Gamma Nine (Book One) (34 page)

“How long until
we get there Willis?” Locke asked.

“Three days,
more or less,” Gray replied, his voice already melding with the
mechanical voice of the Hyperion’s OS.

“Drives ready!”
an officer seated to the left of Gray’s command chair yelled out.
“All systems ready captain. On your mark, sir”

“All hands,
brace for jump,” Gray said, his voice transmitted to everyone on
board the Hyperion. “Hold on to your nuts Gabriel! Mark!”

Locke remained
still, his newly repaired Titan suit countering the force of the
jump drive activation.

One moment the
Hyperion was drifting outside of the deadly asteroid field that was
once a beautiful world named Nox, the next moment there was nothing
but a bright light, propelled forward towards New Horizon.

A reckoning was
coming for the master of the Stygian Council, a reckoning in the
form of a cruiser full of seriously pissed-off individuals,
hell-bent on spilling his treacherous blood.

Christian had
wandered the passageways of the Hyperion for hours. He had no idea
how he was going to prepare for the fight to come on his own, and
the wandering had come naturally as his chaotic emotions consumed
his every thought.

He had barely
noticed the crew of the vessel he now called home going about their
preparations. If he had he would have noticed how different each of
them was steeling themselves for whatever was to come. Groups of
crew still worked at readying the Hyperion for the battle to come.
Cases of ship-killing ammunition were loaded into offensive and
defensive batteries. Anything that could maim or kill was bolted or
welded down before the ordinance started sailing through the silent
void towards their beloved ship.

Women and
children of crew members were huddled in communal areas, trying
their best to calm the young ones during the jump to what could be
the Hyperion’s final fight.

His wandering
also made him skip groups of crew and soldiers gathering in
makeshift temples to pray to their ancient gods. Had he come across
these gatherings he would have seen many faces there known to
him.

Religion was
not outlawed on the Hyperion like so many other planets or vessels
in the vast fleet protecting humankind. Gray was an understanding
captain, and a believer of the divine himself, and so he allowed
those within his crew the freedom to worship what their hearts
desired - as long as it did not interfere with their duties.

As Christian
neared his assigned quarters, he passed by the rest of the Wolves
as they made themselves ready to face treachery head-on. He paused
for only a moment or two to watch what his squad-mates were up to,
hoping that their own preparations would give him an idea what he
needed to be doing.

The first he
had seen was Rivers, sitting at his usual work bench, fiddling with
equipment as he watched ancient recordings of an alien dressed in a
grey suit, named after some extinct grain. Rivers chuckled as the
odd-looking man fell asleep in a church of some kind. The humour
was lost on Christian; no doubt it was because of Rivers’ ancestry
that made him understand the antics of the rounded-headed buffoon
tripping over himself all the time. Rivers had noticed Christian in
the doorway, turning to offer him a bowl of meat stew he was
cooking next to his work-bench. Christian had politely declined
Rivers’ offer, knowing, with a sickening growl to his stomach, that
there was nothing but rodents on-board the Hyperion, and the stew
contained at least a few of them.

Next he had
walked by the open door of the armoury. Inside Pyoter was
skirmishing against training dummies with his giant sword. Pyoter
was already clad in his armour, swinging his colossal sword as he
cleaved the training dummies into smaller pieces. Christian said
nothing has he watched the expert skill of Pyoter’s combat style.
It was an awe-inspiring sight to see, and even more so during real
combat. Pyoter swung his blade in a horizontal arc, separating a
dummy’s head from its metal shoulders. The giant Titan paused a
moment as the blade completed its arc, turning his head to look at
Christian standing outside the armoury door. Pyoter said nothing,
only nodding at the rookie Titan before continuing his melee with
his silent opponents. Christian had nodded back and had left Pyoter
before he disturbed the man’s concentration.

Locke was not
with his Wolves while they prepared, instead he was on the bridge,
fully armoured as he stood next to Gray while he piloted the
Hyperion through a manual BEAM jump. Choosing to be there should
the jump fail, instead of sitting on his backside not knowing what
was going on outside of the Hyperion’s thick hull.

Christian
passed Xander’s quarters before he turned the corner to reach his
own quarters. The explosive expert was sitting on the floor of his
tiny quarters, unarmoured with his legs crossed and his eyes
closed. All kinds of explosive devices surrounded the Titan,
ranging from small grenades to larger devices capable of levelling
buildings. Christian guessed that Xander was meditating and working
shit out to make even bigger explosions, or he was silently letting
the explosives arouse him somehow. Either way, both realities were
disturbing enough and Christian moved quickly to not interrupt
Xander’s meditation - or whatever it was he was doing.

Christian
turned the corner and stopped dead in his tracks. Nathan was
standing outside of his quarters, wearing his under suit as was his
custom. Nathan’s arms were folded and his right hand was
impatiently tapping against his left bicep. Christian walked
closer, trying to look calm before he reached his brother.

Nathan turned
his head to look at his approaching brother, smirking at his
sibling before speaking. “Are you done?” he asked.

“Done with
what?” Christian enquired.

“With your
self-pitying stroll. Follow me if you are, otherwise you can go
inside and cry some more.” Nathan straightened up and started
walking away from Christian.

Christian’s
anger increased at his brother’s comments, but he was so used to it
by now that he bit back his own comments. He followed his brother
without a word, wondering where the estranged brother of his was
leading him.

They stopped at
an intersection a few passageways away from the crew quarters. In
front of them was a sealed bulkhead door, locked by a keypad
connected to a rotating mechanism visible on the outside of the
door.

Nathan keyed in
a six-digit code, turning to look at Christian as the door unlocked
with grinding gears. “If you tell anyone about this, I will kill
you,” he said without a smile.

Christian
nodded and followed his brother into the dark room beyond the open
door. Nathan stopped to punch in the same code on the keypad inside
the room, waiting for the door to close before hitting the light
switch next to the keypad.

The lights came
on with a dim glow, rising slowly to increase the ambient light to
a level that would not hurt their eyes.

Christian’s
eyes adjusted quicker because of the rising glow and he saw
something that surprised him more than anything. “It’s not
possible...how did you...why did you...it can’t be,” he said, the
words staggering from his mouth.

“I found it
during a mission, before volunteering of course. I kept it all this
time, it helps me to relax when I need to,” Nathan replied
calmly.

On an
ammunition crate stood a piece of both brother’s memories,
something the both of them congregated around when they were still
young, spending hours glued to the device - to their mother’s
annoyance of course. It was attached to a display hanging from the
wall above it, with two small controllers connected to it with a
length of cable. Two chairs faced the display, and a small cooling
case stood in between the two chairs. As children they called it a
gaming console, a device capable of taking anyone using it to
distant virtual worlds or ancient times. The one they had as
children was already an antique by the time they had inherited it
from their grandfather, but it made no difference to them as they
spent most of their youth shooting virtual opponents or beating
each other senseless with gruesome avatars.

Nathan took a
seat and picked up the left controller. He was always adamant on
being player one. He opened the cooling case beside him, reaching
in and taking out two bottles of what looked like green slime. “I
couldn’t find what we use to drink during our sessions, but these
don’t taste too bad,” he said, tossing one of the bottles to
Christian.

Christian
caught it and sat down next to his brother, picking up the second
controller before speaking. “Is this how you are going to prepare?”
he asked Nathan.

“I am already
prepared. You are the one in need of this.” Nathan pressed the
green power button on the device and the sound of it coming alive
filled the small room with memories of their past.

Christian
almost cried as he remembered the days that were long gone, without
another word he waited for Nathan to choose the game they would
play, preparing himself for his brother’s cheating ways.

Without
realizing it, Nathan had given his brother the greatest gift in a
moment of great need. Christian had no direction, and this small
gesture was exactly what he needed to calm himself.

He secretly
wished they could stay like this forever, just having fun, doing
what they did as children. But it was not to be, and soon the
Hyperion would draw close to New Horizon.

And once it
did, all hell would break loose.

“
We carve through the void with little
resistance to our vessels, reaching further and further into the
unknown. Every moment that passes our kingdom expands, growing
unchecked in all directions. There is no horizon to block our
passage, no object too far for our grasp. I hope we never reach the
edge of the universe as long as our species still draws breath, for
we should not wish to see the nothingness beyond the light of the
stars - extinction lurks there, just waiting for our young
species.”
-Honoured Captain Theroux, The First Star Explorer,
Deceased

“Prepare the
pods for launch,” Gray said to the communications officer close
by.

“Aye, Captain.
Pods are ready to launch,” the officer replied.

“Good, fire on
my mark,” Gray said. He was concentrating so hard that the veins in
his forehead were visibly throbbing. He was tired from staying
awake for such a long time. His arms were almost limp but he used
up every ounce of energy he had left to complete the jump. So many
people counted on his expert piloting skills that he had no choice
but to forego sleep until the jump was done.

Gray knew that
the Hyperion could not take much more of the constant strain it was
being put under. Gray spoke to his beloved ship under his breath,
trying to sooth the vessel with sweet nothings. “Good girl, bring
your ass around one more time for Daddy,” he said softly to
himself, “that’s it, just like that, you can complain all you want
once we are done my dear.”

Locke heard
everything his old friend was saying, and he smiled inside his
helmet as he stood vigil over the bridge of the Hyperion. He
remained silent, leaving Gray to do the thing he did best.

“Making our
final turn now, this will get very choppy!” Gray said as he yanked
at the controls, pulling back and to the left to force the Hyperion
to change course mid BEAM jump.

The Hyperion
did not lose any velocity as it changed its course, bending the
light projected by the BEAM drive. The manoeuvres Gray was
performing that Remy had calculated were unheard of. No-one before
now ever succeeded in manually changing course during a jump, its
probability factor was less than one percent, and yet the Hyperion
obliged every time Gray coaxed it along its path toward New
Horizon.

“Mark! Fire
pods!” Gray yelled at the communications officer.

The
communications officer did not reply, not wasting time with words.
He pressed the launch button and within moments sirens announced
the departure of all escape pods.

This was
another piece of Remy’s elaborate plan. The escape pods were
heavily armoured, automated pods capable of long distance travel.
Inside each pods she had worked tirelessly with engineering crews
to install boosting transmitters and upgraded broadcasting
equipment.

Once these
escape pods were launched, they would follow a pre-programmed
course to nearby sectors, and then broadcast a recorded message for
all to hear on all channels relaying the treachery of one Lord
Victor Vincent of Earth Prime’s ruling council. The message also
called for aid from all nearby vessels capable of reaching New
Horizon, pleading and begging all ship captains to drop what they
were doing and help before it was too late.

Everyone hoped
that this message would be heard by enough people to help with the
coming fight of New Horizon. Or at the very least bring the truth
of Lord Vincent’s treachery to light should the Hyperion be
destroyed during the battle.

“All pods
launched, zero were destroyed Captain,” Remy said from her seat
behind Gray.

Gray did not
reply, instead he just nodded and sighed with relief. He returned
his focus to the final phase of the jump, using what energy he had
left to steady his ship’s constant growling.

Nobody knew
exactly what to expect when they reached New Horizon. They could be
arriving to an already destroyed world, or arrive in time to stop
Lord Vincent’s plans. There was no way to know, and that fact made
everyone uneasy on-board the Hyperion. The only advantage they had
was that Lord Vincent was unaware of the Wolves and the Hyperion’s
survival. It was all they had, but they would milk that advantage
for all it was worth.