Tears of Kerberos

by Michael G. Thomas

  Anderson pointed at the data on the screen in front of him. As he looked he noticed the expression on Johnson’s face.

  “What is it?”

  “President West, they’re going to launch a coup, listen!”

  He turned up the audio on the feed coming from the second robotic device. They listened to the details before Commander Anderson turned it down. He reached out and pressed a few keys to combine the data into a compressed packet for transmission. It only took a few seconds before it was ready. The communications relay was automatically tracking the correct destination point in case they needed to send data back in a hurry. He hit the key to find it immediately blocked.

  “They know!” Johnson pointed at the screen.

  A number of men ran in with scanners and one appeared in front of the second UAV before the video feed cut out.

  “The signal is blocked, we need to get out of Dodge!” said Anderson as he rushed to the cockpit and strapped himself in.

  As he began the start up procedure Agent Johnson shouted back along the corridor to the Commander.

  “They’re eight metres away and moving slowly, they must be trying to leave discreetly.”

  Anderson pulled the intercom from the ceiling of the craft so he could speak directly with the team.

  “Morato! Blackwatch! Get your ass here and fast, we’ve got serious problems!”

  * * *

  Spartan sat in the anteroom alongside Marcus. They had been there for over two hours as an emergency session was being held between President West and his security council. The announcements of the colonial secession were spreading like wildfire on every single media outlet. From where they were positioned they could easily hear the shouting and chanting outside the building as large numbers of the public had congregated to protest against the Confederacy or against the breaking up of the old institution. Every few minutes the sound of police sirens and vehicles indicated yet more incidents between the groups as they argued and sometimes fought outside the building.

  Marcus leaned over, speaking quietly. “What do you think is going to happen here?”

  “What do you mean?” replied Spartan, not entirely sure which problem he was referring too.

  “Kerberos, do you think they will secede as well? Just listen to them out there. I reckon they’ll lynch him either way.”

  “No, have you seen President West? He looks like a diehard Confederate to me, but I don’t think he’s the problem though. You saw the video feeds. There are plenty of people that want him and us out. In my experience people often want change just for the sake of it.”

  The two men were silent, Spartan listened to the sounds outside as he looked at his datapad to check the media feeds. Every channel was showing the same, the protests and violence in the streets outside.

  “Look at them,” Spartan showed the device to Marcus.

  “As soon as West tells them the official line there is going to be uproar, I guarantee it,” said Marcus.

  “You’re probably right. With most of the colonies of Prime, Orthrus and Agora already gone, if Kerberos leaves as well what will happen with the Fleet? What will happen to us?”

  A loud chorus of shouting and chanting could be heard though the walls.

  “Listen to them, can you believe the fuss they’re making out there?”

  “I don’t know, that sounded like it was inside the building to me,” said Spartan as he look around. The Marine Guards seemed unperturbed by the sounds.

  Spartan approached the two guards waiting at the bottom of the wide grand staircase that led to the visitor apartments. He could see the two men were talking to each other. As soon as they spotted him they stopped and the nearest turned to him.

  “Everything okay, Sergeant?”

  “Yeah, did hear noise inside the building?”

  “It’s okay, there was an attempt to break the perimeter wall on the North side. We’ve already cleared the area and arrested the hooligans. Just a few broken windows,” he said reassuringly.

  Spartan turned to move back. He wasn’t sure though, something wasn’t right and right now he couldn’t put his finger on it.

  * * *

  Teresa was first up the ramp and inside the ship. Once safe she moved to the side and turned back to watch the rest of her team join her. Bishop was next and closely followed by the other three. Only Williams was left when the guards appeared. A blast of gunfire erupted and clattered against the metal body of the ship. Two rounds struck Williams, one in the leg and the other in the stomach. A spray of bright blood splattered forward and onto the ramp. He collapsed to the ground as the others jumped to safety.

  “Get him in!” Teresa shouted as she pulled out her pistol and squeezed off a dozen rounds in quick succession.

  The guards ducked into cover, trying to avoid the barrage of fire from the pistol. Bishop and Barca pulled carbines from the weapons’ mount near the top of the ramp and proceeded to fire short bursts. The guards, now taken by surprise with their accuracy and firepower, started to retreat. Kowalski rushed down the ramp, a bullet impacting just a metre from him as he grabbed Williams by the arm. He started to drag his lifeless body along the ramp. As he moved a long, slick pattern of blood ran down the metal, it didn’t look good.

  “Get in, we need to move!” Anderson ordered over the speakers fitted throughout the ship.

  More rounds rattled around the bodywork of the spacecraft and Barca had to drop his carbine so that he could come out and help drag Williams inside.

  “Bishop, keep their heads down!” shouted Teresa.

  She grabbed another carbine from the weapons’ rack and then dropped to her knees, aiming at the guards who were still returning fire. As she was about to pull the trigger one of the men stood up and fired a short burst that missed by just a fraction.

  “Bastard!” she cried and in one quick motion, she selected the range finder and launched a large calibre explosive round in the man’s direction. As it rushed past the cover used by the guards it armed itself, then exploded in a small flash. The impact blasted the two men, one was already killed by the blast and the other smoked from the heat. The man tried to move back to safety but Teresa sent another round into his chest. It sent him flying through the air, killing him instantly.

  With the fight temporarily over Teresa reached down and helped them drag Williams inside. She hit the seal button to force the door shut. As it slammed into position she could still hear the sound of small arms fire bouncing off the vessel. She looked down at Williams but he was already dead. His eyes were lifeless and she saw the hole in his chest. She lifted her hand to her face, angry with the guards and with herself, for losing one of their team.

  “Get strapped in, we’re out of here!” Anderson shouted over the speakers.

  Bishop had already secured the body and was strapping himself in at the communications console. Teresa strapped in next to him. Agent Johnson was still trying to isolate the source of the jamming so they could send their signal. Before Teresa could speak a great clunking sound indicated they were clear of the station. The rumble from the engines started up and the familiar feeling in her stomach of the change in G forces returned. For just a second she thought she might throw up but calmed down at the last moment.

  “I’m still trying, but they must have sensors fitted amongst the asteroids out here to create an area-wide signal dampening field. It will be three minutes, maybe four before we can send a signal.”

  Commander Anderson, who was still in the cockpit, assisted the autopilot in working on the most direct route out of the Rim. The ship was already building up speed, but in this treacherous part of space they were unable to accelerate to the maximum. The short corridor joining the communication panel and the cockpit was only six metres long. Teresa could see Commander Anderson from where she sat.

  “Bishop, get the weapon system ready, I think we might have company!”

  Teresa looked at the navigation screen, quickly picking up a number of merchant ves
sels and at least one gunboat that was moving into position to intercept them.

  “How are we going to get past them?” she asked. “They’ll just destroy us from long distance before we can escape!”

  Johnson smiled at her as he started sending ghost signals to some of the approaching ships, making it more difficult for them to track and lock on their ship.

  “This ship has more than a few surprises. Get to the communications array, we’ll be in the clear for transmission shortly.”

  “Brace for impact, we have two gunboats on a strafing run!” shouted Anderson, his voice bouncing through the crew sections of the ship.

  Before they had time to respond, the clatter of canon rounds thudded through the forward section. Incredibly none of the rounds were able to cause any significant damage but to the casual observer the exterior of the ship did sustain carbon scoring and fractures to some of the fake metal skin.

  * * *

  Spartan and Marcus were still watching the video feeds of the protests when a direct communication announcement came on Spartan’s datapad automatically closing the media feeds. The outer rim of his device glowed red, he hadn’t even seen this before.

  “What the hell is that?” asked Marcus, instantly suspicious.

  Spartan lifted up the pad to see a request for a cipher to decode a classified message that had been repeated and bumped down from the orbiting CCS Santa Cruz. He checked the sender before pressing anything and noted it was anonymous, at least that’s what it said. For a moment he considered doing nothing but there was a good chance it was important and the fact it came from the ship must mean it had some kind of providence.

  “Screw it!” he said and quickly input his cipher codes.

  The display flashed and turned to an image of a bloodied Teresa.

  “Teresa!” said Spartan, a little louder than he intended.

  Marcus moved over, looking at the video. “What has she got into now?”

  The video was a one-way transmission and sent some time ago due to the time difference between locations in the sector.

  “This is Private Morato of the Confederate Marine Corps,” she started before the video feed crackled and started to phase shift.

  In the background a number of people were rushing about and sparks and flashes suggested there was some kind of ongoing violence or emergency. As the picture settled Teresa reappeared and continued.

  “Our mission to the Rim has revealed a plot centred on Typhon, leader of the...” the image disappeared and the audio crackled for several seconds again, “intend to assassinate President West...” the audio dropped out again.

  “A coup? What the hell!” Marcus looked around, seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

  “Guards Company...assassinate President...church” the audio finally cut out completely.

  For a short while the video feed continued, Spartan tried as hard as he could but he couldn’t work out what she was saying. He could however make out the background was the bulkhead section of a ship of some kind. It wasn’t military, or at least not like any ship he had been on yet. Then the image cut as suddenly as it had started to be replaced with a message indicating it was the end of the transmission. Spartan was stunned. It might have been the image of Teresa, or more likely the message, but for the briefest of moments he was paralysed with the arrival of the information.

  “Spartan? Come on, what’s the plan?” asked an anxious Marcus.

  It was as though a switch had been flicked inside Spartan’s brain as he suddenly started to glance around the anteroom and at the Marine Guards stationed at all the key locations.

  “I tell you what we’re going to do, we’re going to get the General and the President out of here!” he said as quietly as he could.

  “How though? If the Guards are in on the plan then what friends do we have left?”

  “Shit, you’ve got a point, come on!”

  The two turned to the door that led to where the meeting with President West and his Cabinet was taking place. Spartan placed his hand on the door and turned the handle, nothing happened. He pushed the door and still it remained firmly shut.

  “Hey, what are you doing?” said one of the Marine Guards as he approached.

  “We need to get inside!”

  The marine raised his carbine and pointed it at Spartan, as he did so the other five Marine Guards in the open room did the same.

  “Oh man, this is bullshit!” swore Marcus.

  Spartan put his hands out in front in a gesture of compliance and moved slowly towards the man.

  “We just need to speak with the President, something has come up,” said Spartan again, this time even firmer in his tone.

  “I don’t care what you want, he is being taken care of, you just stay here and keep out of...” he didn’t get to finish as Spartan ducked to the side and jumped in, grabbing the carbine. He swung it around to strike the man in the head. The guard slumped to the floor as Spartan lowered the weapon, pointing it at the rest of the marines.

  “Get it open!” Spartan shouted to Marcus who was already kicking the door to try and open it. Finally becoming frustrated he pulled out his sidearm and emptied three rounds into the frame before it finally buckled.

  “Go!” Spartan shouted and with all the speed they could muster the two rushed inside.

  As Spartan emerged into the room he was shocked to find it deserted. Not a single member of the Cabinet or even the President was there. The two spread out, looking for any signs of the men in the large meeting room. A shape appeared at the door and Spartan put two rounds into the open space, discouraging anybody from entering for now.

  “They won’t wait long, we need to find them!” Marcus said as he looked behind each of the desks and chairs.

  Another man approached the doorway and this time he entered the room. Spartan did his best to not kill the man and put a round into his upper leg, the man dropped, crying out in pain.

  “Here!” Marcus called out as he found a false wall at the back of the room. With a tug he pulled it open to reveal several bodies slumped across the desks. In the middle of the room lay the bloodied body of President West as well as three Marine Guards.

  “Oh shit, Marcus, it’s a setup!”

  They ducked into the second room and took cover among the already shattered decks and tables. As they waited it was evident a terrible scene of violence had taken place in the last hour. Marcus checked the President for a pulse before turning back to Spartan.

  “He’s cold, they must have done this just after they went in, how did we not hear it?”

  Part of the wall to the side turned white and they were knocked backwards by the violent blast. As Spartan tried to get up four men in black body armour of the Guards Unit formed a line. Each of them was pointing a thermal shotgun at him. Spartan shook his head, trying to clear the fuzziness from the stun grenade. He looked to his right, Marcus was unconscious and slumped across a desk.

  “You bastards!”

  He started to lift his weapon when General Rivers entered the room. For a second Spartan thought he might be behind the assassination but then he saw the cuffs on his wrists and the gag on his face. Two more armoured guards flanked him. As Spartan watched in shock the men rushed forward to secure him. With his instincts kicking in he emptied the pistol into the first but the pistol wasn’t powerful enough to penetrate the thick armour and they were instantly on top of him. He punched and kicked with all his strength but there were too many. In just under a minute they had him knocked to the ground and unconscious.

  * * *

  Admiral Jarvis stood in the CiC of the CCS Wasp, waiting for news from Commander Anderson. In the last ten minutes a number of jammed data packets had been received but there was too much corruption for her people to obtain much solid information. She was starting to become impatient.

  “Captain, any news from the Fleet at Kerberos?”

  Captain Hardy spoke briefly with the Communications Officer before turning back to her.r />
  “Nothing, Admiral, the last update was the regular sitrep one hour ago.”

  She stood, examining the disposition of the ships on her display. Already a number of vessels were heading to Kerberos and Prime to reinforce the ships already there.

  “Put me through to the Crusader, they must have heard something by now!” she said, her patience finally running out.

  “Sir,” the Captain gave the orders to his crew.

  The officers moved about, realigning their communication arrays to receive the narrowband encrypted data channels. There was something wrong, Admiral Jarvis could tell by the crew’s body language that they were having problems.

  “What is it?” she asked finally.

  “All channels to Kerberos are being jammed, Admiral,” replied the Communications Officer.

  “Jammed, by whom?”

  “I...uh...don’t know, Sir. The signal is being overlaid with an unencrypted video stream, it is being played out on all frequencies.”

  “Put it on,” ordered Captain Hardy.

  “The main display slid away from the strategic map and to a standard definition colour video stream of a podium behind which hung the banners of the Church of Echidna.

  “What is this nonsense?” she demanded.

  There was no time to answer her as a man in a robe stepped up to the podium and removed his hood.

  “I, Typhon, Bishop of Yama City and head of our good Church and the people of Kerberos welcome all with open hands. I thank you,” he said as he lifted his hands.

  Admiral Jarvis turned her head in disbelief at the platform being used by this man.

  “Fellow Kerberons and citizens of Proxima. I have been asked to speak by the Vice President of Kerberos. Within the last few hours a terrible event has occurred. Not content with violence and depravity on Prime, the agents of the Confederacy have struck in this very city. President West and a number of his key advisors have been assassinated by a well organised and savage assault by agents of the Confederate Navy,” he said as he waved to someone off camera.