Gamma Nine (Book One) (7 page)

“Yes sir! No
dying. Roger that.”

“Good luck.
Your twenty-four hours,” Captain Locke paused and Christian could
hear the distinctive beeps of a clock being set and started,
“starts now.”

A red timer
appeared in the top left of his visor display. It started counting
down the moment the door on the other side of the concrete slab
unlocked and opened. On the other side a dimly lit corridor
waited.

Christian
vaulted over the slab that had held his weapons, landing and
sprinting for the open portal to his final trial in one fluid
motion. He needed to be fast. He had something to prove to
someone.

“Tactical
mode,” Christian said, the door closing behind him as he slid to a
halt, scanning his surroundings as he went down on one knee.
“Intel,” he waited before continuing, “Labyrinth.” Detailed
information on the gauntlet he was about to face scrolled down his
visor. His internal suit system responding to his voice commands as
he searched for a specific entry. Ammo cache locations were
immediately highlighted on his map. There was a footnote regarding
the caches hidden throughout the death-trap.

There is a
fifty-fifty chance that marked ammo caches have moved or have been
destroyed. Resupply not guaranteed, it read.

He tried not to
think on it as the entry he was waiting for scrolled past his
vision. He didn’t drop his guard for a second, still scanning the
low-light corridor that stretched out in front of him.

“Activate suit
OS vocals. Load entry, Labyrinth-Beast.”

His suit spoke
with a robotic voice, playing the entry he had chosen. “Labyrinth,
Beast, classified as hostile and dangerous. Captured enemy
combatants are low to medium threat level. Suit systems will
protect against ninety percent of damage from enemy combatants.
Hostiles classified as human or similar size before infection, and
are able to pierce inner layer of the Titan suit with enough
force.”

This made
Christian reach for his rifle. He wrenched on the slide and
shouldered the weapon, it was better to be prepared rather than be
surprised.

The suit OS
continued. “There are a minimum of ten enemies located in the
Labyrinth, starving and aggressive, approach with caution. The best
course of action is to put them down before they come within melee
range. Hostiles are agile and rely on stealth to ambush targets.
All enemy classifications track their prey with heightened senses
of smell and hearing.

Be fast, but be
quiet, he thought.

“Deactivate
vocals. Close entry,” he said, there was no point in listening to
more. It was dangerous enough already, he did not need to make
things psychologically worse for himself.

He moved
forward at a slow pace, checking the shadowed ceiling with every
step. The corridor started to open up, becoming wider as he
progressed down it. The floor was covered in a fine, grey powder.
He crouched down and picked up a handful of it, its texture would
ensure quiet movement, at least for now.

“Dark sight,”
he said. His vision changed instantly to blue-green. Shadows
disappeared and revealed door-less rooms on either side of the ever
widening corridor. He immediately dropped the handful of grey
powder and levelled his rifle in the direction of the first one.
“Remember to check your corners,” he mumbled to himself.

Christian felt
a strange wave of cold wash over his entire body, he almost
panicked thinking it was fear or something even worse. A few
moments later he realized it was his suit’s cooling system
compensating for his sudden rise of adrenalin. The cooling systems
were actively trying to stop him from sweating. It felt especially
strange in his groin, breezy yet pressurized. He felt slightly
ashamed of liking it even a little - this was not the place for
such things.

He shook his
head to clear his mind just as he reached the first darkened room
to his right. Christian put his back to the wall on the opposite
side of the door frame. It was empty from what he could see of the
room, with no sound emanating from within.

“Reap sight,”
he said as he moved to enter the room, he needed to be sure that
there was nothing there.

In the void
above New Horizon hung a colossal capital ship, its black armoured
hull reflecting the stars to whoever set their eyes upon it. It was
the size of a small city, with thousands of weapon batteries
pockmarking the giant vessel. One of only three such ships still in
active duty, its starboard side was decorated with gold lettering,
naming the vessel that brought more than just fear with it.
Wherever it went, death followed. The Stygian Council was more than
just a killer; it was capable of destroying anything it
encountered, a murderer of ships, and a reaper of planets. It had
enough firepower to pound cities to dust from orbit, in the age
before the war its fusion cannons could decimate planets, but
luckily the weapon was empty, the ammunition for such a terrible
weapon was lost forever behind enemy lines or liberated by rogue
parties and secreted away from the rest of the star kingdom.

It was out of
place above New Horizon, the ship’s orders were to protect Earth’s
solar system, and there was no reason for it to be in the planet’s
orbit. The Stygian Council had arrived without notice, drifting
into place next to the Hyperion. The only transmission it had sent
was an acknowledgement to the captain aboard the Hyperion, and had
remained silent ever since.

The myths and
rumours connected to the vessel had the sector’s defence forces on
edge. It was not only the unexpected and silent arrival that was
unsettling, but the man that commanded the vessel was the main
cause of everyone’s concern. No-one dared hailing the vessel after
its arrival, its commander was known for a short temper and a
sadistic tactical mind. The man that commanded the Stygian Council
had no interest in risking vital equipment in the dead zones, and
he had even less interest in saving humans trapped by the enemy.
All of them were potential hostiles, and he would rather kill
everything in his path to keep Earth safe from the Beast than waste
time on a hopeless cause. Kill a planet and leave nothing alive to
fight back later.

Born on Earth
and raised as a nobleman from an ancient royal family. His lineage
gave him free reign to do has he saw fit, he was a man without a
superior or equal, and he knew it. He commanded more than just his
prized vessel. Thousands of elite soldiers lived in the belly of
his capital ship, soldiers that were ready to act on his every
command, soldiers that never asked questions, the only kind of good
soldier - those that just followed orders.

This very man
sat on a throne of gold and velvet on the bridge of his giant
vessel, watching a screen in front of him with increased interest.
He sat with his sharp chin resting on his interlocked hands, dark
eyes darting left and right as he listened intently to the figure
moving and talking to itself on the screen. His jet-black hair
slicked back by what looked like engine oil or saliva. He was not
an attractive man, his face spoke of arrogance and
intelligence.

On the screen
the figure braced its back against a wall, rifle in hand while
scanning a dark room with practiced precision. The man was never a
supporter of the Titan Project. It was a waste of resources and man
power. Things that were in short supply in the galaxy were used to
make these avatars of hope. Pointless wasting of precious
commodities he could put to better use. His lips curled into a
smile as he thought about the report he had read earlier. It filled
him with silent glee that this could be last of these expensive
armoured experiments. They would not squander any more of his
wealth in pursuit of a futile goal.

He pressed a
gold-ringed finger to a button in his throne’s armrest. “Find
Gabrielle Locke,” he never took his eyes off the screen as he
spoke, “I wish to speak with him.”

The person on
the other receiving end of the message had only a second or two to
respond. “It will be done, my Lord Vincent.”

The first few
rooms were empty, nothing but a few loose ceiling boards and damp
spots spreading on the floors. All of them made Christian think of
abandoned habitation blocks he saw as a child on his home planet.
Here and there he could hear the drip-drip of a burst pipe leaking
fluid inside the walls. By the fifth room his guard started easing
up slightly, there was nothing here, just empty rooms and no
threats.

A sudden sound
made Christian jerk his rifle to the door he had just entered from,
it was close, almost outside of the room to the right. It had
sounded like metal scraping against organic material, as if a knife
was being dragged out of a human corpse. His suit systems boosted
his hearing beyond normal human levels. Prey sight also highlighted
the sound with a sonic pulse across his vision, determining the
source of the sound with high accuracy.

He froze as the
sound repeated, closer this time. It was moving towards him, the
third repeat of the sound confirmed that it was just outside of the
room. Christian was aware that he was trapped inside the room, he
remained absolutely still as the sound repeated again, this time
almost above him.

There, he had
heard breathing, the distinct sound of lungs drawing breath. He
knew what was coming before it happened.

Christian acted
without thinking, his muscles tensing and releasing as he started
to move. He had guessed that the walls were not too thick, he was
correct. He lowered his right shoulder and broke through the wall
in front of him with ease, like a thrown rock parting tissue paper.
The moment he broke through his stealthy enemy burst from the
ceiling, splintering boards and pipes on its way out. Christian
lowered his shoulder further into a dive, rolling forward over his
shoulders. The force of the roll helped him to avoid the worst of
the ceiling collapse. He had rolled back onto his feet by the time
his foe landed, bringing his rifle up to face the hole in the
wall.

The mutated
ex-human looked at him from the hole in the wall, growling at him
like a hungry predator, its skin was almost completely gone or torn
where mutated muscles had burst through. Its eyes had shifted to
the sides of its face, its nose now a blood covered snout. It limbs
were elongated, each one ending in claws that were once hands and
feet. The creature should not have existed in reality, but it was
real, and it was watching its new prey.

Whatever human
it had been before infection was all but gone now, all that was
left was a feral nightmare, aching to feed on Christian’s
flesh.

Christian
pulled the trigger of his rifle, controlling the recoil as the
Kicker’s full automatic mode spat bullets in the direction of the
monster. To a normal human the sound emitted by the Kicker would
have been deafening in such small room, but Christian didn’t notice
it at all, his focus remained on the target.

The Beast acted
faster than he had expected, stepping out of view with blinding
speed, only a few rounds had hit home, not enough to kill or
incapacitate it. It moved out of the room it had fallen into and
came at Christian from a new angle, rushing through the door of the
room he was firing from. Its steps were lightning fast, soaking up
the hail of bullets in its oversized muscles. Christian kept
firing, the monster finally staggered back as his clip ran dry. He
had only a few moments to reload his rifle before his foe would
renew its attack.

Before he could
reach for the new clip, a second foe pounced on him from the hole
in the wall. The first monster’s assault was a decoy, masking the
presence of the second and probably more deadly foe. It was smaller
in size and stocky with more teeth than a chainsaw. The new threat
had no sharpened claws at the end of its limbs. Instead, it had
club-like mutated growths that could bash him to a bloody pulp. It
moved just as fast as the first monster; Christian had just enough
time to draw his blade before the second monster steam-rolled into
him. He was hit by a force that would cripple any normal human,
swinging the blade with his left hand while being lifted from his
feet, his rifle gripped tightly in his right hand. He could not
afford to lose his weapon now. The blade bit into the shoulder of
the monster as both of them broke through the wall behind Christian
with a titanic crack. The nightmare duo’s plan was clear - the fat
one would render Christian immobile, giving the gangly one time to
finish him off.

Christian,
however, was trained and fully prepared for such an attack.

“I’m going,”
Nathan’s voice rising as his anger grew, “let go of me.”

Locke held on
to Nathan’s shoulders, interjecting himself between the angry Titan
and the door, casting a glance over his shoulder to Pyoter who was
blocking the observation room’s doorway. Pyoter’s size blocked
almost the entire doorway, his bulk better than any flimsy iron
door.

“Stand down
Lieutenant. This is not your fight.” Locke had to hold on tight,
Nathan was stronger than he looked, much stronger.

“Captain, give
me the order, let me go, this has never happened before.”

Nathan’s face
was hidden behind his helmet and mirrored visor, hiding his
expression of anger and concern, but Locke knew his second would be
difficult to reason with, this had to end now.

“If you can get
past Pyoter, you are free to do go.”

Nathan looked
towards his captain and gave Pyoter a nod. The nod was something he
did regularly, instead of having to speak to anyone.

“No,” the giant
said. “You stay, we watch.”

“He is right
Lieutenant. We all have to go through this in our own way. Stow
your personal feelings before this goes too far.” Locke let go of
Nathan’s shoulders. “Have faith in him.”