Tears of Kerberos

by Michael G. Thomas

  The heavy metal door slid open and in walked Admiral Jarvis, flanked by two armed guards. They were both commandos with over a decade’s experience in space and ground combat operations. The marines wore full PDS suits and were therefore covered in armour from head to toe. Each man carried an L48 carbine with the small calibre module fitted for use in interstellar operations.

  The use of the standard large calibre L48 round would be devastating in the confines of such a vessel in space. These men were the only fully equipped units on the ship. The rest would have to break out weapons from the lockers, if and when an emergency occurred. As they entered the CiC, the two additional guards that protected the sensitive part of the ship stepped aside and saluted. Unlike the two marines accompanying the Admiral, these men wore no armour, only standard issue combat fatigues and pistols. The use of heavier weapons was being strictly controlled due to the possibility of infiltration and hijacking throughout the Fleet.

  Admiral Jarvis moved directly past them and to the table where General Rivers was checking the campaign details. Her guards stood close by but not too close as to be obtrusive. News had arrived only a few hours earlier of an attempt to secure the bridge of the CCS Santa Maria. Fortunately, her marine guards had managed to prevent casualties. Since then there was a crackdown on all with links to a number of religious factions and left-wing militant organisations.

  Captain Hardy and General Rivers stood to attention as she approached.

  “Admiral, you received my message?” asked the General.

  “Indeed I did. Army units are pushing back the Zealots and their allies. I don’t see the problem.”

  General Rivers hit a few buttons so that the map pulled backwards and towards the coast. Much of the coastline was rocky and packed with large, almost insurmountable cliffs. Three points were flagged on the display where the coast flattened and led to sheltered coves and beaches. Around these areas were large numbers of the enemy moving to the water. Further inland were the rapidly advancing armies of the Confederacy who were snapping at their heels. The coloured markers also indicated a number of utility aircraft landing near the enemy forces.

  “What am I looking at?” she asked.

  “These are the retreating troops from the attacks in the South. They have been beaten in open battle and are retreating cross-country to the sea. General Shears has ordered several of the armoured units to pursue them, the remainder are helping with the relief of the outposts and cities,” he pointed at the moving icons on the map.

  “These aircraft appear to be chartered flights that are taking away the retreating units. Most are small, no more than three of four crew but there are a few larger cargo craft that can move a few hundred at a time,” explained the General. “Right now I am more interested in securing the colony.”

  Admiral Jarvis examined the display. “Well, it does mean they will live for another day but for now the security of Avagana is the most important factor. So far this is all good news, what about their shock troops? Are they falling back too?” she asked impatiently.

  “This is one of the problems,” he zoomed in closer to the waterline. The view enlarged to show numerous vessels, some as small as rowing boats, others the size of passenger vessels, as they helped people aboard. Some of the larger ones were launching their own aircraft to help bring people away from the shore.

  “Who are they?”

  “We aren’t sure yet but the news feeds are saying some of the relief agencies from New Georgia are helping evacuate refugees and civilians from the fighting. Two of the Churches are also funding ships to help them leave the area.”

  On one of the screens was a video feed from a Navy reconnaissance jet as it blasted past the beach. The cameras clearly showed the numbers of people making their way to the boats and the large number of infantry on the beach helping them board. The soldiers were not Confederate troops, their uniforms were a grey colour and their craft were common to the militia forces of the Seven Colonies.

  “Okay, I see the problem. We have civilian forces, as well as what I am sure will be described as peacekeepers, helping to clear them from the battlefield. You realise this will allow them to regroup to continue the fight in the future? Even so, we can’t end this revolt without directly engaging their vessels on the coast or in international waters. Any engagement with forces of the colonies will result in hostilities between us and their combined ground forces.” She moved the map across to track the movements of the ships. “I assume a full scale conflict between Avagana and the six colonies is a war we cannot win?”

  “Not a chance. At present we are winning, their forces are retreating and we are seeing successes across the continent. If the other six colonies declare open support for the uprising we will face the combined forces of their militaries as well as mobilised militia, the religious orders and whatever shock troopers have survived. That’s assuming they don’t have more hidden away. Also, I would expect the rest of the colonies in the System would come down on one side or another. The entire sector would be ripped apart by civil war, all of this just so we can stop their beaten forces from retreating,” he added tersely.

  Admiral Jarvis checked the disposition of the naval assets on the ground, specifically the marines and the limited number of aircraft they had deployed. She looked back at the map of the planet and the six hostile colonies that seemed to be doing everything possible to cause a rift between them and the Confederation Forces. The more she thought about the situation the more she was convinced the other colonies were trying to provoke a shooting war on the surface.

  “So it would be in the interest of the insurgents to provoke us into attacking other colonial forces. They could use this to try and drag us, and the rest of the colonies, into a shooting war. We need to be careful. Once they take the survivors away from Avagana, where are they taking them?”

  “Well, our reconnaissance handlers on the ground say the civilians are being taken to lots of different locations, some to New Georgia, others directly to the ports for transfer to liners trying to break the blockade.”

  Captain Hardy interjected at the mention of the blockade.

  “Admiral, in the last hour we have intercepted seventeen transports. Each claim they are carrying refugees from the combat area. We’ve turned three back but the rest were clear. No unauthorised personnel, no weapons and nobody from the religious orders that we know of.”

  Admiral Jarvis turned back to the General.

  “What about their new pets? Surely their experimental warriors aren’t just queuing up and climbing aboard the boats? Everything I have seen so far suggests they are well motivated, strong and able to fight for much longer than regular units.”

  “Indeed not. At first we thought they were falling back to the coast, but it seems they aren’t heading for the coast at all. It’s the Zealots fanatics, foreign fighters and other volunteers who are trying to escape along with a number of civilians. Of course it is often hard to tell the difference between them, it’s not like they all wear a blue uniform! Most of the shock troops are making their way back underground and into the many catacombs and tunnels they have been working on. We started to try holding them back, but it’s safer all round to let them retreat than trying to destroy a cornered animal. The Air Force has had a field day mopping up as they fall back. A large contingent of them is working their way over ground and underground to the Bone Mill.”

  Admiral Jarvis moved the map over to the infamous site and examined the aerial shots with interest. It was heavily pockmarked from battle and bombs, over two-dozen armoured vehicles were still belching smoke from recent battle.

  “I thought the Bone Mill had already been bombarded? Why bother retreating to a smoking hole in the ground? Wouldn’t it be better for them to just expend their forces in a final push on the cities?”

  “It has, that doesn’t stop them making their way back. I have given orders for them to be pursued back to the site but under no circumstances must we try to stop them. We’v
e given them one clear route out of the battle area and they are taking it,” he said as he ran his finger along the display. The map zoomed in to the immediate area around the Bone Mill.

  “When their forces are contained we will collapse the site once and for all!”

  “Bury them alive, General? What about the connecting tunnels? From what we have seen they have extensive underground tunnel networks that travels miles in each direction. How will you pacify them?”

  “I have a squadron of Thunderbolt fighters armed with low yield tactical neutron bombs on standby. Once they are secured at the Bone Mill, the strike will destroy the primary structure and the weapon will kill everything within a twenty kilometre radius.”

  “So you’re going to nuke them. Are you happy with using the nuclear inventory from the Fleet? The nuclear option is always one of last resort. What if the colonies respond in kind? We don’t want to start a nuclear exchange,” she said in a concerned tone.

  “I haven’t taken the decision lightly. Under the circumstances I think it is the best and most humane way to resolve the problem. A single strike will eliminate this genetic threat, as well as destroy whatever they have underground that has allowed them to create the creatures to start with. The neutron bombs have a much smaller area of destruction, under a kilometre. The radiation damage is short lived and should clear most of the tunnels with little residual radiation. The only other option is with conventional weapons, that will require a prolonged bombardment and is easily avoided by digging down deeper or taking the more remote tunnels.”

  A red light started flashing on the communications desk. At the same time a continuous drone started to drown out the sound of conversation in the room. It was a sound that was heard only a few times a month and indicated narrowband data from High Command. The communications officer handed a datapad to Captain Hardy who read it then turned and marched directly to the two senior officers. His face was flushed, whether it was from the stress of the operation or the material he had just read, they couldn’t tell.

  “Admiral, I have a secure transmission from Fleet Headquarters, it has just finished decoding. I think you will want to see it.”

  “Of course,” she said almost dismissively, “thank you, Captain.”

  She picked up her datapad and examined the contents of the message. It took only a few seconds to read before she sighed and lowered it to her side. The General looked at her, waiting for some comment on the news. She handed him the datapad but continued to explain the contents anyway.

  “The signal is a delayed communication from Fleet HQ at Alpha Centauri. Apparently there has been a violent coup attempt on Terra Nova. Over thirty officers killed along with a number of the Council. The infiltration was by Fleet personnel who are currently being interrogated. The coup was led by separatists from Carthago and it says here that the movement is spreading. Some of the colonies are already debating secession from the Confederacy.”

  “Good God, I thought we had it bad enough in this System,” General Rivers sighed.

  “There’s more, they are warning that several militant monotheistic groups are planning something major and they think genetic manipulation will play a big part in it. Raids on laboratories on the Confederate Research Stations have shown collusion between some of the top biologists, one of whom has been selling data to a terrorist group.”

  “We could have used this information weeks ago before this started,” said a very irritable Captain Hardy.

  General Rivers read down the information on the datapad until he came to the last section of text. “It says all traffic from AC has been halted and any ships en route to Proxima have been turned around. A general quarantine alert for the Proxima System has been put into effect until the crisis is resolved.”

  “I don’t understand, Admiral, why are they blocking us?” the Captain asked.

  “It is simple. Until the contamination is halted in the home System, they want to shield us from any fallout. They are assuming of course that nothing will have happened here.”

  “A fat lot of good that will do us now. We are already facing a potential civil war between the colonies here if we don’t resolve the situation quickly. What worries me is how much better or worse are they faring compared to here? If you ask me I think Proxima is taking a hell of a beating right now. We’ve had hijackings, satellite occupation, capital ship engagement and now a full-scale ground war on Prime. How can it get any worse?”

  “ You’re making a joke I assume, General?” said the Admiral sternly. “As I’m sure you are aware, the situation can always get worse!”

  The General looked a little uncomfortable at the rebuking before changing the subject. “How long ago was the message sent?”

  “Sixty-two days. Anything could have happened since then, hell the entire System could be overrun with Zealots and in the middle of a full-scale colonial war. We need information and we need it fast!” She turned to her communications officer.

  “Lieutenant, check the relay link to Fleet HQ on Terra Nova!”

  The officer flicked a few buttons and then scanned the various frequencies used by the communication facilities throughout the stations and ships of the Fleet. At first it appeared everything was normal, then the officer realised something wasn’t right. He tried a few more channels but they were all the same. Moving his hand across the screen he added various filters to the data streams but nothing changed the seemingly random nature of the noise. He turned back with a look of surprise on his face.

  “Sir, nothing, just static. It’s like the signal is being jammed with digital noise. Every single channel is the same, from the main feed down to the wideband data streams. I’ve tried clearance filters and noise reduction and the system can’t find anything.”

  “So whatever is going on at Terra Nova, Admiral, we can assume they will not be sending us any help?”

  “Quite possibly. Either way, General, with no communications, intelligence or supplies we’re pretty much on our own.”

  Admiral Jarvis examined her tactical display as she checked on the status of the systems and ships scattered through the Proxima System. She turned to her communications and tactical officers.

  “I want a full update on the readiness of all Confed units in the entire System. I need to know the status of every single ship, transports, supplies, stations and personnel. Make sure you include Army and Auxiliary vessels, include everything!”

  General Rivers turned and spoke to one of the armed guards before turning back to the Admiral.

  “I’ll get my field commanders to gather reports on all our units and outposts.”

  Admiral Jarvis looked at the display zooming out to view the whole System. Coloured dots indicated friendly vessels, lines and discs showed the various shipping lanes and orbits. A flashing circle showed where the CCS Wasp was located around the planet of Prime. Although many of the vessels were centred on Prime, many more were scattered about the System. She started to count them but gave up once she had reached fifty ships of destroyer class or larger.

  Up until now most of the ships in action were being used in ad-hoc formations to conduct limited operations. If this campaign were to go on any longer she would need to establish a number of new fleets and squadrons based on the assets available in the System.

  “We’re on our own here and we need to start planning for a long campaign,” she said quietly to herself as she worked out the optimum placement for the vessels.

  * * *

  Johnson had been sat at his desk for the last two hours and was having a hard time trying to extract the data from the recovered datapad. Normally he would have handed in the evidence but with the way things were looking right now in Yama, the capital of the colony, he would rather keep it to himself. On one of the video screens to his right he had three feeds running. Two were general aggregate lists of news and reports, the third was a live signal direct from the Parliament Building in the centre of the city. There were always areas of competition between th
e colonies, but from the rhetoric on the floor of the house he was noticing a trend between the conservative religious parties and those of the ruling liberal coalition. There had already been a failed vote by the opposition to send peacekeepers to Prime to halt the Confed forces in their counteroffensive to clear the colony of Avagana.

  Johnson turned back to the datapad and the data he had already extracted onto his computer. At first glance the data cartridges appeared to be blank, but examination under his forensic tools had reveal multiple hidden partitions behind the actual wiped data. It was a clever ruse and would stand up to most examinations. Moving the data to his computer had required him to disable several of his own firewalls but it was a risk worth taking. As he moved some of the data to a secure section of his computer system he heard someone approaching. With a deft flick he moved the data and slid over a virtual folder that contained mugshots over the top. He turned to see Agent Petoskey stood over his shoulder.

  “You seen the news?” he asked.

  Johnson double-checked his screen before turning to the man.

  “Yeah, I’ve got the live feeds running here,” he replied as he pointed to the displays.

  “Right, you see what the Confeds have been doing? Just got a report that they are attacking civilians with strike planes. Bastards!”

  Johnson could feel the question inside the statement. Petoskey was one of the many nationalistic Kerberons who seemed to hate anything off-world. The only thing worse than the Primes to them was the long arm of the Confederate armed forces getting involved in the business of the Kerberos Intelligence Unit. He had no illusions that as a member of Confed Naval Intelligence, seconded to the local unit, his life would be in serious jeopardy if Petoskey suspected he was anything other than a Kerberon loyalist.