Read Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6) Online

Authors: Michael G. Thomas

Tags: #Technological Fiction

Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6) (6 page)

BOOK: Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)
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He tapped the screen and zoomed in on the green planet.

“High Command suspect the Zealots may have been operating from a hidden base on some of the uninhabited worlds here. It’s been low priority with the peace keeping operations most of our ground troops are now involved with.”

He paused and waited for the three to speak. Spartan looked a little confused before realising the Major wanted their opinions. He cleared his throat before starting.

“Well, Sir, this entire sector was infiltrated far deeper than Proxima ever was. They could have been running the entire operation from Terra Nova itself from the start.”

The Major looked unconvinced by his reply.

“It is possible, of course, but how were they able to come almost from nowhere in this sector? We have never understood how the Zealots became so powerful and so quickly. It is as if they were elsewhere for months, perhaps years before. Maybe there is something out there we’ve not discovered yet? A missing link, as you will.”

Teresa lifted her head slightly, implying she had something to add. The Major nodded towards her.

“We know where the Zealots were. They’ve been underground for a long time. We’ve seen how these movements form and expand. The power behind them, the reason why we lost so early on, was that they had access to massive numbers of Biomechs and ships.”

Major Daniels nodded in agreement. “Like on Prometheus?”

“Exactly, Sir. That complex was kept hidden for years, and they had the capacity to create multiple generations of biomechanicals for the war effort. One other site could easily have done the same in Alpha Centauri. Unless they just transported them through the Anomaly.”

He switched the device off and sat down.

“Anyway, this is all conjecture. I have discussed this at depth with High Command, and they have already decided that our sister ship, the Santa Maria, is being fitted out for a special mission to conduct a systematic sweep of every moon around the inner worlds, including Hyperion. They will be taking an escort, as well as enough troops and supplies to eliminate enemy ground forces, if and when they are located. The new government is being pushed to hunt down anybody associated with this recent outrage, and it looks like it will coincide with a major hunt in this sector. The operation could take months, and that’s why I called you three in.”

Spartan knew what was coming, and he wasn’t surprised.

“Lieutenant, they have everything they need, but they do have a need for a replacement reconnaissance troop.”

Spartan was about to speak, but the Major lifted his hand.

“No, before you say anything, it will not be you. This mission is important, but the rebuilding of the Alliance military is even more important. There is talk of shrinking the size of the fleet and relying more on local troops for combat operations. You have more experience than most of the senior command there, especially when it comes to operations against the Zealots and the Biomechs. I’ve a list of seven people already that want to speak with you about the fighting on Terra Nova itself.”

Spartan shook his head angrily.

“But, Sir, this is admin and politics, and you know what I’m like at both. My reports are already on file. They know what I think, and they know the problems we suffered with local forces and commanders. Surely my expertise is better needed on the Santa Maria mission.”

Major Daniels stood up, indicating the discussion was coming to an end.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant. My hands are tied. Your knowledge and experience is required at Terra Nova. You will select the best reconnaissance team available, and it is my recommendation that Sergeant Morato is considered to lead it. I will, of course, leave the decision to you.”

He stood smartly to attention, and the three stood to face him. Spartan saluted and turned for the door. Major Daniels was already at his computer model of the system before they even left the room. Spartan nodded to the guards as he stepped out into the corridor and looked back at Lovett and Teresa.

Dammit, so I stay for meetings and discussions on Terra Nova while my two best NCOs get to finish off the enemy once and for all?

CHAPTER THREE
 

The fall of Terra Nova marked a major shift in the path of the Zealots and their devotion to the Church of Echidna. With the Core destroyed and the Union torn apart, many returned home. Most were bitter and many blamed the new Alliance for their troubles. The first decades after the Uprising saw many feuds and reprisals occur throughout the old Confederacy. It was a hard and violent time but if it were not for the events at Hyperion the old troubles could easily have reignited.

 

Origins of the Zealots

 

Spartan looked out of the observation window and towards the shape of the planet below. The rotating of this part of the ship meant he had but a small period of time to watch before the planet moved from view. Those not used to it could become sick and disorientated but not him. Spartan had served on multiple ships with artificial gravity, and although they all left him with a sick feeling in his stomach, nothing caused as much pain as that blue green orb below.

Terra Nova, I never planned on coming back.

He thought back to his last visit and the violence of their landing. It had been the final act of the War, and a terrible full frontal assault on the planet itself. So many had died on both sides. Even the Jötnar, his implacable allies, had lost scores of warriors in that last, desperate rush to end the War. It reminded him of his Biomech friends, the Jötnar who had sided with the Confederacy and proven to be some of the most stubborn and trustworthy warriors they had access to. He had not seen them in months and was actually starting to miss his friends.

Still, I’ll get to meet Khan on Terra Nova. That should be interesting.

He smiled inwardly at the thought of the outspoken Jötnar warrior on the planet. He was even less politic than Ko’mandor Gun, their enigmatic leader and could be guaranteed to cause a scene. That was something Spartan was quite looking forward to seeing.

“The next shuttle to the conference will leave in seventeen minutes. Please make your way to the landing bay,” said a calm voice over the ship’s speaker system.

Spartan glanced once more at the shape of Terra Nova as it whisked by and then walked away towards what many of them affectionately called the spiral. The people were waiting patiently as the rotating part of the ship moved along the central core. A number of long metal ladders ran the width of the section and appeared to move slowly around the core. A crewmember grabbed the metal and lifted himself up. He looked up and followed two more as they moved towards the rotating central core. Of course, in reality, the spokes and the rotating section were actually moving around the motionless central spindle. As they moved closer to the top, the spinning section appeared to slow down. It was all an illusion, however, as this part of the ship rotated at a complete three revolutions per minute. It was enough to create the same level of gravity as experienced back on Earth but was only used on the main habitation parts of the ship.

“Sir, good luck with the conference,” said the burly sergeant waiting to help those climbing onto the spiral wheel.

Spartan pulled up a few rungs before looking back.

“Thanks, I can’t wait.”

He continued to move along the ladder and quickly noticed the change in gravity. Each rung made him feel lighter as he moved towards the central core. He’d seen many a marine feel sickness at this point, and vomiting in low or near zero gravity was a sight he would have happily forgotten. A few more seconds, and he reached the central section. He pulled himself onto the platform and waited for a moment as he relished the feeling of weightlessness. The spokes extended out around him to the rim of the rotating section. He turned back to the cylindrical section and pulled himself along the tube-shaped structure. It didn’t take long for him to move through to the next part of the ship where the transport hangars were located. A young sergeant signalled to him from one of the larger craft.

“Sir, this is yours.”

Spartan nodded and continued to pull himself towards the vessel. It was a slow and complex procedure to transfer from the rotating section to the stationary parts of the ship, and usually only carried out when absolutely necessary. During combat operations, marines would often be stationed in the annex quarters, a number of zero-gee rooms in the next compartment over from the landing bay. It allowed them to transfer to landing craft and transports in seconds rather than minutes. He pulled himself inside the vessel and towards a seat near the port side window. Like the other dozen people already inside, he quickly fitted his harness. The last thing anybody wanted was somebody floating about when they hit the atmosphere and the gravitational pull of Terra Nova.

“Departure in four minutes, please check your harnesses and stow any loose items,” came the automated voice that he’d heard so many times in the past.

Spartan didn’t need to check. He’d done this so many times already. What he didn’t like was the dress uniform he’d been forced to wear. Though most of the depleted Marine Corps units were now disbanded or amalgamated, they had yet to receive any kind of new dress uniform. Even Spartan’s Vanguard unit had been unable to survive in anything like its original form. After substantial equipment losses and casualties, the survivors were now being used to train recruits on Prime and Terra Nova in order to raise more recruits for the elite unit. With major combat operations now over, most of the heavy exo-armour had been returned to the military stores for maintenance with just a handful retained on each of the Marine Transports. He’d been told that the unit was to be reformed with more manpower and equipment, but for now the unit had been placed as inactive, pending rebuilding. Since the formation of the ASOG units he’d been out of touch though.

Would rather be with them right now,
he thought.

He had been forced to use his Marine Corps dress uniform until something more appropriate was designed for the ASOGs, assuming the unit didn’t change again after the Defence Committee had finished making their decisions. Apparently, this was all part of the peace dividend.

Cuts more like.

The door shut and Spartan was now stuck on the transport. He looked about and noted the points of escape as well as the emergency gear and weapon cabinets. Each of the transports had subtle differences, and like any man with experience in the military, he wanted to be sure of his surroundings in case of an emergency.

He thought wryly.
How many times have I landed in one of these things, and there hasn’t been a problem?

* * *

The area selected as the VIP landing zone made Spartan feel uneasy. It was the exact same place he and his comrades had landed during the fighting, and he was finding it hard to suppress the feelings he had felt when landing under fire the last time. Back then the world had seemed alien, foreign, and almost exotic. Now the place was nothing more than a lavish reminder of the losses they had suffered. His transports circled the Palace as though they were looking for a sniper or some other miscreant before it dropped down and fired its landing rockets. From his view through the window, he could see the long colonnade surrounded by waterworks and crowds of people. His eye was drawn to follow the path up to the main building itself. Upon seeing the front, he almost choked.

The Palace was one of the most famous monuments in the old Confederacy. A mark of lavish expenditure that stood Terra Nova out as being different to any other part of the Confederacy, even Prime. Larger than anything ever seen on Earth, it had been the seat of the Confederacy for the last three hundred and forty years and included the Council Chambers, as well as multiple barracks for the city-based armed forces. As his transport settled onto the ground, he noted the ceremonial guards, the infamous Terra Nova Guards Brigade. He was aware of their long lineage back to when they had still been the City Militia Battalion. Apparently, Biomechs massacred most of their six thousand troops in the months before Spartan and his forces had arrived. He wondered if these were survivors, or if they were all new recruits to a reformed unit.

Looks like I’ll find out soon enough.

The side doors hissed open, and four of the soldiers positioned themselves as an honour guard. Spartan stepped out first and took the salute of the first man. He watched him carefully; curious to establish what exactly had happened in the last months with the unit. The soldier in front of him wore the ancient uniform with scarlet tunic and a curiously antiquated glaive in one hand. Tucked neatly on his side was one of the newest L52a light carbines. Spartan had only seen one so far, and a pang of envy washed over him as he realised the static defence force on Terra Nova was receiving equipment before his own forces, even though his were in action almost weekly. He thought about asking a question, but his gaze was drawn to a slightly overweight officer walking towards him. The man’s epaulets brought him quickly to attention, and he raised his hand quickly to a smart salute.

BOOK: Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)
3.67Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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