Legions of Orion (Star Crusades Nexus, Book 1) (4 page)

That’s
the place
,
he thought, glancing back to the two marines.

They were still busy
looking at the station.
He took a deep
breath, lurched across the space, and pushed open the door. Without
thinking, he stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him.
Inside were two women playing cards. They wore engineer’s overalls,
and a series of displays ran along one side of the small room. He
pointed the gun at them both, lifting his hand to his mouth for
silence. The first, a middle-aged woman with short dark hair, fell
from her chair in surprise. But the second, a much younger woman,
just stared right back.

“You ready?” he asked.

The young woman
nodded and then pulled a short, slightly curved blade from her
waistband. She stood up and walked to her fallen friend, extending
her free hand out to help her. As the fallen women reached up to
hold her hand, the blade flashed across, slashing open her throat.
Blood gushed from the deep wound, and she slipped to the floor,
leaving an ever-growing pool of blood behind her. Jenson could
almost make out the tattoo on her right arm, just above the wrist,
of the Confederate Navy, the precursor to the Alliance. He smiled
at the thought of what they were doing.

“
I have full access
to the habitation and rotation controls. That’s all we can do from
here. Will that be enough?”

Jenson nodded in satisfaction.

“
That is enough.
With this access, I will be able to carry out my tasks. Finally, we
can ensure our brothers will not have died on Hyperion in
vain.”

He started to
shudder;
the memories and terror of what
he had seen on that planet so many years ago was still fresh in his
mind. The machines, the monsters; it was too much for him. The
image of the dark, monstrous machine as it emerged from a glowing
orb returned to his mind. It was an image that returned to him
every time he closed his eyes. The metal followers ran about like
beetles, each of them hacking and stabbing at friend and foe alike.
It came to him so often now, he could no longer tell what was
memory and what was imagined. The entire scene was like an image
from hell where the tortured bodies of the defenceless were
shredded before his eyes. He shook his head, but the image refused
to leave him.

“
I..uh, I must...”
he started and then almost fell back. The young woman stepped
closer and placed a hand on his forearm. She felt warm and soft to
the touch, snapping him out of his trance and back to the
present.

“
Jenson, it’s
alright. We’ll never come into contact with them again, I promise
you! Pontus and his brothers can stay buried, and we’ll make sure
it stays that way.”

* * *

Governor Anderson, the grey-haired
veteran of countless wars and campaigns, watched from the busy
control room as the power systems were fired up for the test.
They’d been used a dozen times already, but this was the first time
they would power the experimental rift-generator, the first one to
ever be created for one-way travel. Ever since he’d taken command
of the Alliance research base on Prometheus, he’d been involved
with the unusual and the bizarre, from synthetic production of the
war winning Biomechs to the dozens of new ships now plying the
trade routes of the expanded Alliance. This was his second decade
in charge of the facility, yet he still managed to maintain his
slender frame. His still lightly freckled face and greying, unkempt
hair, smartly trimmed sideburns and small moustache, betrayed his
years of experience as a military governor and the
second-in-command of a capital ship, now a senior Admiral in the
Alliance military.

Captain Dirk
Konicek, commander of his Marine Guards
,
approached and saluted smartly. He was a barrel-chested officer
with coal black hair and a scarred complexion from a number of
years working on some of the toughest environments in the
Alliance.

“
Admiral, the
civilians are aboard and have asked permission to enter the control
room.”

“
Sir, the plants are
reporting maximum efficiency, computer systems are active, and the
rift-generator is ready for your signal,” said the Chief Engineer
on the programme.

Anderson nodded and
then looked about the room, and at the dozens of faces looking back
to him. At least half had only joined the project in the last three
years, but they had made massive progress. He thought back to the
construction of the first rift-generators that had been built with
pride by his team. In just seventeen years, the Alliance had made
massive strides in science, technology and exploration. The
ever-present Alliance Marines were stationed discreetly at the
entrances, though few expected trouble. The Prometheus research
facility was now one of the most heavily guarded and improved sites
in the entire Alliance.

So, it is time.

“
Very well, bring
them in,” h
e said sternly.

One of the marines
nodded and opened one of the small doors. In walked a small group
of the press, including representatives from both Prime and Terra
Nova, the two largest and most important planets in the Alliance.
Their camera crews moved into position, each closely monitored by
the marines. Admiral Anderson was no great fan of the press, but
even he knew the importance of such an event in the history of the
facility, the Alliance and humanity itself. He looked at the first
anchorwoman, a young woman probably in her early thirties. She wore
a stylish grey suit, and he was certain she was the head
anchorwoman for one of the Terra Nova networks. She nodded
fervently and pointed at the camera to her right, indicating they
were also ready. The Admiral took a deep breath and
smiled.

“
Citizens of the
Alliance, t
oday is an auspicious day for
all of us. In the seventeen years since the end of our terrible
hardship in the War, we have come a long way. The network now
exists between the major colonies, and trade and prosperity has
returned to the long-suffering parts of our fledgling Alliance.
This construction is the culmination of seven long years of work
and the first stage in our exploration of the stars. Hundreds of
years ago our ancestors launched colony ships on a generation’s
long journey to Alpha Centauri, now our home. With this first
exploratory Rift, we reach out and continue our
journey.”

He turned
fro
m the camera and nodded to his Chief
Engineer. The man moved several icons on his three-dimensional
display and activated a start-up sequence.

“
Generators at full
power, Admiral.”

A short distance
away, another dozen engineers manned their own stations. Each
called out and confirmed the status of their own equipment,
including the cooling and backup systems.

“Cooling...check.”

“Computer tracking...check.”

“Security lock down protocol now
active.”

The Chief engineer looked back to the
Admiral.

“All system are go, Sir.”

Admiral Anderson
paused
just for a second before he gave
the order. The tests in the past had all been successful, but never
before had a rift been targeted at an unknown location. The
problems and potential dangers of creating a spacebridge with no
end location for connection had been considered a deadly risk. It
was only with the data recovered from the ruins on Hyperion seven
years earlier had it been considered even a possibility.

“
Activate the
R
ift,” he said as calmly as
possible.

The Chief Engineer
returned to his system and entered his personal security clearance
and override to start the system. As with most pieces of advanced
technology, the actual final trigger was understated. No more than
a simple activate button on his display. He reached out to touch it
and could almost feel the eyes of billions burning into the back of
his head as he pressed the button. His fingertip touched the unit,
and around the room the screens changed colour, as the diagnostic
tools monitored the power and signal levels through the
unit.

“Open them!” called out Admiral
Anderson.

On cue, the entire
right-hand side of the large control room lit up as thick metal
shutters lowered down. Behind them was photoelectric glass, a
substance able to instantly respond to adverse lighting condition
in case of solar flares or other such problems. It only now became
apparent that they were all situated aboard the old Prometheus
Seven Trading Post. At almost two thousand meters in diameter, the
station now housed almost a thousand of the best technicians,
engineers and scientists. Well over a decade ago, it had been home
of trade and commerce in the sector. Little of that now remained
with its new role of custodian of the Prometheus Rift. The view
from the windows consisted first of the burning hot world of
Prometheus, of which they orbited. Even more technicians and
scientists were based there, but it was the orbiting station that
was responsible for managing and maintaining the vast construction
that floated in space next to it. Admiral Anderson pointed to the
components.

“
As you can see, the
Prometheus Rift is complete and ready for its final test. We built
this rift to allow exploration of new star systems that are vast
distances away. In the past, we have used the peak of our
technology to travel distances of up to four light years. In the
case of here, it took over a generation for the fastest and
best-equipped colony ships to get here from Earth. This time we
plan on sending a ship over a thousand light years to the Orion
Nebula.”

Unlike the orbs
constructed on the colonies, the rift equipment consisted of a
dozen small orbital platforms, each of which was self-contained and
connected via an array of thin cables to the station
itself.

“
As you may know,
the power requirements to operate such a piece of technology are at
the limit of our understanding. Over eighty percent of this entire
station’s power capacity will be used to run each of the platforms
until the cycle is complete.”

Even as they watched
the group of platforms, each looking much like an improvised space
station, they flickered and flashed as energy rippled across their
structures. The clouds of dust and gas around Prometheus gave the
streaks of energy odd hues and shades of colour as they glinted off
the dust and particles in space. At first, it was just the
occasional flash until a web of flashes and lines jumped back and
forth. Admiral Anderson looked over his Chief Engineer’s shoulder
to check his screen. The man looked back at him.

“
All systems normal,
Sir. The grid is holding. Capacitors are charging, thirty
seconds...”

Anderson nodded, and
although he gave the look of calm professionalism, he could feel
the beads of sweat on his forehead. It wasn’t just the money and
resources that had been spent. It was the hopes and dreams of so
many that had got them so far. The possibility of long-distance
travel and exploration was one of the great dreams of so many in
the Alliance. The opportunities and possibilities this technology
had created had thousands of companies, and hundreds of thousands
of people, waiting for the chance to make their names in the great
unknown. He knew a lot was riding on this mission. He wondered how
excited they would be if they realised where the exact coordinates
in Orion had come from. He tried to shake that out of his
head.

Hyperion
is something for another
day;
right now we create the doorway.

The Chief Engineer nodded towards
him.

“Sir, capacitors are fully
charged.”

Here we go.

“Activate the bridge!” he said
smartly.

The last stage of
the process was the actual creation of the Rift itself. Anderson
had witnessed the activation of many rifts before, but without a
rift to connect to, there was a degree of uncertainty. Either way,
it didn’t matter now as the process was already firing up. The grid
flashed with power, and the space between the platforms flickered
one last time and then changed to a purple-blue glowing disc. He
watched and waited as the disc settled down until it faded out to
an almost transparent shape. He took in a deep breath, half
expecting the fields to collapse. Instead, each of the technicians
and engineers gave him an affirmative.

“
Yes!” came a voice
from one of the systems, and he was quickly joined by dozens of
other technicians and engineers. Back in the middle of the room, a
large three-dimensional projected model showed the shape of the
rift entrance being created. Energy circles surrounded the
platforms and ran in a stream back to the station in a continuous
loop. One by one, each of the platforms changed colour and flashed
green on the model. The indication was clear and obvious to each of
those watching that the system was working and settling
down.

“Get me Commodore Lewis.”

The image of the
Commodore appeared in seconds and filled the large screen on the
wall. The man was a seasoned officer and had been present at the
last major action at Hyperion seventeen years earlier. He was now
in charge of the defensive portion of the operation and commanded
an impressive force of seven major warships, including the recently
commissioned ANS Dragon. She was one of the newest of the Crusader
class warships and the peak of Alliance technology. Her powerplants
were heavily shielded and provided power to a battery of
super-heavy railguns that were fitted in targetable mounts on the
bow and stern. Dozens of smaller mounts were fitted out with
multi-barrelled coilguns, all of them run by the advanced power
system. She had the rough shape of a shark with a fattened forward
section and an enlarged tail section. Many struts and antennae
extended out, but it was the total lack of a rotating crew section
that was the most revolutionary part of the vessel. No other
military ship, until now, had been able to create such a force
without the use of primitive rotating sections.