Tears of Kerberos (26 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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“Private Morato, we’ve got incoming, two security groups moving in on your position. I recommend you get into the main aisle and make your way slowly to the ship.”

“Sir, the UAVs are not in place yet. If we leave we will not be able to send them new commands.”

“They have their location data, let’s just hope it’s the right place. That isn’t a suggestion, Morato, it’s an order, now get your people out!”

“Yes, Commander.”

He then looked back at the schematic, noting that the security teams went directly past Teresa and her group and towards one of the bars. It looked like it must have been a false alarm, or perhaps there was some unrelated incident. He looked back at the other four feeds and noted the first aerial vehicle was making its way through a narrow tunnel and to the air filter near the old club. On the video stream he could make out the grating in front of the robot but nothing the other side. With the poor light it was hard to tell if that was down to dirt or it was simply empty. He turned to the second robot and was surprised to see a clear view into a large room packed with dozens of people.

“Holy shit, are you getting this?” shouted the Commander.

“Already recording the data, Sir. Look, do you recognise Colonel Tyrol of the Agora Militia?”

“The bastard, he must be working with them!”

They were stood in a loose group around a central figure who wore thick robes that covered his entire body, leaving just a hint of his beard showing. The rest of the room was dark but the movement of shadows suggested there were more people along the perimeter.

“We are at a critical stage in the operation. Send a team and secure the ship, we’ll take the data and dispose of her crew,” said one man.

“I agree, it is too risky to involve anybody else, bring Antonius to us, we will have to explain to him why we do not allow strangers within our midst,” spoke another.

The man in the middle of the room lifted up his hands, indicating he wanted them all to be quiet.

“As you know, the struggle on Prime has expended our first wave of soldiers. More are being converted at our sites throughout the sector but we must have more time. With Kerberos out of the picture we can pick off each of the Confederate Colonies one at a time. In less than a month there will be enough converts to unleash against any single colony with a guarantee of victory.”

A cheer echoed through the chamber, the volume forced the robot to reduce the recording level to avoid excessive noise.

“Now, our plan is already in motion, in the next hour you will see a demonstration of the Church’s power and with it the dawn of the Union.”

Commander Anderson pressed a few buttons to zoom the video feed in so he could get a better view of the meeting. As he moved in he noticed something familiar about the man in the robe. He moved in closer and took a still image from the feed, connecting it to the vessel’s copy of the security database. It quickly found a match.

“Holy shit, that’s the Bishop of Yama! I thought he was on Kerberos for the protests.”

“Are you sure it’s him?” asked Special Agent Johnson, who looked again. “It is him, but that’s a holographic display, see it’s flickering. He’s not actually on the station!”

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 vessels 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.

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