Tears of Kerberos (17 page)

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Authors: Michael G Thomas

Tags: #Fiction, #Science Fiction, #Military, #Space Opera, #High Tech

BOOK: Tears of Kerberos
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“Greetings, I hope your journey was uneventful.”

The video showed the officer but from his surroundings the ship looked less than spacious. Commander Anderson was actually stooping under a bulkhead so that he could see the screen. It didn’t inspire confidence in Teresa and her hope for more space to move around in. From the port window she could see the ship getting closer. The engines of the vessel were on full burn as the transport propelled towards the Rim and their destination. Only a fast craft like their shuttle had a chance of meeting them in time without slowing down the Tamarisk and risking the mission.

“Agent Johnson is already onboard and I have taken delivery of items of equipment that should prove useful to our mission. That is all for now, we will discuss this in more detail upon your arrival. Please watch the gravity when you come aboard, due to the acceleration we are operating at a few percentage points over normal. Anderson, out,” he said and the screen cut to black.

“Short and sweet,” said Kowalski.

“Just like Teresa!” laughed Bishop.

 
Teresa turned to the two of them and gave them a look that stopped their amusement in their tracks.

From inside the shuttle the Tamarisk was definitely less than inspiring. She was an old ship by any standards and though she had been well repaired, no effort had been made to beautify the vessel in any way. The outer hull was pockmarked with scratches and marks from her many voyages. The shape was unusual, as the vessel looked like three spheres joined together by a series of gantries running along the outer parts of the ship. As they moved ahead she could see that the spheres were just the last third of the ship. The remaining middle of the ship consisted of a dozen rectangular sections designed for carrying mechanical parts and supplies. Only the front of the vessel appeared remotely friendly, with its rounded nose and many windows installed for the crew and passengers. From the datasheets Teresa had been reading on the way, she knew the ship could carry up to thirty passengers at a time. It contained enough sleeping room and storage for this number for up to six months.

“No rotating sections? I take it the ship is a zero-g environment craft then?” Teresa asked as she leaned over to Kowalski and Bishop who were sitting in front of her.

“You’ve never been on a clipper before?” asked a surprised Kowalski.

“No, why would I?”
                                               

“True. Still, clippers work like any of the high-speed ships that we use to move people and materials through the System. They’re just the same as the colony ships and military transports.”

“I don’t understand, same in what way?”

Kowalski looked at the other marines with a look that told Teresa it was a question you shouldn’t need to ask.

Private Williams, the youngest of the group and an avid reader of anything technical or military, turned around in his seat so he could see Teresa. He looked at her for a moment before receiving a withering stare. He looked nervous, something Teresa found amusing for a marine.

“Uh, the high speed ships are all designed to be able to move their cargos quickly through the System. This is usually used for volatile or time critical items, sometimes even the military use it for the rapid transfer of troops to a warzone. It is expensive and not all the ships are equipped to travel in this way.”

“Explain it to me, please?” she said in a tone that Bishop and Kowalski instantly recognised as the dry sarcasm she used with them. Williams hadn’t noticed though and launched into a simplified description.

“If you want to travel between two places in the Confederacy you will need speed, a lot of it or it could take you months or years depending on your destination. Many ships will just accelerate to a certain speed and then coast using Ion thrusters to maintain a speed to their destination. That is how most of the heavy transports work. In fact some never technically slow down, they follow a continuous path on their elliptical courses through Proxima. They have to be loaded and unloaded at speed by other craft.”

“Yeah, and what about the high speed ships?”

“Oh, right. Well, to go farther these ships spend all of their time accelerating. So they leave and fire their engines and keep them on till they reach the halfway point. Then they rotate around and fire the engines in reverse and continue for the other half.”

“Ah, that’s why we have gravity in this shuttle?” asked Teresa.

“Uh, yeah, you only just worked that out?” Bishop laughed.

Barca, the fourth marine in the group leaned into the conversation.

“I’ve always wondered about that actually. Most of our ships have rotating sections to provide artificial gravity for long journeys. What happens with the high-speed ships? Surely constant acceleration will create a g force that will effectively create an amount of gravity.”

“Holy crap, you actually studied?” laughed Williams.

“You’re a funny guy, Williams,” responded Barca.

“Well, that is why the ships tend to used a linear, fixed acceleration. For ships carrying crew it is normal to stay on a 1g burn. So the ship maintains a continuous level of acceleration that is approximately 1g in thrust. Providing the ships are designed for the trips the rear of any inhabited sections will become the floor. You might have noticed the signing on the marine transports that implies you could walk in multiple places depending on the orientation of the ship. If the vessel is coasting or moving at low levels of acceleration we use the rotating sections. Once the ships speed up the rotating sections can be stopped and the gravity is provided by the thrust alone.”

“Interesting. We didn’t do that on the Santa Maria when we made our way to Prime,” said Teresa.

“That doesn’t surprise me, the Maria is also used as a training ship. You will have spent most of the journey coasting while picking up new recruits and supplies. You signed up in Prometheus as well, right?” he asked.

Teresa nodded.

“Well, it is very dangerous to use the high speed transport option in an area like Prometheus. Hell, I know a few decades ago an army transport tried a direct run to the planet and was lost with all hands in the storms. I think a few thousand died in that incident.”

“Look, we’re nearly there,” said Bishop.

The marines watched the vessel, the computer handling the entire operation as the shuttlecraft approached the side of the ship. The process appeared painfully slow but the marines knew that both craft had been accelerating until this point and at incredibly high speeds. With a sickening feeling in their stomachs the primary engines of the shuttle cut off in synchronisation with the Tamarisk. At first the larger ship appeared to drift ahead but minute adjustments by the shuttle’s computer helped them maintain the speed.

“Crap, weightless again,” Bishop moaned.

With the two spacecraft now travelling at a constant speed the shuttlecraft moved sideways, the small manoeuvring jets helping to nudge the craft inside.

“Uh, are they going to let us in?” asked Kowalski.

As if on cue a large metal shutter raised to reveal a cramped hangar space. Teresa noticed two more craft already stowed inside. One looked like a civilian shuttle, similar to the one they were in but far older and undoubtedly much cheaper. Clamped next to the shuttle was what looked like a Marauder a larger version of the Thunderbolt fighter that could carry extra crew. She turned to Bishop.

“Is that what I think it is?”

“You bet your ass it is. I never thought I’d see one, the Marauder is pretty rare these days. Most have been scrapped or converted back to Thunderbolts. I guess they think we might need something with a pit of a punch.”

Their shuttle moved slowly inside the hangar space and alongside the other craft. No sooner were they past the shutters, they started to close again. The blackness of the hangar was lit by the interior lights of their shuttle alone. Teresa sat quietly, waiting for their automated docking to complete. Their craft rotated a full ninety degrees before approaching one of the landing clamps to the rear of the space. With a final clunk the shuttle shook and a series of green lights flashed around the airlock and various displays on the walls. Teresa made to move before Bishop’s hand held her shoulder.

“No, not yet, we are still coasting. Wait till we get the double green before getting up.”

Teresa looked at him, a little confused as to what was going on. Then a shudder shook through the shuttle and she could feel herself being pushed back into her seat. She felt heavier and heavier until finally they must have been back to normal gravity. A hiss echoed through the passenger area as the airlock opened to a small doorway leading into the hangar. Releasing her harness Teresa expected to float out, completely forgetting the entire point of what had just happened and instead found she was pinned in her seat. She looked over at the amused face of Williams.

“The acceleration, remember?” he laughed.

Teresa stood up and walked to the doorway, her legs aching from sitting for so long. As she passed through the airlock she reached the open space of the hangar and looked around inside the darkened area. Bishop was out next, quickly followed by the others as they yawned and stretched.

“Well, we’re here,” said Kowalski.

A noise came from the far wall, followed shortly by a metal hatch opening up. A dull yellow light poured in and hurt their eyes for a few seconds as they adjusted to the brightness. Through the light stepped two men, both in civilian clothes. The scrawny man at the front Teresa recognised as Commander Anderson. She straightened up and saluted, the other marines quickly followed.

“Welcome to the Tamarisk,” said the Commander. “Before we get started you need to get rid of that habit. As of from now you are a civilian crew on a civilian ship. Until our mission is completed there will be no saluting, mentioning of rank or following of naval protocol. Understood?”

“Sir!” came the unanimous reply.

Commander Anderson just stood there. He said nothing before turning to the stranger to his right. The man was dressed in civilian clothing and wore a light waistcoat that was marked and scruffy.

“This is Johnson, from Kerberos.”

“You’re the Special Agent Admiral Jarvis spoke of?” asked Teresa.

“Not today, just called me Johnson.”

Teresa nodded, the changed protocol on the ship finally starting to sink in.

“Follow me,” said the Commander as he turned and walked back through the doorway. Johnson followed immediately behind. Teresa looked back at the other four marines who smiled nervously, then turned and went through the doorway and into the ship.

* * *

Lieutenant Daniels was first off the assault shuttle. He turned and shook Spartan’s hand before stepping down to the hangar floor.

“Good work again, Sergeant, we’ll meet for a full debriefing in an hour,” he disappeared along with the scores of other people piling out of the other craft.

Spartan was next off and as his feet hit the cold metal he felt a pang of relief to be back aboard the old ship. Several of the craft had already arrived prior to them with the wounded and urgent passengers, which Spartan noted there were many. He stepped to one side and counted in the men from his platoon as they moved in slowly, there were only nineteen. Roughly half of the unit was dead or wounded. Thankfully he noted that the bruised, but implacable Marcus, strolled out and shook his hand.

“Spartan, thought I’d lost you on the way up,” he said happily.

Several marines were carried past on stretchers before Spartan spoke.

“I spoke to Lieutenant Daniels on the extraction. He said the Santa Cruz is joining the rest of the marine units at Kerberos for reinforcement and medical attention.”

“Kerberos? What about the fight on Prime? We can’t just leave the colony.”

“True, but garrison duty and engineering is the job of the ground pounders. Right now we are in no shape for continued combat operations. Have you seen the casualty reports? By all accounts our units should be pulled out of the line for six months or more.”

Tex and Travis, two of the marines that he had spent some time with on Prime, climbed out and joined the little group. Tex was starting to warm to Spartan, though Travis as usual was still quiet. The day before they had landed on Prime, Spartan had been training with the two of them. Being a new arrival to the commandos he hadn’t fitted in very well. It wasn’t helped by the fact that some thought he’d had a lucky break in the fighting on Kronus, seeing as they all had long and distinguished careers in the Marine Corps prior to selection for their elite unit.

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