the Biomechs over your own unit and forced us to be disbanded. What is the next step?”
“You fool, Marcus. Let me guess, Misaki told you this! Where is Bishop?”
“Bishop? Haven’t you heard?”
“Maybe you would like to enlighten me?”
Captain Hobbs nodded in satisfaction.
“Nicely played, Lieutenant, as though you don’t know what your own operatives are up to on this ship,” she said with relish.
“What?” Spartan muttered. From the look on her face, she was enjoying every minute of this discussion. Spartan looked about the room, but there appeared to be nobody of a higher rank or of greater importance than her. It was clear she was pulling the strings in this situation.
“Sergeant Bishop was the marine killed by the Biomechs. When I arrived at the scene, a security unit was already there and had disarmed the Jötnar.”
“A security team disabled a group of Jötnar? How many were there?”
Marcus was looking a little less secure and glanced back at Misaki who raised her eyebrow in dismay.
“Ah, I see. Let me guess, she’s been paying you late night visits for the last couple of weeks.”
“Spartan, just because you couldn’t have me!” she snapped.
Marcus leaned in towards Spartan.
“They are going to be court-martialled for Bishop’s murder. You must be able to see they can’t be trusted. If they could turn on Bishop, then what about us?”
Captain Hobbs stepped up so that she and Marcus stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder. Marcus looked at her but seemed uncomfortable, as though he had been forced to stand there.
“And when this happens you will get my personal guarantee that those responsible will be executed as accorded by Confederate Military law.”
The door opened and in walked four heavily armed marines, each struggling to drag in the docile and almost unconscious Gun. His armour and weapons had been stripped away, and there were cuts and marks all over his arms and chest.
“As for the rest of them, including him, I have evidence of a plot by you and the Biomechs on the Yorkdale to turn on us upon reaching the Anomaly. I am on my way to present this critical information to the Captain before I speak to the senior officers in this fleet. Watch him and take no chances. If my data is correct, Lieutenant Spartan would choose his Biomech friends over us every time.”
“You lying bitch!” snapped Spartan.
She slapped her hand hard against Spartan’s cheek. It caused no real harm, but Spartan could easily see the joy she took from it.
“Now, you can save him and the others if you co-operate. You work as a low ranking officer on the ship. Help us, and I will ensure you are reinstated on the Santa Cruz.”
“Come on, Spartan. This is a good chance, a clean break from them. We don’t need them, and what if they do turn on us?” Marcus asked.
“If? So you’re not even convinced they will, and you’re happy to go ahead with this?”
Marcus again looked over to Misaki.
“Man, she must be something in the sack, Marcus.”
The tall marine turned back, an angry and almost disappointed look on his face. He lifted his hand and brought it down on Spartan’s jaw. The shock almost knocked him out again, but Spartan wasn’t an easy man to knock out. His vision blurred but quickly returned.
“You pissed with me, Marcus? Or you pissed at what you’ve done? You know Hobbs won’t rest until every single Jötnar is dead or in chains. You know what she sounds like?”
“Enough!” shouted Captain Hobbs.
“Sergeant, you stay here. I need to meet with the Captain about this business. I will leave you with a squad of my marines. Make sure nobody leaves this room. Understood?”
Marcus first looked at Spartan, his face still contorted with rage. He looked over to the Captain who was already at the door.
“They’ll be here when you get back.”
“Good work, Sergeant. It looks like I’ve found somebody that actually deserves a commission in the Marine Corps. I will return within the hour.”
She marched from the room, to be replaced by a small group of armoured marines. Misaki wandered over and stood next to Marcus. She started whispering in her ear. He lifted her hand and stopped her short.
“Spartan and I have things to discuss.”
Misaki looked back at him, but he avoided her glare.
“She’s trouble, trust me,” said Spartan with a grin.
* * *
Captain Hobbs arrived at the brig to find a number of other marines as well as the Captain of the ship. It was deep inside the crew section and nowhere near the areas that might be accessed by the passengers. As she approached them, she could make out the shape of the bars on the room where the prisoners were being held. The Captain blocked her route with a look of suspicion about his face.
“Captain Hobbs. I take it you are the Confederate military representative that will be dealing with this matter?”
“That is correct. I have been authorised by Captain Schaffer, the temporary commander of this flotilla, to get to the bottom of this matter.”
Her small group of six marines stood behind her. There were two armed marines outside the door to the brig and another crewmember who was working on the computer system. The Captain turned to one of his marines who passed him a secure datapad of the type usually used for couriers.
“My security details were able to recover data from one of the surviving camera units in the area where the Sergeant was killed.”
“Murdered you mean?” she replied.
“Well, I think you might want to look for yourself.”
Captain Hobbs looked suspiciously at the datapad and then to the civilian Captain.
“I understood that internal security units were to be disabled for operational reasons?”
“Yes, that is true. This area of the ship is on a closed loop though, so somebody must have overlooked it.”
One of the Captain’s marines gave her a concerned look and he instantly spotted it.
“What?” he asked.
With speed and precision, Captain Hobbs pulled her sidearm from her holster, lifted the weapon and fired a single shot into the man’s head. The back of his head exploded with a sickening blast that sprayed blood over the wall. The rest of her marines drew their own sidearms and blasted the two guards and the civilian crewman. With four bodies on the ground she moved along them, one at a time and lifted them up. Captain Hobbs fired multiple shots into each of them before letting them fall.
“What about them?” asked the one of the marines guards, he was pointing to the almost unconscious Jötnar in their cells.
“Stick to the plan. Blast open the doors and kill them with the guards’ own weapons. Oh, and don’t forget to leave out sidearms with the Jötnar. We wouldn’t want them thought of as victims in this.”
“Yes, Sir,” he replied and moved off to the side of the metal bars. Another of the marines removed a set of small charges from a satchel and proceeded to place them on the frame.
As they continued their work, she pulled out her own communication device. It was similar to the military datapads but had an archaic, almost antiquated look to it. She tapped a button on the side and a video screen popped up showing a dark shape of a man. She moved to a dark corner in the corridor where the marines couldn’t easily see or hear her.
“Lord Typhon,” she said quietly, “We have been successful. The Captain is dead, as are his guards. I will deal with the Biomechs shortly. Everything is proceeding exactly as planned. Soon the fleet will be at war with their new allies, in time for our strike.”
There was a pause of almost ten seconds before the man spoke.
“Good work, your comrades will be proud of the work you have done today. We will be reunited shortly.”
/> “What about your brothers, my Lord?”
Again she waited and watched the marines putting the finishing touches to the charges. The devices weren’t particularly large, but their placement was critical in allowing the prisoners to potentially escape without harming them. It was of course all for show, and therefore had to be perfect.
“Do not concern yourself, my child. My brothers are poised for the final blow. As we fight these last battles, they are already gathering for the beginning of our retribution. We are just days from final victory. Ensure our allies in the fleet are ready, judgment day for the Confederacy is coming and your loyalty will soon be rewarded.”
“My Lord,” she replied and lowered her head reverently. The image turned dark and she dropped the unit back to its position on her side.
“Fire in the hole!” cried the marine near the cell.
Captain Hobbs stepped back and covered her ears. The blast was much less than she expected, but the shockwave it sent back in the confined space did throw a small amount of dirt and rubble about. As the dust cleared, she could see the small group of Jötnar. Two of them were trying to get up, and a third was moving his leg but was unable to get any further. She pointed at one of the carbines that had been held by the guards.
“Pass it to me,” she ordered.
One of her marines bent down and handed the weapon to her. With a quick glance at the magazine, she stepped to the barred entrance and took aim at the creatures. One, a heavily scarred warrior looked at her. Perhaps he recognized her, but there was something in his eye that she couldn’t quite understand. She took aim and then fired. It took a dozen rounds to kill the first. The others tried desperately to move, but whatever drugs they had been given did their job well. It took a magazine change and repeated shooting until she was satisfied that they were all dead. Captain Hobbs turned around to see her personal guard watching. They were cold, hardened warriors to a man, but even they looked shocked at the carnage.
Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy Page 47
