Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6) (23 page)

He looked at them and could see a great gulf of a difference between their views on Gun. He knew it should make little difference to him, but he still found it painful.

“Okay, who thinks they’ve got what it takes to bring him down?” he asked, trying to calm the mood. Incredibly, not a single marine lifted their hands.

“Nobody?” he asked in surprise.

“Are you sure these are Alliance marines?” asked Gun, though he was sure he was actually being serious.

The drill instructor walked over to Spartan and leaned in closer.

“Sir, they’ve heard the rumours about the Jötnar.”

Spartan looked to Gun who just shrugged and then back to the Sergeant.

“What rumours?”

“They kill in training and battle. Why do you think they won’t practice?”

Spartan couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

No wonder Gun and his people are getting such a hard time.

“I see, so you are marines that will back down when presented with a fight.
I can’t explain how disappointed this makes me feel. What will happen when you face a Biomech ambush or a full frontal assault? Sure, you can just blast away with your standard issue firearm, but what if it jams, runs out of ammo, or they just happen to smash their way through?”

He walked the entire length of the line of marines to where the crates of training equipment sat. He bent down and lifted the lid to reveal all manner of blunted fighting sticks, knives, bayonets and rubberised rifles and carbines. He looked over to his shoulder to Gun.

“Ko’mandor, what weapon do you prefer for close encounters?” he asked while presenting a variety of simulators.

Gun grinned, knowing full well what was coming next.

“Knives!” he said with a chortle.

Spartan reached in and took out two long training blades, each about a metre in length, and tossed them over to Gun. The Biomech caught them both, one in each hand and twirled them around in a pointless but amusing fashion. Spartan reached in and pulled out an L48 dummy rifle with a rubberised M11 bayonet already moulded into the shape. He then smashed down the lid and walked back into the middle.

“Being as none of you marines will stand for the challenge, I will take it myself.”

The embarrassment and humiliation of the group was complete, but that wasn’t Spartan’s intent. All he wanted to do was to encourage those on the fringes to do something, anything. A woman at the back lifting her hand finally rewarded him.

“Sir, I’ll help you,” she said.

Spartan smiled. “Good, so there is a marine in here after all.”

The instructor laughed at that comment.

The woman moved out from the lines of marines and stood in front of him. He looked up and down at her, examining her poise and physique in detail.

“Your name, marine?” he asked.

“Private Kathy Pezal, Sir!” she barked in reply.

She was tall with short, golden hair and narrow black eyes that gave little away. Like all the marines, she was fit and her body toned in the right places. She reminded him a little of Teresa back when he’d first met her on the way to the Santa Maria.

“You think you can bring him down?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

She looked at Gun who was busy pacing back and forth in the hall. Every few seconds, he would push forward into a mock cut or stab with the weapons. Private Pezal gulped as discretely as she could before looking back to Spartan.

“No, Sir. I will do my best though.”

Spartan smiled at her comment, but his face quickly returned to his default grim expression, one he seemed to have worked on for such encounters.

“I see. So you will stand and fight a monster like him even though you know you will lose? What would help you win?”

She looked about the room and pointed to the others.

“More marines, Sir!”

Spartan nodded and indicated for her to return to the line.

“Excellent, and that is what I wanted to hear. Do you know what the very first lesson was that I received from your own drill instructor here? He told me that I worked alone, and that I wasn’t part of a team. I might have had the body of a warrior, but this drill instructor told me I might look like a marine, but a marine I was not!”

Spartan looked to his old instructor and saw the man was nodding with agreement at his words.

“A marine is a rifleman, and we all know that, but a marine must work with his brothers and sisters. One marine is deadly, but a squad is almost invincible in battle. If you’re fighting a monster like my loyal friend Gun here, you need friends.”

He stepped up to Gun and jabbed with the bayonet fitted to his training rifle. Gun parried it and then stabbed Spartan gently in the chest. Even so, the impact knocked him a little and it took a second to get his breath back.

“Private Kathy Pezal, grab a training rifle and stand here!” he said.

She was fast, and in seconds stood next to him, shoulder to shoulder with their bayoneted rifles.

“Now, if I stab, and Gun responds as before, my fellow marine can then stab him while he is engaged. Like this.”

This time, as Gun’s counterattack came in, Private Pezal’s own bayonet struck Gun in the chest. Spartan turned to the others and placed a hand on the Private’s shoulder.

“This is how we take on Biomechs, the same way we take on any threat. We rely on our friends and use of skill, training and determination to overcome the odds.”

Mutation returned to the forefront of discussion, following tests on the final batch of Jötnar at Prometheus. Many opposed their conception, but the ethical arguments were halted by the final agreement between the Confederacy and the
Jötnar prior to the former’s dissolution.
The introduction of minor changes in the software produced a number of unexpected results before the project was shutdown. Variations in size, shape, sex and intelligence were just some of the reported changes and created new strengths and weaknesses in the race.

Lessons on Mutation

Spartan and a group of marines were busy on the target range when the news arrived. It started with the arrival of a private carrying a rubberised datapad of the type usually carried by Spartan. Before he had finished reading the rest of the message, another group of recruits had already arrived at the door to tell him. Each was acutely aware of the missing ships near Hyperion, and most knew of Sergeant Morato’s disappearance. Private Kathy Pezal entered the target range and saluted to Spartan.

“Sir, we heard the news,” she exclaimed excitedly.

Spartan was only three-quarters through the file but already had run through the critical parts of the report. He tried to read the last bit, but the small group of marines were waiting impatiently. Eventually, he would have to say something. He lowered the device and looked at her.

“Yes, I’ve heard. ANS Minotaur has just sent out an unencoded distress signal about Hyperion.”

“Yes, but have you seen the videocast from Terra Nova? They have footage from the Minotaur in orbit.”

“What?” he replied, surprised.

Spartan cleared his weapon and moved to the range officer who took the weapon and his unused ammunition. Two of the marines spotted him get up and moved to follow him.

“What is it, Sir?” asked the elder of the corporals.

“There’s video of the trouble at Hyperion. I’m going to the CIC. You carry on with your work.”

With that he was gone and out through the door. It took some time to head through the many sections of the vast ship to reach the heart of the vessel. As he walked, he checked the details of the information that was being sent down through the military channels. With one of the reports was a section about enemy jamming and unidentified weapons, but much of the specific information had been redacted. After a few more minutes, he arrived to find most of the senior officers also there to see the Captain. He waited briefly while the marine guards checked those at the door before he could enter the CIC. The security was much more stringent than normal, and he noted one of the lieutenants was even turned away.

“Captain Spartan, here to see the Major,” he explained to the sergeant. They both knew each other well, but even so the man checked on his internal communications gear before waving him through. He entered the large room to the sight of Major Daniels, Captain Schaffer, and his executive officer Commander Malone. But what caught his eye was the series of still images of what appeared to be a large battle. Major Daniels spotted his entry and turned from the two naval officers.

“Captain, I was about to call you to join us. I take it you’ve heard the news?”

“Yes, Sir, the ANS Minotaur has just made contact, something about an attack at Hyperion and some unusual weapons. The news reports are pretty vague, and the military feeds are not much better.”

“That’s about it, publically. Come and look at this.”

Major Daniels beckoned him closer to view the images on the main screen. It was currently frozen on a still of a bright flash, but with a quick nod one of the tech officers moved the feed back to the start. The video was quite shaky and appeared to be from one of the external feeds. It showed the circular shape of a planet.

“That’s Hyperion, by the way,” explained Captain Schaffer.

Spartan nodded, keeping his attention on the video. The shapes of four other ships were clear to the right, especially the great bulk of the Marine Transport, ANS Santa Maria the sister ship of ANS Santa Cruz. The depth of field changed drastically and distorted the video.

“What’s happening?” he asked.

“It’s the acceleration. The cruiser is pulling away from the planet, and the camera is trying to maintain the image using optical zooming. It is only enough for fifty-three seconds, and then the camera is at its limit. Watch for the forty-two second mark.”

Spartan looked back at the video and kept an eye on the time-code at the bottom left. Although it was running in real-time, the feed seemed to slow down as it reached the mentioned time. Spartan squinted at the distorted shapes of the ships. They jumped and twisted, and then he spotted. The bright colour orbs of light that were rushing up to the taskforce like shells from ground based cannon. The last few seconds showed very little as the ships shrunk to blurred dots along with weapons. He looked back to the Captain.

“I don’t understand, what was that?” he asked with a confused look.

The Captain pressed a button and changed the view to that of a video stream sent directly from the Captain of ANS Minotaur. The Captain looked shaken, and the crease lines on her face easily betraying the pressure and responsibility she must have felt for leaving the other ships behind.

“This is Captain Lewis of the ANS Minotaur. We have just escaped heavy ground fire from Hyperion and are requesting all and any Alliance help. Hostile forces are blockading the planet, and they have erected a wide area signal block. ANS Thunderer has been destroyed with the loss of all crew, and the status of the rest of the Hyperion Taskforce in unknown.”

Spartan felt nausea building up at the thought of what had happened to the ships. He’d assumed there had been trouble but nothing the marines and ships couldn’t handle. According to this new information, there was a good chance the ships could be damaged or even destroyed. Major Daniels spoke before he could ask any questions.

“So we know one cruiser is down and one escaped, that leaves two more and the Santa Maria unaccounted for. Did Captain Lewis have any more information on what happened?”

The XO shook his head, speaking on behalf of the Captain who had turned to look at the starcharts.

“No, the Minotaur is still suffering periodic power losses. The last message she sent contained her full log prior to their escape. Seems they were disabled by something from the planet, and there is some kind of base and compound on the surface.”

Major Daniels turned back to Spartan.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I’m working on it. Good news is the reconnaissance drones should be there vey soon, so I expect we’ll be getting our marching orders soon.”

Captain
Schaffer
nodded in agreement.

“Yes, and the rest of the fleet are not far away either. The destroyer group from the Anomaly arrived two hours ago and have already adopted an escort posture around us. Both Assault Cruisers are due to arrive in ten or eleven hours. It’s a good-sized force by any measure. I’ve contact from Admiral Churchill, and he is already en route with three more ships from Terra Nova, including a ship I’m not familiar with. The Tamarisk I think he called it.”