Finally, a reason to come out of hiding.
Fringe conspiracy groups are buzzing with excitement today as a cryptic message made its way around human inhabited space over GalNet. The small, encrypted text file consists of a single sentence followed by an undecipherable alphanumeric sequence which gives no indication as to who it is meant for, or who sent it, and there doesn't seem to be any response. Local system authorities have dismissed it as a hoax or simple hooliganism, but rumour has it the Federation has dispatched an envoy to the Imperial capitol. One thing is for certain, shadowy powers are beginning to make their move.
"Amateurs," Cyril scoffed as he closed the GalNet feed, "Dark powers have been mobilising for years." He leant back and stroked the stubble on his chin that had grown steadily over the last few days. He sent his message a few days ago, and he hoped it didn't fall on blind eyes. He had a lot of faith in his friends, but Cyril had to make the message as cryptic as possible, lest their mission be discovered by the wrong people. He stood up from the booth and made his way to the door, depositing his plastic 'space-cup' on the way.
"C'ya, Rick," called the bartender, a colossal man wearing only pants and covered in tattoos.
"Later," Cyril called back.
Slipher Hub is an odd place for an Imperial fugitive to hide. Not only is it deep in Imperial space, but it is also a stopping point on the great Imperial Slave (and illegal slave) trading routes, so its security is phenomenal. It is under the watchful eye of Zemina Torval, the biggest player in the Imperial Slave industry, and it is also a hotly contested planet by no less than three Imperial Senators. Even after all that, Cyril Caelus still considers this place a home. It is only a few lightyears from Futhorc, the former heart of the Network of Independent Imperial Systems, which he founded, and he has always had a love of both high technology and rumours, both of which are brought in abundance by the traders which frequent the port.
Cyril walked through the slums, trudging through discarded garbage and being very careful not to bump into anyone. There are some types who would use any excuse to start a fight. Once he was in the elevator, he entered 'Ship Storage' and held on to one of bars as the lift slowly descended. The large starports spin to provide comfortable gravity, though this is only felt the further away you are from the centre. As you close in to the middle of the station, the artificial gravity gets weaker. With a ding, the elevator halted and the doors slid open. With a gentle push he glided out of the lift before engaging his mag-boots and continuing the trek, his strong, proud stance hiding even the ungainly strides normally associated with walking in zero-g.
He reached a door and ran his hand over a pad next to it. The chip implanted in his hand transmitted the identity of Rickshaw Mason and the computer allowed access to the hangar. The door opened and freezing air, cooled by the constant opening of airlocks into a vacuum, washed over him. This was the Hangar Deck. The second level from the large cylindrical landing area in the centre of a starport. Here, ships that weren't making a quick stop on the pads on the surface, or undergoing maintenance or retrofit in the single hangars, would be stored here, so they weren't obstructing others seeking to use the station's facilities. It was essentially a large warehouse that wrapped around the port. The only ship Cyril was interested in, however, was his own. Placed in medium berth 105 was a Faulcon DeLacy Python - Fate's Reach.
Cyril liked the Python. It was the closest he could get an elegant design without drawing too much attention to himself, like he would with a Saud Kruger or Gutamaya model. It's also a good ship, which is a plus. Once on board, he instructed the computer to request departure clearance while he went to the bathroom to freshen up after days in hiding. By the time he made it to the bridge, his ship was on the top floor, ready to go.
"Slipher control, this is Fate's Reach, departing now."
"Roger that Commander. Have a save journey," replied a woman with a thick Imperial accent, who also sounded incredibly bored.
Cyril exited the station and aligned his ship with the first waypoint on the journey to HR 2551. He paused. Over the last few days, he had done his best to avoid thinking about it, but the time was now. He would be returning to that world, to that place, where he lost his precious Clipper, and very nearly, his own life. Regardless of how he may feel, the pieces were put in place, now was the time to make a move. He fired up the frame-shift drive, and with a stomach churning lurch, he was away.
. . . . . . . . . .
Captain Darragh Oisin observed the sinister ball of rock as it grew to encompass his view from the bridge. Although he hadn't experienced what his Lord Cyril did on the planet's surface, seeing the ground swallow an entire ship, then leave absolutely no trace, not even a hole…it was enough to make even the most hardened starfarer nervous. He stroked his clean shaven chin, doing his best to hide his concern.
"Helm, hold orbit. Exit supercruise at altitude three-hundred kilometres," he ordered, "Comms, relay those orders to the Valiant."
His crew acknowledged his instructions.
Captain Oisin wasn't the only one who received Cyril's cryptic message. Standing authoritatively next to him, wearing the same white uniform with orange and teal trim, was a dark skinned, thirty-something year old, woman with long black hair held in a ponytail - Calli Lenz. For the few short years of Cyril's reign, Calli served as his most trusted servant. She was co-administrator of the Network, head of Network Intelligence and his personal bodyguard. Her training in the Imperial Intelligence Academy proved a valuable asset in all these duties, and her chequered past served just as well while in hiding.
"It doesn't look like much," she said.
"That's what I thought too, milady."
"Don't start that 'milady' crap again. I tolerated it before, but you have no excuse now."
"If you wish," Oisin still felt uncomfortable. Decades of Imperial service had made informality alien. "Can I at least call you 'sir', or 'ma'am'," he whispered.
"'Sir' is fine," she whispered back, smiling briefly.
"Exiting supercruise now," reported the helmsman.
The view out of the canopy became obscured by a blue haze while a dull hum announced the frame-shift drive was disengaging. With a slight lurch, and a loud boom, the ship dropped to sub-luminal speeds. Short minutes later, another ship dropped out of supercruise barely ten kilometres away. This vessel lacked the grace and elegance of Oisin's Imperial Cutter, though that didn't hamper the presence it carries. The Anaconda class is a force to be reckoned with. This particular Anaconda is the Valiant, the flagship for the mercenary group 'The Knights Valiant' which served as the Network's military. Captained by a man who is known only as 'Juggernaut' Josh, the Knights Valiant are loyal to Cyril, and not just because he pays them well.
"Captain, the Valiant is hailing us."
"Put him through."
A high quality hologram of Josh materialised in the centre of the bridge. He was a short yet solidly built man. Despite his apparent strength, he's quite unremarkable.
"Captain…Desmond, isn't it?" Josh just wanted to rile Oisin, he already knew exactly who he was talking to.
"Oisin, Captain Oisin," he spat.
"Oh, of course, Big O!" Josh chuckled to himself, "Desmond's the one with the 'flower' isn't he. Oh, and if it isn't the lovely miss Lenz, always a pleasure to see you."
Calli bowed her head slightly, more out of curtesy than actual respect.
"Where is our almighty Lord?" He said 'Lord' mockingly. Outsiders don't care much for the Imperial ranking system.
"I think he has decided to be fashionably late again," Calli postulated. Once thing she and Josh did share was a distaste for Cyril's arrogance. While Cyril had resisted the corruption of high power quite well, it had nonetheless made him overconfident, and that cost him his reign.
"We shouldn't proceed without him," said Oisin.
"Agreed," responded Josh, "Can we at least do the briefing? I'd like to know why we are out here. Now that we aren't tied to our Lord's deep bank accounts, we cannot afford to miss work opportunities. That, and he had the gall to ask me to spend thousands buying this useless hardware. This had better good."
"Oh, it is," said Calli.
. . . . . . . . . .
Calli and Oisin had moved to the operations room, just behind the bridge. Josh's hologram was already there, waiting for them. The three surrounded a round table which dominated the centre of the room. The lights dimmed and a hologram of the planet below appeared. Calli began the briefing.
"Two weeks ago, the salvage vessel Hamilton disappeared within this system, which we are calling Zeta Primadae for now. Its exact fate is still unknown, though the following events lead us to believe the ship was…destroyed on this planet here, dubbed ZP-D2."
"Why aren't we using this system's real name?" asked Josh.
"Because HR 2551 Delta 2 is too long to say in conversation."
Even Josh agreed with that logic.
"Cyril Caelus, of course, felt curious about this common and uninteresting occurrence. Unfortunately for him, he did discover something. His initial expedition resulted in the loss of his ship, the Deviant Reprisal, and, very nearly, the loss of his life."
Recorded footage of the ground swallowing the Reprisal, followed by Cyril's narrow escape, replaced the image of the planet above the table.
"For this loss, nothing was gleaned. We only have the patchy images of a malfunctioning ground penetrating radar and the words of Lord Caelus and Captain Oisin."
"And unfortunately, Lord Caelus's words may not be accurate," despite the shame Oisin felt speaking ill of his Lord, it needed to be said, "He says he saw a face in the settlement, though investigation of his SRV footage didn't show anything of the sort. He was brought aboard my ship in a very sorry state; panic stricken and incoherent."
Josh smiled.
"Don't you dare think of insulting him!" Oisin yelled at the mercenary.
Josh held up his arms, "I would never do such a thing. I hope to be swimming in his bank accounts soon after all. You mentioned a settlement?"
"Yes," said Calli, as a hologram of the small town appeared. "Dixon Dock. It's abandoned, though both Cyril's SRV and the Donnager detected anomalous readings from it. It also contained a distress beacon which had been disabled not long before Oisin and Cyril arrived."
Josh leaned in, "Ok, this is getting interesting now. Settlements usually have some pretty good salvage. We could turn a tidy profit from this."
"Have you forgotten the Reprisal was swallowed whole?" asked Oisin, shocked at this mercenary's disregard for his ship and crew.
"We won't land; we'll just use grappling hooks."
"The settlement is not to be tampered with," ordered Calli sternly.
Josh retreated and made a mock salute. "You're the boss, boss," he said, disappointed.
Calli and Oisin looked blankly at the hologram of the settlement. A look of apprehension crossed their faces.
"Is there something you're not telling me?" asked Josh.
Calli and Oisin looked at each other, then at Josh.
"Cyril's Wave Scanner detected some…strange things," Calli said slowly.
"Like…?" Josh was getting impatient.
"Changes in area density. Movement."
"I thought you said the colony was abandoned?"
"It is. There's no heat, no energy, no life."
"Could you start making sense here…?" Josh was interrupted by one of his crewman. He muted his audio and lent to one side. Moments later, one of the Donnager's crew requested entry. Oisin permitted it, and Maeve, the systems officer, entered.
"Cyril's Python has entered the system."
"Finally," Calli sighed.
Josh reactivated his audio, "I'm assuming that…" he saw Maeve, "um…gorgeous woman has just told you our 'Lord' has arrived."
"Indeed," replied Oisin.
"Well then, let's get underway." Josh's hologram disintegrated.
. . . . . . . . . .
The Fate's Reach docked with the Donnager and its only occupant, Cyril Caelus, embarked upon the Imperial vessel. Cyril made his way to the ship's bridge where Captain Oisin and Calli Lenz were waiting for him.
Oisin bowed. "Good to see you, my Lord."
Calli simply smiled, "Ditto. We have already briefed Josh on the situation, we decided to leave mission details to you."
"Thank you Calli. Open a line to the Valiant."
"There already is one," spat a spiteful Josh, "When will you pay me back?"
"You'll be happy to know that that money was not wasted. Those drones will prove vital to this mission.
"For 800,000 credits, they better!"
"800,000 credits for drones?" asked Calli.
"Not just any drones. Core Dynamics S6 Reconnaissance Skimmers; ground penetrating radar, wave scanners, cameras, the works. And, they don't touch the ground, so hopefully they won't trigger whatever is… 'eating' ships."
"They'd better be safe," said Josh.
"Prepare drones for launch. Set a course for Dixon Dock." ordered Cyril.
"Shall we launch fighters?" asked Oisin.
"No. Let's keep fighters in reserve, just in case."
"As you wish."
. . . . . . . . . .
The cargo hatch of the Donnager lowered followed by Maeve reporting that the first drone was away. What was essentially a flying box glided gently down towards the settlement, carried by two large rings emitting exotic electromagnetic fields which kept the skimmer in flight. At the front was a large 'eye' which contained various instruments; a camera and radar to name but two. It wasn't long before all four drones were zipping around the small settlement, ardently scanning and observing any nook and cranny they could find, while sending all the data back to the two large ship hovering a few kilometres away. Cyril watched the activity. Images of his narrow escape permeated his thoughts. He tried his best to keep to logical analysis, ignoring the emotions attached to the memories.
Calli looked up at him, and saw the fear in his eyes. She put a hand on his shoulder and asked quietly, "Are you alright?"
"It's strange," he whispered, "I'm two kilometres away, behind a seventeen-hundred mega joule shield and military grade armour, but I still don't feel safe. That colony…it scares me."
"Oh, neat," a young male voice intruded on comms. It was a member of the Valiant's crew.
"What is it?" asked Cyril.
"That building there…" a large structure in the middle of one of the drone feeds became outlined, "…that is a prefab laboratory. Very expensive, to both build and move. The equipment in there is too sensitive to be dissembled. I once saw one being loaded onto a Panther Clipper. They had to remove its entire lower hull, beneath the cargo hold, just to get it in."
"More mysteries," whispered Calli.
"Actually, this is our first answer. This is a science outpost," announced a reinvigorated Cyril.
"Called Dixon Dock?" questioned Josh.
"Ok, a clandestine science outpost. My point being, this place may have been set up to study whatever has been happening here."
"But how did they even set the place up in the first place?" asked Calli. "Your ship was eaten within minutes of you landing. It would take days to build…"
Cyril face darkened.
"I'm sorry…"
"No, its fine. You're right, it's just more mysteries."
"Seismic activity!" reported Maeve.
Everyone turned.
"Why?" asked Oisin, "The drones aren't even touching the ground."
"Seismic activity is holding at a steady low; it may just be a coincidence."
"Must be," said Cyril, not entirely convinced.
Ten minutes past. No new discoveries. There was nothing, not even the anomalous signals, movement readings or seismic activity detected previously. The views inside the structures showed only what was expected - nothing - but it was difficult to get a clear image anyway. It was as if they returned to the wrong settlement. Cyril was becoming disheartened. He had nothing to prove, the proof of what he experienced was irrefutable, but the feeling he may never know more about this place began to wear him down. That was, until, one of the drone operators spotted something. He moved the skimmer in for a closer look, and sure enough, the first major discovery made itself known. The 'black box' recorder from an SRV. The drone extended an appendage and retrieved the box before flying back to the Donnager.
"Seismic activity!" Maeve called out.
"More of it?" asked Cyril.
"Yes, and it's getting stronger, centred on the settlement."
"Have the drones raise altitude," ordered Oisin.
"Um…what is that?" asked a confused Calli, who was looking out the left side of the ship.
The others looked. Forming on the cliff face to the east of the settlement was a short wall of sand which swept down and covered the settlement. The telemetry feeds for the three remaining drones went dark. In seconds, the wall passed. The sand fell and rested on a plain in the distance. When they looked back towards the settlement, the drones were gone.
"Where did the drones go?"
"I don't know," Cyril, his face aghast, "But the more important question is; how is there wind on a planet with no atmosphere?"
Josh growled, "You owe me 600,000."
. . . . . . . . . .
Cyril, Oisin, Calli and Josh all stood around the hologram table in the operations room while a specialist worked on connecting it to the ship.
"We've already analysed it, sir," reported the specialist, "Much of its data was corrupted somehow and what does remain is no different from the data gathered from Lord Caelus' SRV during venture. There is a message which has been forcibly placed in its memory, however. We have not viewed this message, sir."
"Play it when ready," said Oisin.
The specialist hooked up the black box and sifted through its files for the message. It stood out, the only file with a name that didn't follow the pattern of the rest. He opened it. A patchy hologram of a middle aged man materialised.
"I am Commander Whittaker of the the…formally of the salvage vessel Hamilton." The voice was breathy and unclear, as if he was whispering in panic. "If you are listening to this message, it means you have come down to this settlement. Run! Now! This place is not abandoned, I repeat, not, abandoned. I don't know what's going on here, but it isn't good. If you value your life, you will turn away now and never come back. Don't try to find me, I will already be dead." The sound of something banging and scraping could be heard in the back ground behind his voice, then the message ended.
Everyone in the room just stood back and analysed what they had just heard.
"We need boots on the ground," said Calli, calmly.
There was a collective "What!?" from the others, even the specialist.
"After all that, you still want to go down there?" asked Josh, "I'll admit, you've got balls, but why risk getting gobbled up by another wall of sand?"
"If I do get 'eaten' it won't be by a wall of sand, I'll be swallowed by the ground, but even that won't happen. We'll see it coming and we will be ready."
"We?"
"I can't carry all the equipment myself. Maeve has already voiced her desire to use a ground probe to get more detailed seismic measurements and I want to explore what's inside those buildings, the drones were never able to get a clear picture."
"Despite what this Whittaker said, you still want to go down?"
"Because of what Commander Whittaker said I want to go down. How was he able to record that message? He was in an atmosphere. The SRV wouldn't function if the black box was not present and you cannot manually input data into a black box through the SRV's systems. For some reason, he removed his black box and entered one of those buildings. It's the only explanation."
"Regardless," Oisin chimed in, "the final decision rests with Lord Caelus."
Calli looked over at him. Cyril was strangely pensive; a look of deep thought and concentration dominated his face while he stared at the black box sitting on the table, though it was unlikely he was looking at anything in particular. "Cyril?" she asked.
Cyril looked up at her. "I have every reason to stop you," he said slowly and calmly, "even my own curiosity, at this point, is struggling to hold on. We aren't learning anything yet we are continuing to lose equipment. I would rather not lose lives. I don't think whatever's here wants us to learn about it."
"So there will be no expedition?" asked Calli with a touch of disappointment.
Cyril sighed.
"Cyril, in the end, I'm choosing to put my life at risk. Those I take with me are equally aware of the risks, but we want to know. I know you are concerned about the wrong people discovering, maybe even taming, whatever is here. If we leave, that is almost certainly going to happen. We must understand this, if only to allow us to combat it in the future if need be." She was trying to appeal to Cyril's benevolent nature.
"Oisin?" he asked, seeking support.
"I cannot speak for Lady Lenz, but if Maeve is aware of the risks, she was here with us before. If she wishes to go down onto the planet, I will not stop her."
"Josh?"
"Humph, if any of my crew want to commit suicide, who am I to stop them?"
Cyril gave in. "Ok Calli. Form your team.
She smiled, "Thank you."