Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6) (28 page)

“What?” Teresa exclaimed.

They kept low and watched as the figure emerged from the rubble and did his best to scale one of the smaller walls. Off in the distance, two Zealots shouted and pointed in the escapee’s direction. One lifted a weapon and fire ineffectually at the man.
Corporal Nylund
lifted his
L52 Mark II
carbine, but Teresa placed her hand on the barrel and shook her head.

“No, we can’t give away out position.”

“But Sarge!” exclaimed Private Hughes, the youngest of the squad.

More shots hit near the crewman, and a couple even struck close to the marines. Teresa almost laughed at the ineffective shooting, but the movement of the machines near the dome instantly killed her mood. Only two stepped away and faced their direction. For a second, she had a dreadful feeling they might detect the marines. She pulled herself lower to the ground, and the other three did the same. The same high-pitched scream as before blasted across the open space, but this time the filters of her helmet managed to reduce it to a painful but manageable level. The energy blast from the machines pintle mounted weapon was much like the coil system used by her carbine, but it seemed vastly more powerful. With a loud thud, a great column of dust and debris blasted into the air.

“Stay down!” she called out on the suit’s intercom unit. It was short ranged but could easily manage about a hundred metres with line of sight before the ground-based jammers could have much of an effect. Teresa kept her head to the ground, but even with her acoustic dampers on maximum, she could hear and feel the approach of one of the machines. Her head told her to move and to get far away, but she knew that any movement and they were dead. Then just as soon as it had started, the machine moved away. She lifted her head just a few centimetres, so she could see to top of the machine as it stomped away and rejoined its comrades near the dome.

“We’re clear.”

The four-man unit resumed their positions and checked for signs of the enemy. The column of dust continued upwards, but nothing remained of the unfortunate crewman that had tried to escape from whatever was taking place at the site. A few of the Zealots seemed to take the escape attempt as an opportunity to attack more of the prisoners, but luckily none were actually hurt in any serious way. Teresa checked the horizon, but it looked as clear as it was ever likely to be.

“Come on, I don’t want to stay here any longer than we have to,” she said.

The small group moved out from the tree line and down into the remains of whatever had been built in the past. As they moved through the outskirts of the first buildings, it was clear that a number of the structures were actually parts of an old temple. In the centre was a square based pyramid with many steps leading to the top. They weaved around it, continuing onwards to the ruined base of a circular structure. There was nothing but mud and broken rock in the middle, but along the inner wall of the building were the carved shapes of buildings, people and machines.

“Sergeant, what’s this?” asked
Corporal Alessandro
.

She stopped but only for a few seconds.

“No idea. Record everything you can see and then join us.”

 
She continued forward with
Corporal Nylund
and took up position along the final section of ruins that faced the dome while the other two stayed back to record as much of the markings, images and information as they could in the limited time they had. Once in cover, the Corporal removed a monitoring package from his pack on his back and placed it on the ground. While he configured the unit, Teresa placed dust and small rocks around it to camouflage it from a cursory glance.

With the end of the War that had torn the old Confederacy apart came a new attitude to the military. Gone were the distinctions between Army, Marines and Navy and instead all were combined into a smaller but more professional elite arm. With this change came a requirement for more flexible ships, ones that could operate fighters and landing craft just as often as they carried marines and their heavy equipment. The old days of ships of the line and separate transports, died with birth of the Alliance.

Naval Cadet’s Handbook

The arrival of Sergeant Morato’s ASOG team caught almost every one by surprise. General Rivers had assumed the worst and mobilised everybody available, including the Navy crewmen, to defend the compound against the expected attack. When they had emerged on the river, moving slowly on an improvised raft, they’d almost been shot to ribbons. Only the quick thinking of Captain Carlos had averted possible disaster. Sergeant Morato walked into the camp with the seven troopers to cheers from those inside. General Rivers was already out of his shelter and waiting near the marine fireteam as she moved inside.

“Sergeant, I see the rumours of your demise were much exaggerated.”

Teresa saluted, though it was slower and more ragged than usual.

“Sir, it’s good to be back.”

“We were expecting contact from your team nearly two days ago. Can I assume you found something?”

Teresa grinned through the open visor of her helmet.
Her armour was filthy and not one part of it seemed to be the same colour. Mud slid down her legs, and thick scratches ran from her ankles to her armpits. The others looked no better. It was as if they had been dredging the river for the last week.

“You could say that, General.”

She turned to her unit and nodded to Corporal Nylund.

“Get the recording gear into the field command post.” She looked back to General Rivers. “This is pretty big, Sir. I think you’ll want all the officers to see this.”

“Is it something we can use?” he asked optimistically.

“It’s more than that, Sir. I think it might be the key to this planet and possibly the entire War.”

At that last point his eyebrows lifted in interest.

* * *

The first view of Hyperion sent a shudder up Spartan’s spine as he watched from the bridge of ANS Tamarisk. Spartan hadn’t spent much time on the ship before. In fact, the last time he’d seen the craft had been when it was salvaged following the rescue at Prometheus. There were few reminders of that bloody struggle, and to all intents and purposes, she seemed to have been improved in almost every way. The rest of the Taskforce had already made rendezvous with ANS Minotaur and were keeping at least ten hours away from the planet to avoid weapon fire or equipment jamming. Spartan pulled himself away from the bridge and out through to hatch that led to the small CIC. Inside waited the small team he had selected specifically for the mission.

I hope to God I’ve chosen the right people.

He’d assembled an odd mixture of forces, including marines, Vanguards, soldiers and Jötnar. From the limited information they had discovered, he knew he had several basic tasks to perform. He had the best marines and scouts in the Taskforce to help locate the enemy dispositions and resources; and a mixture of Vanguards and
Jötnar to provide combat muscle. What worried him was that they might simply be unable to disable the weapon systems before they were overwhelmed. It would take up to six hours for the Taskforce to be able to move into position and start landing the rest of the ground troops. He moved into the middle of the CIC and glanced at the status monitors.

“Captain, all systems are fully operational. Passive jammers are on, and our weapon systems are primed and ready,” said
Sergeant Kowalski.

Spartan looked at the small crew with confidence. Most of them had been at the summit on Terra Nova, but a few he had only met prior to their introductions in the Taskforce. Kowalski was a highly experienced marine and a computer tech expert with a somewhat shady past. As well as having served on Tamarisk at Prometheus, he was also one of the top specialists on the Prometheus colony under Commander Anderson. Sat next to him, and monitoring the remote feeds, was the gruff Agent Johnson from the Kerberos Intelligence Unit. His experience had been in working with the Kerberos Underground during the War. Spartan knew his knowledge and experience of fighting unconventional operations would be critical in the fight. His only real experience with most of this team was with the Jötnar and a handful of the Vanguards. Khan watched over them both with a look of bemused interest and boredom. It was an odd mix, but Spartan was very familiar with the attitudes of his Jötnar friends.

“How is the assault team?” he asked.

Khan nodded slowly.

“Not bad. Could do with a few more, twenty-four isn’t much for a ground assault.”

“We don’t need to win this thing. We just need to disable their systems, so we can bring in the large ships to coordinate a full-scale operation.”

Khan tilted his head slightly.

“Perhaps, but we don’t have much to go on yet, do we?”

Spartan couldn’t disagree with that. All they knew was that ships had been crippled or destroyed, and that large numbers of pods and lifeboats had made their way to the surface. Deep down, Spartan worried that the entire planet could be teeming with Union soldiers or Biomechs. What if it was another of the horrific plants like the one he had seen on Prometheus?

“Uh, you’re gonna want to see this,” said Kowalski in a tone that bordered on excitement.

Spartan leaned in to look at his screen. It showed a topographical map of the surface. Most of the land mass was rocky, and there were several mountain ranges. The quality of the imagery was poor, probably due to the thick atmosphere and frequent mist at low level. The most obvious thing was the amount of trees. The bulk of the planet looked like a giant forest.

“I don’t see it, just lots of trees, so?”

Kowalski pointed to three points on the display.

“There, three,” he explained to Spartan, but the icons and data told him nothing of much use.

Kowalski shook his head, once more annoyed that he was going to have to explain the obvious. It was both a gift and a curse that he was forced to endure. At least that was how he rationalised it to himself.

“Well, it seems that so far we have approached without being detected. Our passive system gives off little to no detectable signature, and our radar systems are off. Unless they happen to be looking right here, they will not find us.”

Spartan nodded but still looked confused.

“Yes, I read the tech notes on her. An impressive ship, no doubt.”

He then pointed to the screen.

“But what about those points?” he added.

“Oh...right,” replied Kowalski sheepishly. “Well, first of all, I am picking up massive, and I mean massive, energy levels in this mountainous region. The really weird thing is that the power build-up matches the exact same signature of the Anomaly.”

Spartan leaned back at the news.

“What does that mean?”

Kowalski shook his head.

“Uh...no idea, but it is interesting. The other thing is these points.”

He tapped three more locations; one of which was quite close to the mountainous region.

“Each of these areas is transmitting a very weak Alliance distress pulse. They are coded to the new frequencies and are shifting based on the new algorithms. I suspect that’s the only reason they haven’t been detected yet.

“Alliance? From the lifeboats?”

Kowalski nodded.

“Yes, Sir. Even more interesting though, is the site closest to the mountains. It has the strongest signal and is positioned near this river. I can’t look any closer. We’d need satellite coverage at lower altitude and with advanced optics. The mists and weather conditions down there are cutting visibility down to just a few kilometres.”

“Okay, so we have a few lifeboats. What’s so special about that one?” asked Spartan, still no closer to understanding the point Kowalski was trying to make.

At that last comment, Kowalski grinned so widely his teeth almost seemed to gleam at him.

“It’s a full tactical assessment of the area, along with identity codes for a number of NCOs and officers. Looks like the General is there with Captain Carlos, and at least a dozen more people of note.”

Spartan was about to speak, but Kowalski knew exactly what he was going to say.

“Yes, one of those on the list is Sergeant Morato.”

The mention of her name gave him renewed hope. Although the senior officers kept trying to tell him how likely it was that they would have survived, he knew from experience that ships attacked or destroyed in orbit had a poor chance at performing a full evacuation before breaking up. The mere possibility that Teresa was there sent a jolt through his body. Nothing could have motivated him more.