“Indeed, the very same. She may have died in the last hours of the War, but her name will live on in the Navy. She won’t be forgotten, Spartan.”
He smiled and started to move away but turned back to him with a thoughtful look on his face.
“Listen, you’ve had plenty of experience on our ships. I’m meeting the planners for a short discussion on the new ships’ ideas tomorrow. Interested in coming along? You’ve defended them and boarded them. Your insight could be useful and might give them ideas their researchers haven’t come up with yet.”
Spartan nodded but then remembered he already had plans for the next day and then even more meetings at the Chamber.
“Sir, I have a prior engagement with the Jötnar and at least three more sessions here, perhaps another time?”
“Jötnar? They’re here?” he asked with a mischievous smile. “I can’t imagine that would make them very popular. Well, the comments of the Jötnar would be equally important. I will be working with the planners and designers for the next two weeks. Pop down when you and your comrades have a moment. If you can persuade them to come along as well, I would appreciate it. Changes are simple at this stage, but give it another six months, and we’ll be stuck to the designs.”
Spartan looked a little confused at all of what the Admiral was telling him.
“Admiral, I don’t understand. How can we plan or design anything when we have no idea of what our future military will even look like?” he said before realising the door was open, and the female senator was stood just two metres away.
“Admiral,” she said politely and looked to Spartan. There were only the three of them present as she continued.
“Lieutenant Spartan, it amuses me that you think this discussion was anything more than a showpiece. The decision was made almost three months ago. This is a mere formality and a face-saving opportunity for those with personal disagreements, mainly in the infantry. The vote in three days will ratify the work that has already started.”
Spartan looked to the Admiral who was unperplexed at her comments. The Senator continued to speak with a serious and direct tone towards Spartan.
“But that isn’t what I wanted to speak to you about.”
She turned to the Admiral who was busy nodding in agreement.
“Yes, I expect little to change from now till the vote,” he said, confirming what the Senator had just said.
“I am heading to the engineering department for the preliminary naval design briefing. If you and your comrades could be there tomorrow to provide additional input, I would appreciate it.”
Spartan saluted to the Admiral who then turned and moved away along the corridor to leave him with the Senator. As he marched away, a pair of marine guards appeared from a nearby alcove and took up position behind him. Both wore their dress uniforms, but Spartan could tell they were wearing light armour beneath the slightly oversized uniforms.
They’re armed for trouble, I wonder if we’re expecting any?
His attention was brought back into focus by the Senator who was waiting patiently for him to turn back to face her.
“We haven’t been properly introduced, Spartan. I am Senator Maria Hobbs and the primary representative of Euryale colony.”
“Hobbs?” asked Spartan, doing his best not to spit out the name of the Confederate officer who had done so much to discredit him. She was one of the reasons they had lost so many people, and also one of the traitors that had met their death on this very planet. He hoped to the Gods this senator wasn’t related to her.
“No, I am not related to the Marine Corps officer. I am well aware of her reputation and of her relationship towards you and your unit. She was a disgrace to the Corps and to the Confederacy. My only regret was that she didn’t meet with an accident when she was on Euryale.”
Spartan sighed in relief, that was one less thing for him to worry about. He remembered Euryale. It had been a bloody fight both on the ground and in space. It was the event that had nearly cost him his career when after the main fighting. He had left his unit to rescue the Jötnar that were trapped on an enemy ship. It had proven to be the right decision, but Hobbs had ensured he suffered for it. The Senator watched him thinking and seemed almost amused.
“Yes, she was certainly your nemesis, but I assure you, that is a mere coincidence,” she explained with a smile.
Spartan relaxed at her comments. It was clear the woman had nothing to do with the other Hobbs. If nothing else, she had a pleasant manner, something the other officer never had, even when things went her way.
“You are probably unaware that I am running the Select Committee for the Biomechs. The term may be unpopular amongst those with experience of the Jötnar, but it is the catchall for all synthetics. The mutated beasts seen on Prime or the synthetic constructions on Prometheus have been lumped into the same category. Now, I know you have substantial experience with them all, especially their leader, Gun.”
Spartan smiled at her.
“That is an understatement. They joined us during the breakout on Prometheus early in the War. Gun is a close friend and an honourable man. His people might not be the same as us, but they did their bit. They never chose this life, but we have a responsibility for them now.”
Senator Hobbs was a little surprised at the intensity and warmth Spartan had for the creatures. Few in the Centauri Alliance saw them as any more than pet Biomechs that could just as easily turn on them, as help them.
“I appreciate that a man of your experience and expertise is in great demand during this summit. You already have multiple meetings lined up, but if you could look over a report concerning the Jötnar, it would help me greatly. I don’t need you to attend our meetings, but any input you could offer would prove invaluable, and it will be of help to the Jötnar. I’m sure you are aware they have many enemies and critics in every part of the Alliance.”
Spartan shook his head.
“I would have thought that here, on Terra Nova itself, that the people would know better. They bled and died not far from here to end the War. A war they never started.”
She said nothing but looked at him. Spartan considered turning away, but deep down he was worried about his friends and the racism he continued to encounter towards them.
Maybe she can help them.
“Okay, no problem, I would be happy to help. What area are you working on, specifically?”
“Welfare, mainly. But you’ll see in the report that the Senate has a great many concerns about all of the artificial life we have seen in the last few years. Few trust the Jötnar, and most want the Biomechs wiped out. I would add that I am not one of them. I am a firm believer in the right to exist for all sentient beings in our juvenile Alliance.”
Spartan was a little taken back at the thought of annihilating the species. It was abhorrent, even to him. Especially as he knew deep down that most citizens saw little, if any, difference between those that fought for the Union and those now known as the Jötnar. If it ever came to something like that, he knew he would be forced to side with the Jötnar. He could never allow their arbitrary extermination.
“I see, well, please send it to my account, and I will be in touch.”
The Senator nodded in appreciation and walked away. Spartan called out before she vanished from view.
“Senator Maria Hobbs!” he called.
She turned back to look at him.
“Is the Select Committee going to renege on the promises made to the Jötnar?” he asked, but he knew in his heart that they were all politicians and businessmen. If it were convenient, they would quite happily turn their backs on those that had helped win the War for them.
The Senator tapped her datapad and lowered it back to her belt. Spartan’s own datapad beeped, as a file arrived, presumably the report from the Senator.
“Read the report, Lieutenant. It’s all in there.”
And with that short comment, she was gone. Spartan stood still and felt he was in the middle of a firef
ight. He was nothing but a lowly lieutenant, yet since his arrival, he’d been bombarded with arguments, requests and schedules from all manner of people. He would much rather have been back on the Santa Cruz and working with the ASOG teams. He quickly checked the time and assessed how long he had to get to the Admiral. He could make it to Khan, but he wouldn’t have long.
Screw this! I’m not going anywhere till I’ve had a drink.
He glanced down to his datapad device and brought up a map of the immediate area. The bar he intended on meeting Khan at was just a few more minutes away. He turned back to the door and heard somebody approaching.
I’m out of here!
He moved away in the direction of the Senator as quickly as he could without being too obvious. Once away from the Chamber, he slowed down and allowed himself to take in the splendour and beauty of the great hallways and corridors. The floors were all marble and artwork, dating back hundreds, perhaps thousands of years ago, filled any large space. He rounded a corner to find a large open space with a lavish red-carpeted staircase moving to the next level. What really made him stop dead in his tracks was a large metal sculpture of ancient design of a man. He walked around to look at it in awe of the detail but also of the simplicity. It was old metal, probably bronze due to the green patination and depicted a naked man, protected by nothing more than a large round shield and helmet. In his right hand was a long spear, perhaps three metres long, and pointing up the staircase. He circled the figure until he stopped at the front and noticed a simple plaque at the base that read ¼¿»|½ »±².
What the hell is that?
One of the Terra Nova Guards spotted him and walked over to stand to his right.
“Lieutenant?” asked the man.
Spartan looked over to the immaculately dressed soldier.
“Yes?” he replied.
“The plaque. It reads Molon labe. In English it means ‘Come and take them’.
Spartan looked back to the plaque but failed to see how the odd shapes could even represent the sounds, let alone the words of the phrase. He looked back to the soldier to see him smiling. He almost said something he would regret but noted the friendliness in the man’s face.
“It is Ancient Greek, that’s what the researcher tell me anyway,” he explained.
Spartan smiled. The man was being polite after all.
“This is one of the oldest relics from Old Earth. It is of a man called Leonidas who led his people in a last stand against a million soldiers of the Persian Empire. The phrase is his response of defiance to the demands of the enemy to surrender their arms. His small force of just three hundred warriors fought them for days before being killed.”
Spartan looked back to the figure. His body was sculptured like an athlete, and he was obviously a warrior of skill and prowess. He was sure the helmet was of a design he had seen before. Without looking away, he continued to speak with the soldier.
“These people, do we know what they called themselves?”
“Of course, Lieutenant. They’re called Lacedaemonians after their territory in Greece, but most people named them after their city of Sparta. That’s why we still know them as the Spartans.”
With that last comment, he almost choked.
CHAPTER FIVE
After the robotic mules of the Marine Corps came a whole array of machines intended to reduce the number of military personnel. First were the supply drones, then the reconnaissance vehicles and then spacecraft. There were short-lived attempts to use Union prisoners in non-combat roles but sabotage and non-compliance made them even less useful than keeping than doing the work with machines. With the severe manpower shortages, the Alliance would become more and more reliant upon the synthetic citizens and machines it detested so much.
History of Slave Labour
With a final burst of its lateral manoeuvring thrusters, the Alliance Marine Corps heavy transport ANS Santa Maria moved into its orbital holding pattern. The massive warship contained two rotating cylindrical sections that simulated Earth’s gravity. Large internal storage hangars carried landing shuttles and utility craft for military and civilian operations. The ship carried light gun batteries that were mounted on the rotating cylindrical sections. These were kinetic railguns capable of smashing through any current armour. A veteran of the Uprising in Proxima Centauri, the ship still bore a number of scars from the fighting at the Anomaly Spacebridge and in orbit around Terra Nova.
General Rivers watched their progress from the CIC (Combat Information Centre) situated in the heart of the great ship. As one of the few surviving senior commanders from the War, he was the Alliance’s most experienced tactician. He was a hero to those on Kerberos and the other liberated colonies in Proxima Centauri.
“General, we’re picking up no traces of the Atlantic Star. No fuel spills, no debris and certainly no distress beacons of any kind. She must have burned up in the atmosphere,” suggested Captain George Cornwall.
He was the tall, grey haired commander of the Santa Maria, and it was his first combat mission in his new post. He’d transferred to the ship, following her recent refit at Prometheus, along with the rest of the replacement crew. Though far less experienced that an old warhorse like the General, he had served as a heavy cruiser captain under Rear Admiral Churchill during the War and was known to be a bold commander and a rising star in the Alliance Navy.
General Rivers glared at the viewscreen, as if by looking harder, he could force a sign of the ship to appear. It wasn’t just that a vessel had vanished. It was the implication that the enemy could annihilate such a large civilian ship when they were broken and beaten. Even worse, they had done it out here, in the vicinity of one of the most unpleasant planets in the Alliance. He looked back to the Captain.
“Maybe, maybe not. Don’t forget, Hyperion is well supported by moons, so we will have to scan every square inch of this place. What is the status of the automated supply post?”
The Captain took a few seconds as he checked the readings on the main screen.
“The supply post is showing as functioning, no security warnings or alerts. Computers are reporting the fuel supply is down thirteen percent, and the log shows the Atlantic Star took on supplies as expected.”
General Rivers nodded and continued to monitor the situation.
So she definitely was here, and the only other information we have is her distress signal. Either she was destroyed, or she was taken somewhere else.
Captain Cornwall altered the view of the sector and zoomed out to show the planet and its moons. He pointed to the largest of the satellites.
“What if the signal was forged, and the ship simply hijacked and taken somewhere else? A well-trained crew could move the ship into orbit around one of the larger moons.”
General Rivers looked at the map for a few seconds. It was true, the ship could have been moved, that didn’t explain why though.
What is so special about the Atlantic Star? She had a large civilian crew and a number of specialists but no major hardware, supplies or equipment.
He walked towards the Captain and examined the moons once more.
“Captain, if you were running an insurgent operation in this area, why would you attack a civilian ship, and what would you do with it?”
The Captain rubbed his chin for a moment as he considered the possibilities.
“Well, there are only two reasons I can think of. The most likely is that they saw something they shouldn’t have, or perhaps they would have detected something had they stayed any longer. The only other option would be that they needed the resources from the ship.”
General Rivers nodded in agreement.
“Yes, my gut instinct tells me they are up to something in this region. I’ve seen how they work, and they are the masters at hiding facilities and operations right under our noses. Remember Prometheus?”
“Or Terra Nova,” added the Captain.
Yes, that is true. An entire Artificial Intelligence Core that was based under the
Palace of the Capital for decades. If they could hide that, what couldn’t they hide?
“Captain, keep your crew at maximum readiness. We need to know what’s going on here, and fast. I will brief our boarding parties, and they will be ready if and when you find something.”
“Yes, General,” he answered and the turned back to his crew.
He was needed to oversee the initial scouting procedures to be carried out in the sector. It took time to even prep the craft, let alone launch and send them to their destinations. The General watched as the Captain and his executive officer coordinated the large-scale operation. They were fast and efficient, and he was reminded of the quick thinking Admiral Jarvis back when they had planned and carried out operations in the War. Compared to those days, this operation seemed like a picnic. Even so, he knew what was at stake, and as always, preparation was paramount.
Satisfied that the operation was proceeding smooth, General Rivers nodded and then left the CIC and marched down the main corridor. His marine bodyguard followed him closely behind as they made quick progress. It took just a few minutes to reach the briefing room where a number of officers were waiting. As he entered, the assembled crowd stood smartly to attention. The ship was easily capable of carrying over a thousand fully armed men. For this operation the number had been slashed to just three companies of marines from the old 2nd Marine battalion, veteran soldiers that had served on the sister ship Bunker Hill. There were also a number of engineers plus a single ASOG Reconnaissance eight-man troop, commanded by none other than Lieutenant Spartan’s wife, Sergeant Teresa Morato. He moved to his customary spot at the front of the briefing room and looked out to the group of no more than fifty people, indicating for them to sit.
“Marines, as you no doubt already know, we are now orbiting around the planet Hyperion, and our mission to discover the fate of the Atlantic Star is now underway. I know some of you may have known passengers on the ship, and I would remind you now that it is imperative you focus on the mission. The only way you can help them is to keep our plan running smoothly.”
Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy Page 67
