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The Pathfinder Initiative, Shadow Apocalypse, Book One

By PJ White Copyright 2017

Smashwords Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you

This book is dedicated to my family. You are my inspiration and make all things possible.

Contents:

Title

Chapter 1: Sanctuary

Chapter 2: Coffee

Chapter 3: Pathfinder

Chapter 4: Respite

Chapter 5: Reflection

Chapter 6: A Breakdown in Communication

Chapter 7: Action

Chapter 8: Contact

Chapter 9: Fear

Chapter 10: Preparation

Chapter 11: To Arms

Chapter 12: Aftermath

Chapter 13: Losses

Chapter 14: Recovery

Chapter 15: Underground

Chapter 16: Labyrinth

Chapter 17: Beginning of the End

Chapter 18: No Escape

Chapter 19: Premonitions

Chapter 20: Homeward Bound

Chapter 21: Flying the Flag

Chapter 22: The End of the Beginning

Epilogue

End

Chapter 1: Sanctuary

One wrong footfall and Hewson was dead, he knew that. But that didn't stop him walking several miles each day around the seemingly endless canyons surrounding the Sanctuary. The sheer faces and loose footing made the terrain extremely hazardous, though the views, especially at dawn, were nothing short of breathtaking and in Hewson's opinion, well worth the risk.

Owed largely to a bad night's sleep and probably a little too much red wine, Robert Hewson was today feeling all of his thirty-five years. Of average height and build, Hewson didn't stand out in a crowd, which suited him fine. He had light brown hair and eyes of a colour that seemed to vary between blue and green dependant on the light.

The year was 2103 and terraforming activity on Mars was now well into its third decade, but as yet the planet still couldn't support life. Hewson however was sure that within another two decades everyone would be breathing an unpolluted atmosphere. He just hoped that lessons had been learnt by all to respect ones environment.

His Father, David Hewson, had known all along what would become of the earth, and the method in which Mother Nature would exact her revenge. And like so many other scientists before him, his warnings had fallen on deaf ears.

In 2050 millions of people had tried in vain to escape the tidal waves that struck the Eastern seaboard of the United States. Even as the first waves descended on New York and Maine, the World's mind-set was still to recover, rebuild and continue undaunted. Though the severity of the ice storms that hit the world shortly after, negated the possibility for over a decade.

By 2065, following the plethora of natural disasters, the United Nations had rebuilt much of the world's infrastructure and was at the height of its powers, enjoying the solidarity and friendship of more countries than at any other point in its illustrious history. Together, they had been able to practically stamp out drought, famine and had finally gotten agreement from all of the largest nations on Earth to radically reduce carbon emissions.

However there were still a handful of countries, considered terrorist states that for varying reasons could not, or would not conform to UN regulations.

Their defiance had led to trade embargoes and various other sanctions, but with ever growing populations and nowhere near enough resources to sustain them, in June of 2065 a rash of small, but nevertheless brutal conflicts broke out on every continent.

Hostilities around the world soon escalated to such extreme levels that martial law was imposed in most of Europe, Asia and the United States.

A new age of terrorism had dawned.

It's true that Industry had played its part in the Earth's demise, but the sword truly fell when an extreme terrorist organisation known simply as the Coalition, took control of three nuclear missile silos in Northern Russia.

On the 4th of July 2065, it had taken only one synchronised act of fanaticism to ensure that mankind's only chance for survival was to look upwards and into the heavens.

Long before the onset of war, Hewson's Father was already in the midst of developing a revolutionary type of atmosphere processor. His goal had always been to try and save the earth and bring her back from the brink of destruction.

News of David Hewson's work had spread quickly throughout academic circles and just as quickly to the government, so when the war's initial skirmishes had started, he and his pregnant wife had been picked up by MI5 and taken underground along with two thousand other key personnel.

Just six weeks later, nuclear fire had rained down on the Earth, sealing mankind's fate.

The U.S. and European councils had already been working toward a joint mission to Mars, so the groundwork had already been laid. The real task had been to obtain all of the raw materials required for such a mammoth undertaking.

With the majority of the radiation concentrated around what was left of Earth's cities, it had still been possible to continue mining in a handful of isolated sites in North America and Spain. In the end it had taken seven years to build the twelve vessels that would carry mankind's last hope and then another year to prepare for their launch.

On October 11th 2078, all twelve vessels reached their final destination and the United Republic of Mars was born. Soon thereafter, the construction of the Sanctuary began, as did the terraforming.

Since it was uncertain how successful mining operations on Mars would be, most of the materials needed for the construction of the Sanctuary, and what would eventually be the colonies' fleet of Stargliders, had come from the giant transport vessels. Designed so that they could be easily dismantled, ten of the twelve vessels had been broken up upon arrival to build the main habitat. This had left the colony with only two ships. One of which was left intact for obvious reasons, while the other was used to build the first two prototype Stargliders. From there on in, Mars' modest mining operations were able to supply the colony with the ores it needed to produce iron and steel.

The only large deposits of water on Mars had been the glaciers in the polar regions, though thanks to two decades of atmosphere processing, where once the biting winds sweeping across the vast crimson plains had brought with them only dust, now they also carried life-nourishing moisture.

Hewson had been ten when the atmosphere processing had started and in his lifetime the temperature had risen by almost ten degrees and he had seen Mars evolve from a cold, dry desert into a blossoming world.

Being somewhat of a romantic, Hewson had always hoped that maybe one day, his generation would be able to return to Earth and rebuild its lost civilization. There had been scientific missions proposed, though none had been sanctioned to date.

With a little under half an hour of oxygen remaining and a 0745hrs appointment to keep, Hewson started to make his way back to the Sanctuary. As the days on Mars were only 2.7% longer than that of Earth, a twenty four hour clock system had been in place since the planet was first settled. Because the change had only been incremental, it had not taken long for the colony's perception of time to alter, so Hewson's half an hour of oxygen was in fact based on Martian time.

As was his routine, Hewson only ever listened to music on the return trip, so as he laboured up the final crest, he flicked on his MP6 player and hit random and it wasn't long before the rich tones of Dean Martin were filling his eardrums.

When Hewson reached the top of the incline, he saw the welcoming sight of the Sanctuary, crowned centrally by its three distinctive spherical habitats.

As he got closer, Hewson could just make out the outline of a three-man repair crew on the left edge of the Western habitat. They were replacing one of the massive plexiglas tiles that made up the outer skin and superstructure of the dome. Hewson often wondered what the future held for the Sanctuary, as there would undoubtedly come a time when the majority of the population would choose to leave and find a place of their own to call home. He just hoped that when that time came, the powers that be would decide to preserve as much of the Sanctuary as possible. He knew though in his heart of hearts that with the severe lack of raw materials, the Sanctuary would share the fate of the transport vessels and be stripped and used in the construction of housing for the masses.

Fifty metres ahead stood the East airlock and the only thing that stood before Hewson and air-conditioned comfort was a thirty metre wide trench, affectionately referred to as the Abyss. Even though the reinforced steel bridge that spanned the trench could support several tonnes, Hewson was always wary when walking across it. The trench's depth was in excess of two hundred metres, and sometimes in an attempt to cure his fear of heights, he would stare down into its depths.

Taking three steps forwards, Hewson placed his hands on the top rail of the catwalk. He then leaned forwards and stared down, though within a few seconds he felt that all too familiar queasiness hit the pit of his stomach. Admitting defeat, he pulled himself away and walked toward the airlock chamber.

Activating the airlock, Hewson waited for the exterior hatch to open and then stepped into the chamber. Once the outer hatch had closed, he started the recompression cycle, and thirty seconds later the interior hatch opened, allowing him to walk through to the ready room. Stowing the pressure suit in a locker, Hewson straightened his clothes and headed for the botanical gardens. He wasn't too ripe, so he'd have a shower later.

It was the Facilities Director, Rebecca Harrison that had left the voicemail for him the previous evening, requesting an urgent A.M meeting.

By the time Hewson had picked up the message, it had been far too late to call Harrison and re-schedule for a more sensible hour. _How very typical of his old friend_.

With the time now 0735hrs, the main habitat was just starting to really come alive. There were people out running, others having an early morning breakfast and a few individuals sitting down on benches with their laptops, preparing work for the coming day.

Hewson left the main habitat by the East exit and walked down a series of corridors that took him past the docking ring, which currently was eerily quiet, though in an hour it would be a hive of activity, and one of his least favourite places to be.

He knew that an unscheduled meeting with Harrison could only mean that something needed fixing, researched or in some way explained. _Oh to be in demand._

Out of hours access to the botanical gardens was restricted to high-ranking personnel, so when Hewson reached the double doors he had to stop and enter his social ID. Meetings at this hour in the gardens weren't uncommon, but Hewson could see on the data log that the only person to have entered the gardens in the last nine hours was Harrison.

In preparation, Hewson took a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket then engaged the door mechanism. Instantly the corridor was flooded by blinding sunlight.

As much as was possible the conditions in the gardens mirrored the Earth of old, giving the colonists seasonal changes that could be directly experienced, rather than the harrowing and less hospitable variety that the planet's surface offered. Currently the gardens were providing a fairly good simulation of a summer's day, which for the majority of the older colonists, re-kindled bitter sweet memories.

It never ceased to amaze Hewson the effect that this artificial paradise had on him and anyone else that had the full use of their five senses. The common consensus was that Humans weren't supposed to live in sterile, purely synthetic surroundings, so soon after the first three bio-domes had been constructed, it was decided that a more organic and verdant addition to the Sanctuary was required. A mammoth fifteen month excavation had been required to provide the Sanctuary with space for a suitable leisure facility and sufficient room for farming. However that had been the easy part. Choosing a theme for the gardens had proved far more problematic, though after democracy had worked its magic, the end result had been an idyllic three tiered parkland environment. A quarter of the lower level had been left as playing fields for recreational sports, and the rest was used to grow wheat, barley, corn and a diverse array of vegetables.

The middle level comprised mainly of trees, saplings and shade loving plants, whilst the third tier was a plateau full of stunning flowers and shrubs from every corner of the world that was. And it was in amongst this beautiful setting, where the cemetery was located.

It still upset Hewson to think that yesterday's Earth only existed as a memory, but then that was precisely why the gardens had been commissioned, to commemorate that bygone age and to remind everyone that in some small measure that world still lived on.

As Hewson walked up to the plateau, either side of him was dotted with Oak and Ash trees. They cast intricate shadows over the wild flowers and ferns that grew below them, and within their midst came the exquisite song of several blackbirds.

All of the birds were cloned from the Sanctuary's extensive collection of DNA and six months ago five pairs had been released into the gardens. Some had already produced young of their own, though next time round, Hewson hoped the council would be a little more adventurous as to which species to resurrect.

Further on up the hill Hewson saw the familiar sight of the monument that had been built to mark the completion of the gardens. The bronze sculpture was supposed to represent a fusion between man and nature, but to Hewson it looked more like a cross between an insect and an explosion. It did at least serve some purpose by marking a fork in the path. The path to the right led to the cemetery, while the trail to its left led to the flower gardens. Knowing Harrison's habits quite well, Hewson headed for the latter.

As he walked past the highly scented flower borders, Hewson saw Harrison sitting on a bench looking up at the red dawn through the fifty metre wide skylight, enjoying the Sanctuary's premier sun-trap. Harrison was so absorbed that she didn't notice Hewson approaching at all.

"How's the tan?" Hewson asked.

Harrison stood up and turned round, fixing Hewson with one of her trademark smiles. She was fifty two years of age, but due to the white colouration of her shoulder length hair, she looked older. Never married, Harrison had always claimed never to have found the time, but the truth was she had always put her career ahead of everything, including her relationships.

"Rob. How's things?" Harrison asked as Hewson approached.

"Can't complain, and I could certainly get used to these early morning meetings." Hewson replied, kissing Harrison lightly on the cheek before lifting his face skyward to feel the heat of the sun.

"I do seem to be having more of my meetings in here these days. Slight abuse of power I suppose? But with all the hours the council's got me working I think I've earned an extra bit of R+R. How's our Katie?" Harrison asked.

"She's good thanks, though probably annoyed about me skipping breakfast again."

Harrison motioned towards the bench she'd been sitting on and they both sat down.

"Well I haven't seen you both for a while now, so what do you say we all get together tonight? The only condition being that you come over to me, and if you're very lucky, I may even cook for you."

"Done." Hewson replied.

Harrison paused and stared at Hewson for a few long seconds, almost as if she was attempting to extract or decipher some fragmented thought buried deep inside his mind.

"What are you looking at?" Hewson said still laughing.

"You." Harrison answered, her face now a little more serious.

"Me what?"

"Well let's just say that I'm a little perplexed as to why you and Kate are still with us."

Hewson stared at Harrison, still with a slight grin on his face, but he knew that he was in for a lecture about something, though his instincts told him there was more to it than that.

"Why haven't you taken a deep space assignment yet?"

Hewson was a little surprised by the random direction of the conversation, so he thought about the question for a moment before answering. But when he spoke he couldn't help but have a slightly defensive tone, one that would have been reserved for his Father whilst having one of their legendary 'debates'.

"I guess because things aren't finished here, and we've been thinking about having kids. Does that sound about right?"

"Sorry I didn't mean that to sound like an accusation, I know how much you want to see things come to fruition around here, but I also know how much you want to get _out there_." Harrison gestured towards the skylight and beyond.

"I look at you sometimes Rob and you have the look of a man who wants more from life, more than this place can offer you. You're both still young and you've got many years to decide about children, but once they're here, then you're options will become more limited. Mark my words, now is the time to get out there and experience as much as you can."

"Kate and I have thought about going off-world but...."

"But you've felt obligated to stick around here and see things through for your Mother and Father?"

"I guess."

"But they would have wanted you to have something for yourself as well, wouldn't they?"

Hewson nodded.

"Just think about it, that's all I ask."

Just for a second Harrison's eyes became melancholy, a hidden sadness there. Perhaps it was regret at never having had her own children, though in the past when the subject had come up, it had never received more than a few moments of polite conversation and then dismissal, so this unexpected change in Harrison made Hewson feel uneasy.

"Anyway." Harrison continued. "Back to the reason you're actually here this morning. I have some interesting news to share with you."

Still baffled by Harrison's erratic behaviour, Hewson listened with a quizzical look on his face.

"I received a message from Joanna Davies last night." Harrison said, waiting for a reaction.

"Pathfinder?" Hewson said, now wide eyed. "Don't tell me she's managed to get the damn thing working?"

"She didn't go into any detail, it was only a voicemail, but she sounded like an overexcited schoolgirl and asked if she could address the entire council this morning."

"Interesting indeed." Hewson said, his eyebrows raised.

"Well yes, that's one way of putting it. But if it's the news we've been waiting for, then I think today's session may prove to be somewhat historic."

"So you mean when I tell everyone that the oxygen content is up by another 0.6% they may not be all that impressed?" Hewson said.

"Well I'm impressed." Harrison proclaimed with a smile.

"Madam is too generous with her praise. Can't say I'm too surprised though. Joanna always was brilliant."

"Well we'd better make a swift retreat, as you need to go home and prepare." Harrison said as a matter of fact.

"Prepare? Prepare for what?" Hewson said, already knowing what Harrison was going to say.

"Well someone's got to brief the council on Pathfinder and you're the most qualified. And I know how passionate you are about the project." Harrison said positively.

Hewson wasn't a big fan of the council, or public speaking for that matter, so did his best to hide his irritation. The briefing would take him about half an hour to prepare for, which left hardly any time for a shower, a shave or anything else, especially breakfast.

As they left the tranquil surroundings, Hewson and Harrison breathed a small sigh before joining the real world again.

"Right, so I'll see you at 0830hrs?" Harrison said and then walked away briskly.

A little bewildered, Hewson started to make his way home. He hadn't seen Joanna Davies for almost two years and though they'd never been close friends, they had worked together on a number of projects, among them an experiment that yielded some significant advances in the colony's long range communications. Notably, it was some of Davies' journals on quantum mechanics that had encouraged Hewson to learn more about the subject himself. He was by no means an expert, but he knew enough to be able to hold his own. Davies on the other hand was simply at the forefront of innovation in her field, and in Hewson's eyes, was one of the most driven and intelligent people he'd ever known. So for her to be making an unscheduled communiqué, you could bet the farm that the news was of great importance.

Chapter 2: Coffee

The house in which Robert and Kate Hewson lived was the same as a hundred others throughout the Sanctuary, nothing pretentious, just a good average size living space. It was the décor that breathed life into each one, giving it its own identity and ambience. As a consequence interior design was a very popular pastime, though it had to be said that some were definitely more _successful_ than others.

Hewson's front door opened into a small porch area that lead through to the sitting room, which courtesy of a stained bay window, was bathed in pale sapphire. Below the window stood a silver metallic coffee table, around which were two black sofas and an armchair.

On the opposite side of the room was a dining table, though it was rarely used, as Hewson and Kate normally elected to perch around the coffee table and watch an old movie or TV episode from the Sanctuary's multimedia archive.

The entire back wall of their sitting room was taken up completely by two book shelves that stood from floor to ceiling and housed their entire collection of rare hardbacks and first edition paperbacks. It was probably the largest single collection of books anywhere in existence. Most of the collection had belonged to Hewson's Father, who had rather controversially insisted that the books be transported to Mars. David Hewson had campaigned for almost two years and had even suggested that he would stay behind, if the books couldn't be saved. Eventually he had won his battle and a separate transport had been commissioned specifically to save as many of Earth's treasures as possible, though nothing so vulgar as gold or jewels, instead there were all manner of ancient artefacts. Paintings, pottery, furniture, leather bound hand penned tomes, all of which were completely irreplaceable and transcended any measurable value. Between the two book shelves was a walkway through to the kitchen, and further on down the hallway was the bathroom and bedroom.

*****

From the moment Hewson opened the front door, the intoxicating aroma of coffee assaulted his senses and for the time being, getting his hands on a fresh cup was his only priority.

Sitting there on the kitchen work surface, almost with a touch of the divine about it was the freshly prepared cafetiere. Hewson could hear the shower running, so it looked like Kate had done her normal trick of timing his return to perfection and preparing his early morning pick me up before slipping away.

Hewson filled a cup and immediately started sipping the contents, feeling the caffeine massage his tired mind into a more cohesive state. Like most of the food stuffs and beverages available, the coffee was derived from a complex cocktail of chemicals. The botanical gardens allowed the colony to grow some of its own produce, though there was still nowhere near enough room to grow a crop capable of supporting the entire population. So the reality was that eighty percent of the Sanctuary's supplies of food and drink were in one way or another created in a laboratory, though thanks to the advances of modern science, they were also relatively easy to synthesise.

Still not best pleased about being denied a full breakfast, Hewson moved over to the breakfast bar and grabbed himself an apple.

Looking over his shoulder into the sitting room, he saw his laptop setup on the coffee table from the night before. With any luck, Hewson hoped, he would be able to print off some of the more digestible technical specifications for Pathfinder and simply wing it for the briefing. Maybe that might buy him enough time for a shower and a shave.

Still sipping his coffee, Hewson sat down in the armchair and reached forward, hammering his security password into the laptop with his left hand.

Whilst the machine booted up, he eased back and bit into the taught green skin of his apple. Rationing was a necessary way of life in the Sanctuary, but if you were careful it wasn't impossible to save up enough food ration credits to afford the odd luxury from the botanical gardens. As Hewson relished the explosion of sweet flavour, he wondered what revelations the council session would hold, and how badly he would have to perform for this to be his last briefing for a while.

In the background, the shower stopped running, and a few minutes later Kate walked into the room with a towel wrapped around her head.

Kate was one of the council's lead data analysts and worked in the central records office. Computer systems were a lifelong passion of hers, and with the support of her parents, it was a journey that Kate had started from a very young age. After graduating from senior school, she went on to study computer science, which not only broadened her knowledge of software, but of hardware also.

"Hey you." Kate said as she caught sight of her husband.

A few centimetres shorter than Hewson, Kate had black shoulder length hair, brown eyes and a slender figure that was sustained by regular, if not entirely willing trips to the gym.

"Hey. Thanks for the coffee."

"You're welcome. So what did Rebecca want to see you about?"

"This and that!" Hewson said rolling his eyes.

"Wants you to give another briefing does she?"

"However did you guess?" Hewson replied, sinking back into the armchair. "I was hoping that after my last half assed effort maybe I wouldn't be given the floor again so soon."

"You're not that lucky." Kate replied before retreating back to the bedroom.

Returning his attention to the laptop, Hewson's hands moved rapidly over the keyboard until the crest for the United Republic of Mars appeared on the screen. Entering his social ID, Hewson gained access to the government archive. Now into the restricted files, he scanned the titles of fifty or more folders until he found what he was looking for. Not wanting to blind the council with science, the file he chose simply outlined the project's proposal and principle methodology. The way he looked at it, if he was asked any technical questions, then he could blind with science and probably get a little perverse pleasure from the fact that only a handful of people in the room would have even the slightest clue what the hell he was talking about.

Picking up his apple and the remains of his coffee, Hewson headed for the bathroom, his thoughts drifting back to his conversation-come-lecture with Harrison.

He didn't like to admit it, but Harrison had hit the nail on the head. He did want more than the Sanctuary could offer him. He wanted fresh challenges and the chance to see new worlds, but until now he just hadn't been able to freely admit it to himself. The bond he'd had with his Father had been strong, and after his death, he'd felt duty bound to continue his work, though now for the first time in his life he was starting to see that perhaps there was something more, something that he needed for himself.

After an all too brief shower and a shave so rapid that he risked losing facial tissue, Hewson went into the bedroom and threw on a pair of beige trousers and a light green collared shirt. He then sat down on the edge of the bed next to Kate.

"Sorry I missed breakfast." Hewson said, nuzzling the nape of his wife's neck. "I should be free for lunch if you want to meet up?"

"That'd be nice." Kate said, playfully swatting Hewson away, so she could continue to apply her makeup.

"It's a date then."

Chapter 3: Pathfinder

Truth be-known, it wasn't the idea of the briefing or his fellow council members that made Hewson feel uncomfortable, it was more the building itself that put him on edge.

In an attempt to preserve some of Earth's history it had been decided that the council building would be built to resemble a town hall from the 19th century, though due to the lack of materials, almost all of the building, including the interior, had been made from stone. This coupled with the wrought iron window frames, doors and fittings, gave it a most forbidding appearance and in Hewson's opinion, made it resemble something from the dark ages.

The council chamber itself was equally out of time and unashamedly gothic. Sleek high backed benches lined three sides of the room and in front of each stood three two metre long stone tables. The only foreign object that reminded you that you were in the 22nd century was the three metre wide monitor at the far end of the circular chamber.

The first time Hewson had walked out into the centre of that stone flagged floor, he'd felt like he was standing before the Spanish inquisition, faced on all sides with what looked like sacrificial altars. With spotlights tracking your every movement and the assembled council scrutinising your every word, it was not a place dear to his heart. In fact if he ever went to hell and was invited to a social gathering, he was quite sure that the dark lord's sitting room would be practically identical, albeit with a roaring fireplace and perhaps a picture rail.

As Hewson walked up the stairs and down the entrance corridor, adrenaline started to well in his stomach, causing his _breakfast_ of coffee and apple to repeat on him. Confident that no one would have arrived as yet, Hewson released some of his nervous energy by barging his way through the heavy iron doors, though as the doors flew open, they crashed loudly against the metal framework. To his horror Hewson saw all too late that the council were in fact already assembled and Harrison was heading out to the centre of the chamber to begin proceedings.

With all eyes now on Hewson, all he could do was make his apologies, turn a lighter shade of crimson and make his way to his seat.

From the lectern, Harrison glanced across at Hewson and smiled, before turning back to address the council.

"My friends. Thank you for convening at such short notice. It does my heart good to see the entire council assembled for the first time this year. Let me start by telling you that you're here today at the request of Joanna Davies."

Harrison's comments stirred the council into quiet excitement. Like any great figurehead, Harrison had perfect timing and an almost supernatural ability to captivate her audience, holding them spellbound and hanging off her every word. Harrison then continued.

"I know some of you are aware of the experiments being carried out on Ashen 2 and of their significance, but for those of you who're not, let me just say that the events of the next hour could have incredible importance for us all."

Even now when Hewson heard the name Ashen 2, he couldn't help but feel a sense of bitter disappointment, as eight years ago Ashen 2 had been identified as having an atmosphere almost identical to Earth. It had been a prime candidate for a permanent colony, that was until the science council and the military had a rather major disagreement about 'priorities'.

"Professor Hewson will now give a preliminary briefing, after which with any luck, we should receive a live feed from Professor Davies courtesy of our new deep space relay station. Professor?"

Once Harrison had cleared the stage, Hewson approached the lectern. Quickly he accessed the file he'd prepared on his laptop which appeared on the video display behind him and also on the smaller displays built into each of the stone tables.

Already he could feel the glare of the spotlights on him and his heart rate accelerating. Hitting the microphone a couple of times with his index finger, Hewson timidly began.

"Faster than light flight is one of our greatest accomplishments, but as we know it is not without risk, and the resources required to maintain our fleet is considerable."

Even after his first sentence Hewson could feel hostility ebbing from certain members of the council. And it was at that point he caught sight of Admiral Ryuki Yoshida and Captain William Sorrenstam. Neither one looked thrilled by his comments, so he did his best to blank them before continuing.

"Pathfinder was commissioned to find an alternative mode of interstellar travel. One that would be more sustainable, safer and more environmentally sound. Over the last five years there's been two areas of research. The first was refining our current technology, which yielded some significant advances in long range communications, though due to the structural limitations of our current class of vessel, this didn't get past the test phase. The second option was designing a space bridge, which put simply, is a gateway between two points in space and time, and this is what Joanna Davies and her team have been working on for the last two years. In theory, a space bridge would allow us to open a window from our galaxy to the next. There wouldn't be any restriction on range with this technology, but for safe application, exact target co-ordinates would be essential. If proven viable, Pathfinder would not be an engine for discovery, at least not to begin with, but it could be an invaluable method of mass transit, and ultimately bring the stars closer for us all."

"Which is all well and good until someone ends up floating in space." Sorrenstam said, his words echoing around the room, stopping Hewson dead in his tracks.

Hewson only knew Sorrenstam by reputation. Back on Earth he had originally been a Special Forces commander who had later become heavily involved in the Starglider project. Like Thorpe, he was in his middle fifties, and as his name suggested, Sorrenstam had an altogether Scandinavian appearance. Standing at almost two metres, he was barrel-chested, with tightly cropped blonde hair and was definitely not a person you wanted to be on the wrong side of.

Luckily for Hewson, Harrison was quick to intervene.

"For anyone who is not familiar with our fleet commander, please allow me to introduce Captain William Sorrenstam. And please don't worry Captain I'm sure you'll not be out of a job any time soon."

Once again the room responded well to Harrison's deft touch, acknowledging her comment with a short outbreak of laughter. Sorrenstam was just about to fire back when Yoshida cut him off.

"Captain Sorrenstam has raised a valid point Professor, what would the potential safety hazard be for a piece of equipment like this?"

"The only real risk would be loss of power whilst someone was in transit, though from my understanding the singularity generator has a triple redundant backup. So if power was lost, even for a fraction of a second, an alternate supply would cut in automatically, giving the person in transit time to complete their passage safely."

"I see." Yoshida said calmly.

Hewson could almost feel Yoshida's cold stare penetrate his mind and struggled to keep eye contact. It was obvious he had no intention of letting the matter lie.

"Of course Professor, there is also the potential security risk if this device were to fall into the hands of terrorists, shall we say?"

Those few words once again cut Hewson short. He knew very well what Yoshida was referring to.

Eight years ago, when the Starglider project had begun, for reasons beyond Hewson's understanding, everything had been classified top secret, and no civilian scientist had been given access.

After space trials, Yoshida succeeded in persuading the council that only military personnel should have access to either of the two prototype ships, the Cleopatra and the Independence.

Fourteen months later and after some very intense debates, the Starglider project was finally de-classified and civilians were granted limited access. However it soon became clear that the scientific fraternity had set their sights somewhat higher. They wanted a ship of their own for exploration and research. As always they'd made their argument to the council in an eloquent, logical and amiable manner.

By far the most vocal on the subject had been Marcus Tennison, a brilliant and charismatic astronomer who had been a very close friend of Hewson's Father.

Tennison had long thought that the Carallan Nebula held more than one planet capable of supporting life. The council had had very little room to manoeuvre with Tennison, as the data he had compiled had been practically irrefutable. However at the time, light speed technology and long range probes where still very much in their infancy and from the confines of the Sanctuary, Tennison had been unable to get a detailed enough scan of either of the planet's oceans or land masses to substantiate his theory, however based on the rest of his research and their proximity to the Carallan sun, it was highly likely that one or both of the planets supported life. However it proved to be a bet that the council weren't willing to back. Tennison had argued his point time and time again, but had always received the same response. The council agreed that the quality of the data brought before them definitely warranted further investigation, but they were also strongly of the opinion that for the foreseeable future, the resources required for launching a long term mission would be put to better use domestically.

Tennison had thought the council narrow minded and as usual, guilty of missing the bigger picture. To him the logic of finding another planet capable of supporting the colony, should anything catastrophic occur, was of paramount importance. He had based his entire life's work on mapping the neighbouring star systems and knew that the Carallan Nebula held the best possible hope for another inhabitable world.

As it turned out, it was to be a belief that Tennison was willing to bet his life on.

After his fifth appeal had been rejected, Tennison's final solution was as dramatic as it was reckless. Along with twelve other 'believers', Tennison had planned and carried out the theft of one of the prototype Stargliders, the Independence, after which they'd departed for the Carallan Nebula. They all knew it was a one way trip, but such was their belief in Tennison, they'd gone regardless of the consequences.

After much deliberation and to Yoshida's eternal disgust, the council decided that they could not risk dispatching the Cleopatra, their one remaining prototype, to hunt down Tennison. But then five weeks later they'd received a looped transmission from the Independence's flight recorder, confirming she'd been struck by a meteorite, destroying the ship and almost certainly killing all hands. To this day, Tennison and the others were still branded as traitors and the whole incident had left relations between the science council and the military strained to put it very mildly.

When a mission was finally launched three years later, Ashen 2 had proved to be all that Tennison had promised and much, much more.

In addition to its natural beauty and abundance of surface and aquatic life, high resolution scans of the mountain ranges in the Northern hemisphere revealed a vast and rich seam of minerals, and it was at the foot of these mountains that a small colony was established to mine the ores.

In the eighteen months that followed however, the planet suffered increasingly violent meteorite bombardment, which brought with it storms that were comparable to what the Earth had endured. After investigation, it transpired that the devastation was due to the deterioration of the Ashen moon. And so it came to pass, that after less than two years of colonisation, Ashen 2 was evacuated and left to the hands of the creator.

Six months after the evacuation order had been given, the orbit of the moon had somehow stabilised, leaving scientists perplexed, and left wondering if in fact the occurrence had been part of a natural cycle. To many, Ashen 2 had been seen as the new Earth, and among the more spiritual, its continued existence had made a convincing argument for the divine.

As Hewson's thoughts drifted back to the present, neither he nor Harrison could fill the deathly silence that Yoshida's venomous comment had caused, which spoke volumes to all present, militant or otherwise. It seemed clear that Yoshida had been waiting patiently for years to play this trump card and it had worked like a charm. Once again he had his hands on a political bulldozer, one which he would no doubt use to undermine the science council and make things extremely difficult for Harrison.

Rachel Heskey, one of Harrison's most trusted aides, came to their rescue and broke the silence.

"Director, we're receiving a signal from the relay station." Heskey said with her left hand on an ear piece. "It's Professor Davies."

"Thank-you Rachel, put her through please." Harrison replied.

The view screen at the far end of the room flickered and then Joanna Davies appeared, a smile firmly fixed on her face.

Perched on the edge of her desk, Davies wore a red cocktail dress which complimented her powerfully built frame. Though not obvious to the assembled council, Davies detested dressing up for formal occasions. Harrison however, knew her well enough to see past her seemingly calm exterior, and couldn't help smiling in acknowledgement. This was after all probably only one of five times she'd ever seen Davies wear anything other than a lab coat.

Along with over sixty percent of the population, Davies had completed her primary and secondary education within the classrooms of the Sanctuary. It had been quite obvious by her fifth birthday that she possessed a dazzling intellect, as her level of reading and writing was at least three years beyond that of her fellow students. Due to her advanced development, she had attended classes with older children, Hewson among them, and to the delight of her teachers, Davies completed all of her compulsory education and exams by the time she was ten, all with the highest distinction. Thanks to the Sanctuary's sophisticated multi-media archives, higher education had always been available. Davies however had shown very little interest in any subject other than quantum physics, so Harrison had made sure she'd received as much tuition as possible from the most eminent scientists in the field.

"Joanna. It's good to see you." Harrison said with genuine affection.

"Well you can put that one down to the new relay station and I'm glad they finally got the damn thing working. I was getting really bored of those one way conversations." Davies replied.

Harrison laughed in acknowledgement as did a number of the council members.

"And thank you for adhering to Martian time. It must be pushing 2700hrs there?"

"Yeah something like that." Davies said. "You'd think that after two years I'd be used to these twenty nine hour days."

"A blessing and a curse I'm sure." Harrison stated.

"Sometimes in slightly less equal increments." Davies replied, whilst brushing a strand of dark brown hair away from her elegant olive features.

"I'm sure." Harrison replied.

Davies' smile then faded, and a far more professional behaviour manifested.

"We did it Rebecca. We opened a stable singularity."

Harrison stared at Davies in silence for a moment. Not knowing how else to respond, Harrison put her hands together and applauded. Shortly thereafter, the vast majority of the room joined in, providing Joanna Davies with the first and last standing ovation of her life.

After Davies had dropped the bombshell, Harrison waited patiently for the room to settle and then turned back to the view screen.

"It was beautiful Rebecca. Those eighteen seconds justified all of our efforts for the last two years."

"We had no idea you were so close." Harrison said stammering slightly.

"Neither did we." Davies replied. "We'd been working on a new set of field harmonics for the last two weeks and last night we got lucky."

"What data have you recorded so far?"

"I've just sent you a complete log of yesterday's findings."

Harrison shook her head, still overwhelmed by the gravity of the moment. "I don't know what to say. What's your next move?"

"Well, the next phase of testing will be far longer in duration and our target coordinates will be a few kilometres from the compound. If all goes well, then by the end of the month we'll be ready to send through an organic test cylinder, though after that we'll need the council to sanction any further experimentation."

"Of course." Harrison said, nodding in agreement. "I take it your staff are still out celebrating?"

"Ah yes. I think I may be mothering a few weary souls later today, but I think they've earned a hangover."

Harrison laughed, but could plainly see how exhausted Davies was, so she smoothly wrapped up their conversation in one sentence.

"OK then. I think we've kept you from your bed long enough. We'll speak again in seven days."

"I look forward to it. See you then Rebecca. Davies out."

As soon as the view screen went blank the council erupted into a maelstrom of fragmented conversations and gesticulations.

Hewson was beginning to feel like he'd been thrown to the wolves. Being in such close proximity to so many hysterical politicians pretty much reconfirmed his view that the council chamber was indeed the last refuge of the damned, and he felt himself looking longingly over at the exit.

As the noise levels continued to increase, Harrison's customary patience dissolved and in an act that was completely out of character, she made only one demand.

"SILENCE!"

Harrison held the gaze of the entire room for what seemed like an eternity and only after she was quite sure that she had everyone's undivided attention did she continue, but her face now had an obvious look of outrage.

"I will not allow these proceedings to be tainted and de-valued by petty bickering. Now if any of you have any genuine concerns about what we've just heard, then let's hear them, but one at a time." Harrison's voice sounded like iron and no one made the mistake of challenging her.

Hewson noticed that the only person in the room that harboured anything even close to a look of defiance was Yoshida. He wasn't sure if that made him a fool or someone he should perhaps take more seriously.

As Yoshida continued to stare at Harrison, an insincere smile appeared on his face.

"Rebecca we're all in awe of this magnificent breakthrough, however in the wrong hands this research could easily be used as a weapon. For instance, what if someone were to transport a bomb onto one of our ships, or even inside the Sanctuary itself? The ramifications could be disastrous."

"What are you suggesting?" Harrison replied.

"I'm suggesting that any potential risk is neutralised. We should deploy troops immediately and have at least battalion strength stationed on Ashen 2 at all times."

Yoshida's statement was crisp and precise, each word punctuated to perfection for added effect. Murmurs of approval could be heard throughout the chamber and even Hewson had to admit that in principle it was a sound suggestion. Though knowing Yoshida's rather dubious track record, he knew that the deployment of troops would only be the first of many insidious moves to gain full control of the project.

"I agree that a certain degree of security is very much in order, however what I'm not about to do is turn the compound into a permanent Garrison Town." Harrison replied now addressing the entire council. "I think we all need time to reflect and digest what we've seen here today. We'll re-convene this time tomorrow for a more thorough debate."

As Chairperson, Harrison had the power to adjourn the council session, so as soon as she had finished her sentence, she reached into her jacket pocket and pressed a button on her key fob which sounded the double chimes, signifying the end of the session.

Talking amongst themselves for a moment, the councillors then got up and filed out of the room.

Yoshida however stood his ground and stared at Harrison for an overly long and decidedly unfriendly duration, before walking away.

Ignoring Yoshida, Harrison walked over to Hewson who had witnessed the cold and silent exchange.

"He was on form today." Harrison said through partially clenched teeth.

Hewson stood up and straightened his shirt before answering.

"Yoshida has a lot of enemies. I can't see him getting things all his own way, not like last time."

"Well, we'll see won't we?" Harrison replied almost nonchalantly. "Anyway, right now all I want is to be able to enjoy a quiet lunch. Care to join me?"

"I would do, but I promised Kate I'd have lunch with her." Hewson answered honestly.

"That's okay, I don't mind her coming along. She can pay." Harrison added, already making her way to the exit.

Chapter 4: Respite

Throughout the Sanctuary there were fourteen places you could go to eat, but in the main habitat there was only a choice of three. The smallest but probably the most frequented was Café Rouge. It had a definite European flavour and charm about it and was decorated in vibrant shades of red and purple. Mostly it was a place where you could go and have your coffee in comfort and maybe if your food ration credits would stretch to it, one of their exquisite pastries. It was also a popular choice for business appointments if, as per normal, there were no meeting rooms available.

Next to Café Rouge was Hank's, which was a traditionally styled lounge bar. Albeit instead of comfortable mahogany furnishings there were cleverly painted and impressively detailed moulded plastics and metal work, the end result of which gave the place an all-together homely feel. Hewson and Kate often came to Hank's for an afterhours drink but rarely ate, as they mainly served snack foods.

Ocean View however, was twice the size of the other two establishments and boasted the most extensive menu of all, including an enviable reputation for being the Sanctuary's only true restaurant. For most people, it took several weeks to save up enough food ration credits to be able to enjoy a meal there.

As for Ocean View's name, that always brought a smile to Hewson's face, as it was certainly optimistic. The building's exterior was unremarkable, but the interior was a different proposition altogether. Inside it was decorated with a pallet of beautiful earth tones and a variety of multi-cultural artefacts. As soon as you walked inside you were confronted by two beautiful Turner seascapes, and it didn't stop there. Further along the corridor were other equally rare sights, including paintings by Kahlo, Kandinsky and even Van Gogh. There were also sculptures by Nampeyo and Chua and furniture by Charles Rene-Macintosh.

On a personal level, the furniture was more to Hewson's tastes, his favourite piece being a high back-chair made entirely of glass.

Talking amongst themselves, Hewson, Kate and Harrison approached the entrance to Ocean View, though as they walked inside it was clear that two of their number were looking weary.

Walking up to the bar, Harrison ordered drinks for everyone, but not without protest from Kate, though after some minor persuasion she relented and asked for a Bucks Fizz, while Hewson chose a Bloody Mary.

Taking their drinks through to the dining area, they ordered a light lunch that came in the form of a rustic vegetable soup, served with an approximation of a farmhouse loaf. Though the bread itself was not the genuine article they enjoyed their meal nonetheless and washed it down with a glass of synthesised red wine.

Harrison then called the waiter over to order coffee, though before she placed her hand back under the table, Hewson noticed it was shaking slightly.

"I'll be back in a moment." Kate said, getting up from the table and walking in the direction of the toilets.

"Everything OK?" Hewson asked Harrison, gesturing to her hand. "And don't tell me it's just Yoshida getting to you."

For a second Harrison appeared annoyed at Hewson's remark, but then her face softened. "My doctor tells me I may be showing the early stages of Parkinson's." Harrison said slowly, clearly finding it difficult to actually say the words. "It may be nothing but she's running some tests and I've been told to cut out caffeine and any alcohol."

Hewson looked down at the empty tumbler and then back at Harrison.

"I know. But it's rather hard to stop the habits of a lifetime in just one week. It's a strange thing Rob being faced with your own mortality. You can't help but reflect on your life and the lives of those around you, so I apologise for the motherly spiel earlier."

"Does anyone else know?" Hewson asked tenderly.

"Just you, me and the lord above, and for the time being, I'd appreciate it if it could stay that way?"

*****

After finishing their lunch, Harrison took her leave and so with time to kill, Hewson and Kate went for a stroll.

"So the meeting wasn't too much fun huh?" Kate enquired.

Hewson, who'd been thinking long and hard about Harrison's situation, had barely registered what Kate had said and now turned round to her with a blank expression.

"Everything OK?" Kate asked, an edge of concern to her voice.

"Sorry I was light years away." Hewson sighed.

"Yeah I can see that. What's up with you and Rebecca?" Kate asked.

"What can I say? All the usual suspects are making life interesting, as only _they_ can." Hewson said, feeling uncomfortable about omitting Harrison's condition.

" _They_ meaning Yoshida?" Kate said perceptively.

"Amongst others."

"So what's the deal?"

"Suffice it to say, yet again the military are about to seriously screw with the advances of modern science."

Bound by the official secrets act, Hewson hadn't been able to tell Kate anything about Pathfinder, though in a place as relatively small as the Sanctuary, keeping a secret was indeed a difficult thing to do. In some cases this seemingly easy task proved impossible, therefore only a select few had full and unrestricted access to the Sanctuary's data archive. Even then, some of the information existed only as hard copy, locked away in a biometrically sealed vault.

"This is to do with whatever Joanna and her team have been working on, isn't it?"

As per usual, there was no fooling Kate, so Hewson didn't try to.

"The long and the short of it is that Yoshida is pushing for troops to be sent to Ashen 2, which is fine but it won't stop there." Hewson was really quite angry now and his voice began to waver. "If Yoshida gets his way then after a couple of months the whole project will end up being under military jurisdiction and mark my words, the whole thing will go up in smoke! And naturally, science will be to blame!"

Kate put her hand on Hewson's shoulder and pulled him close to her.

"Hey, it's beyond your control. There's no sense in getting too fired up. Besides, you know what Rebecca's like. She'll give Yoshida just enough rope to hang himself, well metaphorically anyway."

Hewson laughed at the idea, though not in the metaphorical sense. He of course agreed that Pathfinder needed to be kept secure, but the truth of the matter was that Yoshida and his band of power hungry morons would most likely try to prevent civilian access altogether, or at least until all military applications had been thoroughly exhausted, which could take years. Still Kate was right. Harrison would do her best to outmanoeuvre Yoshida.

Leaving the main habitat, Hewson and Kate opted for a more relaxing environment, so after a quick detour past the docking ring and the hordes of service personnel, it wasn't long before the soothing sights and sounds of the botanical gardens were washing away the evils of the morning.

Once they'd walked across the playing fields, they continued up the winding path. So much had already happened throughout the course of the morning, it didn't seem possible to Hewson that only five hours had passed since he was last here. Now as he thought again about Pathfinder, he felt a nervous excitement, though it was overshadowed by what Harrison had told him.

Hewson had always unquestioningly and unfalteringly followed the examples set by his Mother and Father and though he shared their views and desires for the Sanctuary and for Mars, he had never really done anything purely for himself and even now the notion felt alien to him. Kate had never openly spoken about going off world, but he was fairly sure that she would take the opportunity with both hands if given the chance. He suspected the only reason Kate had remained silent on the issue was because she knew how committed he was to his family's legacy. It wasn't like they had any marital _issues_ to iron out, but perhaps a few years off world was exactly what they both needed? Maybe then they could review their life's priorities and then who knows, after a couple of years, they might return to the Sanctuary and start a family, or settle down in whatever corner of the galaxy they ended up in.

Having reached the monument, they took the pathway that led to the cemetery. Surrounded on all sides by a metre high stone wall, the cemetery had an old world charm about it, and with the addition of hedgerows just beyond, it offered a good degree of privacy for any visitors.

Towering over them at the end of the path were the Cemetery's black iron gates. Just like the council chamber, the gates had been forged and hand crafted from good Martian stock and as a tradition, the coat of arms of each person interred within were displayed on the beautifully crafted and ornate metalwork.

As Hewson and Kate entered the hallowed grounds, the sweet fragrance of Cyclamens and Chrysanthemums filled the air. Walking together, hand in hand, they followed a path that ran through the centre of the cemetery and as they reached the far side, they stopped by a small plot that had only one tombstone. Hewson would often find himself here when he needed time to think, though today, neither of them had given any real thought as to a destination, this was just where they ended up. Hewson put one hand on top of his parent's tombstone and held Kate's hand firmly with the other.

As much as any physical attraction, when Hewson and Kate had first met in Café Rouge four years ago, they'd felt completely at peace with each other, sharing many recreational and vocational interests, and to Hewson's delight, a very similar taste in music. Kate's Mother had died during childbirth. Similarly, Hewson had lost his Mother many years before as a result of an undiagnosed heart defect. Their Fathers had also died within six months of each other, Kate's succumbing to cancer and Hewson's Father from a fatal stroke, so in a way they had been each other's therapy, and in talking about their parents it had allowed them to fully come to terms with their passing.

A few plots away from them, James Thorpe appeared from behind a large memorial, pushing a heavily laden wheel barrow. He was whistling cheerfully to himself, and smiled as he saw his friends. Leaving the wheel barrow where it was, he straightened his back and walked over.

Thorpe had been tending the botanical gardens for as long as Hewson could remember and had designed and landscaped many of the features himself. They'd always been fairly regular patrons of the cemetery and it was there that they'd first spoken to Thorpe. Respecting their privacy Thorpe hadn't said very much in the beginning. Eventually though their conversations had become more of a two way affair and laid the groundwork for a long and enduring friendship.

Thorpe was a thin and energetic man of fifty two and thanks to a life of exercise and a head of strawberry blonde hair, he looked younger.

"A good afternoon to you both." Thorpe said with his unmistakably Scottish accent.

"Keeping busy?" Hewson enquired with a smile.

"Just tidying the place through really. Though later I fancy taking about a metre off the top of that pine over there." Thorpe said, gesturing to the largest of the three trees that lined the back wall of the cemetery.

"If you're free you're more than welcome to lend a hand?" Thorpe said with a smile, baiting Hewson.

"That sounds like a great idea." Kate said. "You're always saying how you never get the chance to have a really good workout these days."

"Sadly I do have a prior engagement." Hewson grinned. Well accustomed to being the butt of the occasional joke. "Albeit not a particularly exciting one."

"Got your head in the books again huh?" Thorpe asked.

"You guessed it, but maybe tonight we can meet up for a drink?" Hewson said. "And I think Rebecca will be making an appearance as well."

"Sounds like a plan then. And our fearless leader certainly owes me a pint or two." Thorpe grinned.

Chapter 5: Reflection

After speaking to the council Joanna Davies had been too excited to sleep, instead she'd gone back to her room, thrown caution to the wind and used a two-day ration pack of coffee to brew an entire pot.

Supremely bored, Davies stared at the wall, coffee in hand for ten minutes before deciding to go out for a walk. The site in which the compound stood was naturally occurring due to the high concentration of non-permeable rock. So when building work had begun all that'd been necessary was to lay shallow foundations, add a drainage trench and bring in the pre-fabricated units.

Starting from the top of the site, a hundred metres short of the mine entrance, was the main research facility. This was then followed by the infirmary, the halls of residence and other smaller outbuildings. And at the bottom of the slope, shrouded in the shadow of the mighty hardwoods, was the Chapel and the senior staff's quarters, amongst them Davies' accommodation.

Being situated at the foot of a mountain gave the compound everything it needed. There was fresh spring water, building materials and natural protection from the weather. As a precautionary measure, six months ago, Davies and her team had re-located their fusion reactor inside the mountain, making use of a small network of caves that had been used by the miners as a storage facility. If the planet was ever again plagued by the elements, the caves would also serve as an emergency shelter. Of course with recent developments, filing the building plans with the Sanctuary had not been too high on Davies' _to do_ list.

Thick rainforest surrounded the compound to the South and East and provided an exquisite backdrop. Being the true professionals they were, rarely did the colonists venture in to the forest without cataloguing a new species of plant or insect, which Davies often joked, was the curse and blessing of the scientific mind.

In comparison, the forest to the West of the compound was much thinner and led to an area of open grass land which ran on for several miles before giving way to a vast river network, rivalling anything that had existed on Earth.

Davies still wore only her cocktail dress and after the oppressive humidity of the day, the cool night air was exactly what she needed. Walking along the pathway that ran through the centre of the small hamlet, Davies could just make out the bulk of the mountain through the darkness. As she laboured towards it, Davies' calf muscles burned, though she was in good shape and carried on at a pace that would have shamed most people ten years her junior.

After reaching the mine entrance, Davies scaled a small flight of stairs that led to an observation platform. At the top of the stairs were three benches that lined the front face of the platform. Sitting on the middle bench, Davies looked out across the compound. From here on a clear day it was possible to see for twenty miles out across the canopy. Tonight though the area was flooded with an acidic yellow glare from the compound's low energy lighting. Davies had left instruction to have the lights switched off by 0200hrs, but with the amount of alcohol everyone had consumed, unsurprisingly the task had been forgotten. Though if switching off the lights was the only misdemeanour to occur, then they were in pretty good shape. And besides, her team had put in some outrageous hours for the last few months and deserved to revel in their success. Right now a new chapter in human history was being written. This was their time.

After another ten minutes of quiet contemplation, Davies started to feel the onset of fatigue, so took a slow walk back to her quarters. She knew they had another physically demanding day in front of them and if she wanted to wake up with something resembling a clear head, she needed at least five hours sleep.

As Davies went back inside, the air was stale with the lingering odour of coffee. Once she'd pulled open a window, she slipped off her dress, placed it back on its hanger, and then banished it to the back of her wardrobe.

She then unfastened her hair and threw herself onto her bed. From the moment her head touched her pillow, Davies was off into a completely untroubled sleep, blissfully unaware of the horrors that the coming week would herald.

Chapter 6: A Breakdown in Communication

In a deep sleep of his own and beyond the touch of reality, Hewson lay crashed out in bed with Kate curled up beside him. An almost complete silence enveloped the house, the only slight disturbance coming from the air conditioning as it occasionally thrummed into life.

Without warning Hewson was shot back into the waking world by the penetrating note of the alarm clock. He'd been working until 2300hrs the previous evening reviewing the latest atmospheric data, and needed to provide Harrison with an update for the day's council session. Now as he lay in bed listening to the incessant tone of the alarm, he felt like he hadn't slept at all. Since he was up to date with his workload, Hewson decided to email the report to Harrison and take the morning off.

Kate on the other hand did have to be at work, so once she'd rolled out of bed, she turned off the alarm and closed the bedroom door, leaving Hewson to sleep as she took a shower.

In a semi-conscious state it wasn't long before random thoughts started firing through Hewson's synapses and far sooner than he would have liked, they gravitated toward work.

It had been almost two weeks since Joanna Davies' briefing and in that time, Hewson had received very little feedback from Harrison or anyone else in the council about Pathfinder. Davies had been scheduled to make contact thirteen days ago and since then council sessions had been postponed, then rearranged only to be cancelled completely. Something was definitely up, and the almost conspiratorial silence confirmed it.

Most likely there'd been more problems with the long range relay station again, but for some irrational reason, Hewson's instincts told him otherwise.

Having finished in the shower Kate re-entered the bedroom and threw on some clothes.

Hewson though, who was now completely awake, had other ideas and leapt up at Kate, pulling her close to him, kissing her soap scented neck with a powerful desire. Hewson's desire however was no match for Kate's determination to be at work on time. So after an all too brief reciprocation, Kate pushed Hewson to one side and continued dressing.

Admitting defeat, Hewson walked down the hallway to the kitchen and made a cup of coffee for Kate and grabbed himself a glass of water.

With some free time on his hands, he decided to take a long overdue trip to the gym, but first he needed to take care of business. Walking into the lounge, he fired up his laptop and wrote a brief memo to Harrison. He then attached the report and hit send.

"So what are your plans for the day?" Kate said as she entered the kitchen.

"Well I'm trying to work up the enthusiasm to go to the gym."

"Tell you what, I'll swap you. You can go to work and I'll go to the gym. Deal?" Kate said.

"Mmm. No Deal." Hewson replied, draining the last of his water.

After the two had embraced, Kate kissed Hewson on the forehead and looked over to the window and noticed three of her colleagues walking past.

"Gotta go." Kate said and then ran out of the door to catch up with her friends.

Hewson watched Kate until she was out of sight and then went back inside, retreating to the bedroom. Throwing on some jogging bottoms and a white T-shirt, Hewson tended to his early morning ablutions and grabbed a towel from the rack. Striding back to the front door he pulled on his running shoes and groaned as he tried to touch his toes. The tightness of his hamstrings were a poignant reminder of just how long it had been since he'd last exercised.

*****

Before hitting the gym Hewson normally ran ten laps of the main habitat and docking ring, though today, since this was his first outing in several months, he thought he'd spare himself some of the physical torture by completing only five. During his last lap, he saw Sorrenstam off in the distance, standing in front of one of the shuttlecraft.

He appeared to be having a rather heated argument with somebody, but due to Sorrenstam's considerable size, Hewson couldn't see past him to see who it was. As he drew level, Hewson looked over his shoulder and was surprised to see James Thorpe standing there. Strangely though it was Thorpe that was unleashing a verbal assault on Sorrenstam. Hewson couldn't hear what Thorpe was saying, but it was the most animated he 'd ever seen him and perhaps even stranger Sorrenstam seemed to be taking all he had to say without retaliation. As Hewson ran past, Thorpe immediately changed his demeanour and waved him over, leaving Sorrenstam silently fuming.

"Morning Rob, getting yourself back in shape?"

"Trying to." Hewson replied, eyeing Sorrenstam inquisitively. "Everything OK here?"

"Yeah no problem here. Isn't that right William?" Thorpe replied, looking back at Sorrenstam.

"Uh, OK... If you want to meet up later, Kate and I will be heading over to Hank's at eight?"

"That sounds grand. I'll see you both then." And with that Thorpe turned his attention back to Sorrenstam.

Taking the hint, Hewson continued on his way. When he eventually reached the gym, his chest still felt a little tight, making him glad he'd opted for fewer laps.

Inside, he switched on the strip lighting. The back wall of the gym was covered entirely by mirror, and in the mirror was a reflection Hewson didn't entirely recognise. The figure looking back at him looked deflated and beaten. Again he thought of the conversation he'd had with Harrison. Had he allowed himself to become consumed by his work?

Positioning himself on one of the floor mats, Hewson started a series of press-ups. There was a time when he could do more than fifty in one sitting, but these days he was lucky if he could manage thirty. He was far from old, but gone were the days when he could neglect his fitness for weeks on end and then pick up right from where he'd left off, so in a rebellious form of self-denial, he pushed himself and completed an extra five.

When he was finished he jumped up and felt that familiar rush of blood flowing through him, a little of his younger self re-emerging. He then moved on to the rowing machine and started a ten minute interval program.

Within a few minutes Hewson's body began to feel a little looser, his mind however jumped from thoughts of Joanna Davies and Pathfinder, to whatever it was that Thorpe and Sorrenstam had been arguing about. As the interval ended, the door to the gym opened and Harrison walked in.

"Morning Rob. Sorry to interrupt you." Harrison said solemnly. "I thought you should know that there's been an emergency council session called for 1500hrs this afternoon. I don't think I need to tell you what it's regarding?"

"Still no word from Joanna?" Hewson replied anxiously.

"A rescue mission is being planned as we speak, the specifics of which will be finalised this afternoon."

Hewson nodded in acknowledgement, his worst fears realised.

"The council will need your input Rob." Harrison added.

"Of course."

"Listen I'm sorry to leave abruptly, but I've got a few things I need to take care of. I'll see you at 1430hrs." And before Hewson could reply, Harrison was through the door and gone.

Hewson had spent endless hours studying the technical schematics for Pathfinder, so there really wasn't anything new to be gleaned by going over it all again now. Though erring on the side of caution, he decided to cut short his trip to the gym and return home to prepare. At least now he had something he could turn his full attention to.

*****

After showering, Hewson grabbed his laptop and headed for the botanical gardens.

Sitting down on the bench underneath the skylight, it had taken Hewson only a few minutes to put together some bullet points for the briefing. Now he found himself staring blankly at his laptop, far more interested in finding Thorpe. Jumping up, he carried his computer under his arm and took the path that led to the cemetery.

Everyone knew that Sorrenstam was a hard ass and Hewson had seen first-hand what the man was capable of. It just seemed so unlikely that Sorrenstam would take such a verbal assault from Thorpe, unless he'd deserved it, which meant there was some history between them. Standing at the centre of the cemetery, it took only a few seconds for Hewson to confirm Thorpe's absence. Slightly dejected he took a slow walk back through the gardens and headed for the main habitat.

There was still an hour before the briefing, so Hewson stopped at Café Rouge for a much needed infusion and sat down outside in the largely deserted courtyard. A few moments later a familiar face appeared.

Diane Coolidge had been working at the Café since it had been built thirteen years ago and in all the time that Hewson had known her, she'd always seemed to have a smile on her face and today was no exception.

"Morning." Hewson said "Place seems a little quiet today?"

"Yeah, has been for the last hour or so. Though a lot of the brass were loitering around here earlier and they looked pretty serious about something? Any ideas why?" Diane asked.

Hewson smiled as he considered how best to respond. "Trust me, over the next couple of days, one way or the other, everyone's cards will be down on the table."

"Mmm. Cryptic as ever Robert. But it definitely sounds like something's up." Diane replied. "Anyway enough of the doom and gloom, what can I get you?"

"Just a cup of the black stuff please."

"One Americano coming up hon." Diane said as she moved away.

Whilst waiting for his coffee, Hewson turned his thoughts to the afternoon session and sighed. He had very little time for political rhetoric and just hoped that for the purposes of today, everyone would put away their knives and focus on the matter at hand.

Diane then reappeared with Hewson's much needed draught. With more people waiting to be served, Hewson didn't want to keep Diane for any longer than necessary, so passed across his ration card. Diane then completed the transaction and said a quick goodbye before turning her attention to the next patron.

The briefing was due to start in forty five minutes, so once Hewson had finished his coffee he took a slow walk to the council chamber. Right on cue, he spotted Harrison on the other side of the throughfare and ran over to join her.

"What is this apparition I see before me?" Harrison joked, appearing to be in far better spirits.

"If you still want me to look at the environmental controls in your apartment, you'd better cut the sarcasm." Hewson replied in good humour.

"Quite right, I make a complete retraction." Harrison said, striding confidently towards the council chamber.

Hewson was glad to see that Harrison had banished her inner demons, even if only for the time being. If anyone could conquer the mental aspects of dealing with a difficult illness, then Hewson was sure it would be Harrison.

Upon nearing the council building they both began to compose themselves for the inevitable onslaught. Unlike Hewson however, Harrison seemed to relax almost immediately, almost as if she were getting into character.

As per normal, the entrance corridor was lined with all manner of civil servants and alive with conversation. Many of the people present greeted Hewson and Harrison with a friendly smile as they walked past, though there was also a noticeable percentage that regarded them far more coldly, and a minority that apparently thought they resembled something they'd scraped off their shoe. Amongst the latter were Yoshida and Sorrenstam, who were waiting at the end of the corridor.

Neither duo looked happy to see the other, but each gave a grudging acknowledgement. Hewson and Harrison then moved swiftly in to the chamber.

To Hewson's surprise the chamber stood empty, which made him breathe a little easier.

"Just remember, today you'll be giving your briefing to whoever Yoshida has appointed to lead the mission." Harrison said, pausing briefly to measure Hewson's reaction.

Though he was nodding in agreement, Hewson was clearly stressed and demonstrated it by clenching his fists at his sides.

"Try to stay calm." Harrison continued. "And don't let yourself be drawn into an argument."

Hewson continued to nod, but after hearing Harrison's words he could feel his confidence and his antiperspirant start to dissolve. As he looked over at the door he noticed Yoshida and Sorrenstam entering the room, and behind them was James Thorpe.

Harrison allowed a couple of minutes for the room to settle and then walked out to the lectern to begin the session.

"My friends." Harrison said holding her hands up to silence the last few murmurs. "As we know communications are down between Ashen 2 and the Sanctuary. At this point the deep space relay station appears to be functioning normally, so we believe the problem originates on Ashen 2. Obviously our priority here is to ensure the safety of our friends and colleagues, so I implore you all to work with one another and put aside petty differences."

Harrison turned to Yoshida. "Admiral, who have you selected to lead the mission?"

Arrogantly, Yoshida didn't reply to Harrison, instead he turned to his left and glanced over at Thorpe.

The Scotsman smiled and then stood up to answer Harrison's question. "Well I guess that would be me then."

Hewson had known that Thorpe had been in the military, though he'd never spoken openly about his past, and Hewson had never dreamt of asking him about it. Now like everyone else in the room, he stared at Thorpe, wondering just how well he knew the man standing before him. As if sensing his uncertainty, Thorpe caught Hewson's eye and winked at him in an effort to alleviate his doubts.

"Glad to have you back in the fold again Colonel." Harrison said.

"Wish I could say the same Rebecca." Thorpe said.

"With respect sir, but who the hell are you exactly?" asked Janet Tomlinson, one of the shorter serving and more ambitious members of the council.

Tomlinson's words perfectly echoed Hewson's inner monologue and if the situation had not been so grave, he would have laughed out loud.

"This is Colonel James Thorpe." Sorrenstam barked. "He led hundreds of missions against the coalition in Afghanistan, Libya and Canada, so in answer to your question Janet, he's someone you should be showing a little more respect to."

After Sorrenstam's outburst, no-one else felt it necessary to question Thorpe's credentials.

"Admiral, I'll need to select my team after we're through here. But so far I haven't been supplied with a shred of intelligence. What exactly are we dealing with here?"

It was plain to everyone that Yoshida regarded Thorpe with some distaste. But it was only Yoshida and Harrison who knew the history that had created the bitter hatred between them.

Thorpe had started life in the military as a boy soldier in Scotland and moved on to Sandhurst at the age of eighteen where he'd learnt his trade.

Having shown a keen intellect and physical prowess, Thorpe had quickly been put forward for SAS selection and at the age of twenty two on the snow-capped peaks of the Brecon Beacons, he'd passed a particularly gruelling winter selection with flying colours, impressing even the instructing Regimental Sergeant Major .

In the years that followed Thorpe had been deployed all over the world and fought in some particularly brutal conflicts against the Coalition. By his twenty sixth birthday, he was promoted to the rank of Captain, and by thirty three, he was made a full Colonel and responsible for all anti-terrorist operations out of Hereford.

Thorpe had been taken underground before the doomsday missiles had struck by Michael Harmer, a senior military adviser to the British Army and MI5.

Harmer had known Thorpe personally for over ten years and understood all too well that his skill set was not something that could be lost to the annals of time.

When the Sanctuary had first been constructed, Harmer had put himself forward as one of the candidates for Facilities Director. Proving too strong an opponent, Harmer won by a landslide and after he'd been sworn in, he assigned Thorpe as head of security, giving him clear instruction that he was to pass on what he knew to the next generation.

With carte blanche, Thorpe enlisted men and women from many different areas throughout the Sanctuary, and naturally this had caused some ill feeling amongst the senior military staff and the council.

Yoshida, a Captain at the time, had taken great exception to having three of his best Lieutenants transferred to Thorpe's unit. When he'd confronted him, Thorpe had simply told him that if he had a problem, he needed to take it up directly with Harmer, which of course he did, only to be told in no uncertain terms, that he was to give Thorpe any and all assistance that was asked of him.

Within two years of Thorpe accepting his position, Harmer had been forced to take early retirement due to ill health and in the following election, Harmer's protégé, a much more youthful and vibrant Rebecca Harrison, had taken up the reins of power.

Through Harmer, Harrison had gotten to know Thorpe very well indeed and as per her mentor, had become a very powerful advocate for his team. Though her loyalty came at a price, as there were those who did not think there was a necessity for Thorpe's kind at all.

In particular Yoshida had tried to undermine Harrison's credibility by attacking Thorpe at every turn. Amongst other arguments, he claimed that the live fire exercises were too dangerous and far too extravagant a waste of resources.

On three separate occasions Harrison had put the matter to a vote and each time the council had ruled in favour of Thorpe, however it was during one of the live fire exercises that a member of Thorpe's team had been shot.

Though the team member had made a full recovery, Yoshida and those loyal to him had blown matters out of all proportion and after some coercion, the injured soldier had given testimony against Thorpe, which had been the final nail in his coffin.

To spare Harrison any political flak and himself any further frustration, Thorpe had resigned his post.

In a manner that could only be described as condescending, Yoshida proceeded to provide Thorpe with a high level overview, before passing the floor over to Hewson, who for the next twenty minutes talked more specifically about Pathfinder. Once he had finished, Thorpe thanked him and turned back to Yoshida.

"I'm going to need thirty men and the best on the ground intel you can give me."

Yoshida nodded in silent agreement, which was all Harrison needed to see.

Inevitably, the room came alive with fragmented conversation, with almost all eyes coming to rest on Thorpe.

Standing up, Harrison made her way back to the lectern and called the session to order.

"All senior military personnel please remain seated. Everyone else is dismissed."

As the council stood and began to file out of the room, the double chimes rang out, signifying the end of the session.

Once he'd reached the exit, Hewson made his way down the short flight of stairs and over to one of the nearby benches. Sitting down, he thought about what he wanted to ask Thorpe, but with so many questions in mind, he didn't know where to start.

Twenty minutes passed and Hewson was about to give up, when Thorpe, Sorrenstam and Yoshida exited the building.

"Thanks for the briefing Rob." Thorpe said. "I'm going to be tied up for the next couple of hours, but I'll come and find you later, OK?"

"Sure thing." Hewson replied, feeling completely out of his depth.

A few moments later Harrison appeared and walked over to Hewson.

"We've been assessing who we need for this mission and I don't think I need to tell you that you're the most qualified to provide technical support?"

"You can count on me." Hewson said calmly. It felt strange, but he actually found himself wanting this. Perhaps on some subconscious level it was because he wanted to be tested.

"Thank you." Harrison said. "Thorpe will come by your place at 1800hrs."

Hewson nodded and started composing in his mind what he would say to Kate.

"Come on we've got an hour before we need to go our separate ways. Let's go and have some lunch. I'm buying."

*****

After lunch at Ocean View and some diversionary conversation from Harrison, Hewson started to feel a little better about his situation, but as soon as he stood up, his thoughts switched back to Kate and how she was going to take the news.

Outside the restaurant Harrison gave her leave and walked away. Hewson however felt like he was moving in slow motion.

On the homeward stretch, he was so lost in his thoughts, that he didn't register Kate standing in their doorway at all.

"Hey. What's up?" Kate asked gingerly.

Chapter 7: Action

At 1800hrs, Thorpe arrived outside Hewson's house. He was wearing a jungle camouflaged uniform and over his shoulder he carried a holdall. Walking towards Hewson's front door, Thorpe placed the holdall on the ground and pressed the intercom, and a few seconds later, Hewson's silhouette rose up out of the armchair and moved across to the door.

"Hi Jim. Come on in." Hewson said cordially. "I wasn't sure exactly what I'd need to take with me?"

"All you need is yourself, some underwear, toiletries and any schematics or technical intel you can download onto that computer of yours." Thorpe replied warmly.

"That I have no problem with" Hewson replied.

Having already stowed his laptop, Hewson grabbed his own holdall from the coffee table and started to make his way to the bedroom to grab the clothes he needed.

"Rob, on a personal level you know I never intended to deceive you, right?" Thorpe said, stopping Hewson dead in his tracks.

"We're cool Jim, it's this situation that's screwed up. Don't sweat it." Hewson said, pausing at the bookcases briefly to select a couple of ancient paperbacks which went in the holdall.

"That's good to know. How's she taking it?"

"She's not best impressed, but she's doing OK!" Kate said walking into the lounge.

"Katie, I'll keep him in one piece I promise. You don't need to worry yourself."

"Jim, could you give us five minutes?"

"Absolutely." Thorpe said, with great affection. "I'll see you outside Rob."

As soon as Thorpe had closed the front door, Hewson walked over to his wife to comfort her.

"I'll be back before you know it, I promise."

"You'd better be."

After an emotional goodbye, Hewson picked up his holdall and walked outside to meet Thorpe. Making little eye contact, Hewson did his best to compose himself, but as the two men walked away in the direction of the docking ring, they heard a sharp rap on a window behind them.

Having regained some form of control, Kate stood inside the house at the bay window and waved. Hewson smiled and waved back, and continued to do so until they had walked out of sight.

"I've said it before Rob. You've got yourself a good one there."

"I know." Hewson said, only managing to find two syllables.

*****

As Hewson and Thorpe neared the docking ring the interior airlock door was open and inside the chamber was their shuttlecraft, the Dauntless.

Everyone, including the senior officers, were busy loading ammunition, medical supplies and ration packs, so grabbing the nearest crate to them, Hewson and Thorpe mucked in and joined the procession.

After fifteen minutes, the bulk of the equipment and stores had been loaded, and everyone started to board the cramped shuttlecraft.

"Rob, just to give you the heads-up." Thorpe said, remembering this was Hewson's first time off world. "We're going be buffeted around a wee bit up there, so just breathe easy and pick a spot in front of you and focus on it."

"I'll try to bear that in mind." Hewson replied.

Clambering past the rest of the team, Hewson and Thorpe made their way to the front of the ship, at which point Thorpe left Hewson to get seated, whilst he poked his head into the cockpit to speak to the pilots.

"And who do we have to fly this old crate then." Thorpe said flippantly.

"Flight officers Hendrix and Powell. Good to have you on-board, sir." Hendrix said, quick to salute Thorpe once he saw his uniform and rank.

"At ease lads. I can't say I'm overly glad to be here, but we all have our crosses to bear don't we?" Thorpe remarked. "How long until we're off?"

"Two minutes, and then it's a short ten minute hop to the Cleopatra." Hendrix replied.

"Excellent. It was very decent of William to give us the use of his own ship." Thorpe said with a smirk.

Having broken the ice nicely, Hendrix and Powell laughed at Thorpe's comment, warming to him immediately.

"I'll leave you to your business gentlemen." Thorpe said and then returned to find Hewson wrestling with his three-point harness.

"You've got it on the wrong way round." Thorpe said, attaching the side straps first. "Give that a go."

"Thanks." Hewson said weakly.

"Try to relax." Thorpe whispered into Hewson's ear. "Half of the crew, me included, puked their guts up the first time they went up in one of these things. If you think you're going to be sick, there's a bag on the back of the seat in front of you."

Hewson again nodded in appreciation, but wasn't particularly reassured.

Leaving no time to dwell on the matter any further, the exterior hatches were sealed, closing with a loud metallic thud that resonated throughout the ship.

*****

Continuing with his pre-flight checks, Hendrix switched over to internal power and as he did so the cabin lights dimmed momentarily. Then as the life support systems came online the cabin pressurised and the faint sound of re-circulated air could be heard.

"Operations, this is the Dauntless. Request permission to depart, over." Hendrix said.

"Dauntless, you are cleared for immediate departure. Good luck Lieutenant."

"Much obliged. See you guys in three weeks. Dauntless out."

Hendrix flicked a switch on the centre console and activated the ship-wide loudspeaker.

"Fasten your seatbelts ladies. We're out of here in twenty seconds."

Hendrix brought the shuttle's two sub light engines online and as he increased power the ship began to vibrate. Slowly the Dauntless backed away from the docking ring and as it did so, the power and air lines disengaged like two giant umbilical cords. Having cleared some two hundred metres, the sleek nosed craft pitched backwards until it was at sixty five degrees, and then tore away.

*****

It was like nothing Hewson had ever felt before. He was literally pinned to his seat as the small craft streaked through the Martian sky. Surprisingly though, the engine note was far quieter than he'd been expecting.

"This is fun!" Hewson yelped sarcastically. "Can't we go any faster?"

"Aye lad, we can." Thorpe replied. "But if we do whilst we're in the atmosphere, there won't be enough left of us to fill a bath tub."

Now at escape velocity the Dauntless began to shake violently, but as soon as it was free of Mars' powerful grasp, the shearing forces quickly subsided, leaving the small craft to be embraced by the silky cold vacuum of space. A moment later the Dauntless' gravitomagnetic field became active, simulating normal gravity, and it was this bizarre sensation that ultimately proved too much for Hewson's stomach to handle.

*****

Inside the cockpit Hendrix and Powell were calmly going about their business when they heard a radio transmission from the Cleopatra.

"Dauntless. Are you receiving, over?"

Instantly recognising Sorrenstam's voice, Hendrix opened a channel and responded to the hail.

"This is the Dauntless. We're reading you loud and clear sir, over."

"Then move your asses, you're behind schedule." Sorrenstam said sharply before closing communications.

Hendrix locked on to the Cleopatra's beacon and brought the ship about, accelerating smoothly. As the dropship cleared the far side of Mars, the Cleopatra loomed into view, silhouetted spectacularly by Phobos.

The basic design of the C-18 Starglider was not a thing of beauty.

The ship measured one hundred and six metres from bow to the stern and had one deck that contained the Bridge, Crew Quarters, Mess Hall, Infirmary, Cargo Bay and Main Engineering. At split levels around the aft portion of the ship there were three lateral stabilisers that contained the communications array, weapons systems and two sub light engines. The Reactor that powered the Quantum Drive was contained in a separate compartment within main engineering and located centrally, port and starboard, were two docking collars. The Bridge was four times the width of the main deck, making the nose of the ship seem bulbous and the seven metre wide stabilisers seem small and out of proportion.

Aerodynamics however had not a concern, as the ship had not been designed to enter a planet's atmosphere.

Hendrix took the Dauntless past the Cleopatra's port stabiliser and held position one hundred metres off the stern.

"Cleopatra, this is the Dauntless. Request permission to dock, over." Hendrix said.

"Granted." Sorrenstam said in terse reply. "Once you're on board be ready for immediate departure, over."

"Understood. Dauntless out."

"He sounds a little more pissed that usual." Powell said, thinking about the verbal onslaught they would no doubt receive for their tardiness.

"Trust me Powell." Hendrix said, smiling. "After a few more months, his rants will wash over you like water off a ducks back!"

Hendrix leaned forward and activated the ship wide loudspeaker again.

"This is your Captain speaking. We will shortly be landing and descending into the seventh level of hell. Be ready for immediate departure. And for you newbies amongst us, that means hold on to something."

In a defiant mood, Hendrix started the docking manoeuvre before the cargo bay doors were completely open. Only at the last moment did he decelerate, missing the doors by the nearest of margins. Hendrix then brought the Dauntless down expertly next to her sister ship the Mystic, which was announced to all as the landing struts came into hard contact with the deck plating.

*****

On the Bridge Sorrenstam felt and heard the heavy impact and again cursed Hendrix's name. He then turned to his Helmsman. "Ensign Watson, set a course for the Carallan Nebula."

Watson, who was on his first deployment, set the course as instructed and brought the Quantum Drive on line. "Course plotted sir. Dampening field is charged and stable."

"Very well." Sorrenstam said, pushing a button on the left armrest of his chair, activating the ship wide loud speaker. "Attention all hands. Brace for maximum velocity in ten seconds."

Giving Watson the nod, Sorrenstam sat back as the Cleopatra turned gracefully through one hundred and forty degrees to face open space.

Smoothly the Quantum Drive wound up to full power and then in a blinding white flash the Cleopatra was gone.

*****

Being buckled securely into their seats, the occupants of the Dauntless were perhaps best prepared for the Cleopatra's departure. But even with the warning, Hewson was still stunned by the acceleration. After thirty seconds, the g-forces began to subside as the Cleopatra reached a constant velocity.

"OK, that's the roller coaster ride over and done with until the trip home." Thorpe said and then sure enough, one by one the crew unfastened their harnesses and disembarked.

*****

Having prepared for the worst, Sorrenstam had spent the last three days running a series of battle drills, testing everyone's competency. All of the Cleopatra's crew were of course already highly skilled and competent officers, but this was the U.R.M's flagship and more importantly Sorrenstam's ship, and he expected more from his crew than just text book smarts. As things stood, the crew were not living up to his expectations, so Sorrenstam left the Bridge frustrated and with a mood matching the colour of the void surrounding them. As he walked down the main passageway toward the cargo bay, officers and enlisted men saluted Sorrenstam, not that he noticed. He was far too busy thinking about what he was going to say to Hendrix.

*****

Those on board the Dauntless had now finished unloading their equipment and where now staking their claim to what little of the cargo bay remained.

As Hewson sat down against the rear bulkhead, he felt a wave of nausea hit him. He had never had a problem with claustrophobia before, but then he'd never been trapped on a tin can travelling faster than light with thirty marines before either.

Taking note of his friend's pale silence, Thorpe paid homage to an old custom from his regiment days, and against regulation, unpacked his miniature gas burner and made a cup of tea which he shared with Hewson.

On the other side of the cargo bay Hendrix and Powell were deep in conversation with two Marines they knew from a previous deployment. With their backs to the door, neither of them saw Sorrenstam approach, and in three quick strides he was across the room, smiling menacingly at Powell.

"Since you're new you get off with your first and only warning." Sorrenstam said to Powell, before turning his attention to Hendrix. "You on the other hand, if you ever come in hot like that again, I'll personally clip your wings. Understand?"

"Yes sir." Hendrix said completely un-fazed.

Sorrenstam clenched his teeth, barely able to keep his temper in check and then out of the corner of his eye he saw Hewson and Thorpe.

"Water off a duck's back." Hendrix said to Powell after Sorrenstam was out of earshot.

"Colonel, Professor. Good to have you aboard." Sorrenstam said, still agitated.

"That's quite a good pilot you've got there William." Thorpe commented, deliberately trying to get a rise out of Sorrenstam.

"Not bad. But some discipline wouldn't go amiss!" Sorrenstam said, trying hard to relax the muscles in his jaw.

"You know, he does remind me of someone? I think you know him pretty well!" Thorpe said, having some fun at Sorrenstam's expense.

As much as a surprise to himself as everyone else, Sorrenstam laughed out loud.

"As usual, you've got everything back to front and upside down. I was actually a whole lot worse, as I'm sure you remember."

"I stand corrected." Thorpe replied.

"There's a briefing at 1700hrs, but afterwards if you two and your officers want to join me for a drink, I'll be in my cabin."

"Aye and I think after the briefing, we may all be needing that drink." Thorpe said.

"Now if you'll excuse me I've got some other duties to attend to. If you need anything else, extra blankets or supplies, just ask one of my officers, and they'll fix you up." Sorrenstam smiled and then walked briskly away.

"So what's the deal between you two?" Hewson asked, no longer able to leave his curiosity unanswered.

"He was originally with the Dutch Navy, but he came over to Hereford for selection and ended up on a secondment with the SBS."

"SBS?" Hewson said.

"Special Boat Service. Anyway to cut a long story short, we became pretty good friends and as friends do on occasion, we also became interested in the same woman."

"What happened?" Hewson enquired.

"Well, let's just say our actions resulted in her wanting nothing to do with either of us."

As Thorpe looked down at his feet in silence, Hewson saw it all.

"We've got six hours before the briefing." Thorpe said straightening his back. "What do you say we go and find out what there is to eat on this boat?"

*****

The Mess Hall had an inescapable similarity to a mid-to-late twentieth century school dining hall. It was all very institutionalized and unimpressive, from its bright magnolia paintwork and glossy blue formica table tops, to the all too familiar moulded plastic chairs.

As Hewson looked around the Mess Hall, he noticed the high ceilings and far more generous space, both of which made him breathe a little easier, though it was the observation window that really caught his attention. Above him space was literally warping around the Cleopatra. To the uninitiated, the constant stream of light could be a surreal and hypnotic experience, but unexpectedly for Hewson, it had a calming effect on him.

Walking down the centre of the room, Hewson and Thorpe saw two small bands of humanity. At one end sat half a dozen Flight Officers and at the opposite end, there were a more or less equal number of Marines. Wanting to improve relations, Thorpe made his way over to the Flight Officers to make some introductions.

"Afternoon Ensign Williams." Thorpe said cheerfully, having read her name off of her flight suit.

"Please don't be put off by the appearance of my team. They may look like they've just escaped from a penal colony, but they're really very sweet when you get to know them."

"That's good to know sir." Williams replied warmly.

"Introductions! My name's Thorpe and this is Professor Hewson."

"Well you got my name already." Williams said. "To my right is Jenkins, then Clarke, Chavez and O'Neil."

"How many tours is this for you on the Cleopatra?" Thorpe enquired.

"For the guys and gals here, this will be their first, but it's my third." Williams said.

"Not wanting to pry sir. But is this a rescue mission? It's just, we weren't aware that the Ashen system had been re-settled?"

Thorpe replied courteously. "The Captain is arranging a briefing for everybody at 1700hrs and I'm sure he'll reveal as much as he can then. Now, on a much more serious note, what do you ladies and gentlemen recommend from the kitchen?"

"As long as you stay clear of the Pesto and the meatloaf, you should do fine." Clarke replied.

Thanking the officers for their guidance, Thorpe and Hewson made their way to the hot plates. Having recovered from his experience on the Dauntless, Hewson's appetite had now resurfaced with a vengeance and he probably would have taken a crack at anything that was put in front of him. Lifting the lid of each tray in turn, he tried to mask his look of disdain, but eventually decided to take a chance on what he believed to be macaroni and cheese. Thorpe also took a large helping of the pasta and then the two walked over to the table occupied by the marines.

Before they were halfway across the room, one of the marines, a man of average height with dirty blonde hair spotted them and stood up sharply, the rest of his subordinates only a heartbeat behind him.

"Lieutenant Petterson I presume?" Thorpe enquired, in a friendly but confident manner.

"Yes sir." Petterson replied.

Hewson watched Petterson intently as Thorpe explained who he was and that his function would be to provide the technical support on the ground. If Petterson objected at all, Hewson couldn't tell, though something had flickered briefly behind his eyes.

"Well that's good to hear." Petterson replied, making eye contact with both men. "More intel the better. Let me introduce you to my second in command Sergeant Jackson."

A tall striking woman, Jackson had raven black hair that came down to her shoulders and one of the warmest smiles Hewson had ever seen. Though similar to Petterson, there was an intensity about her that left Hewson in no doubt that when the situation demanded it, she along with the rest of her team, were capable of ruthless efficiency.

"Probably a stupid question." Thorpe offered. "But what have you and your team been told about the mission?"

"With the exception of our destination sir, nothing at all. But looking at the team that's been put together, I would imagine that a hostage situation has been considered?" Petterson suggested.

"Correct." Thorpe replied.

"May I ask your background sir and level of involvement?" Petterson asked slightly hesitantly.

"Well in a former life I commanded special forces out of Hereford. As for my level of involvement, I've been chosen to lead the mission."

"I see." Petterson said, once more his grey facade giving nothing away.

"Lieutenant." Thorpe said softly. "You will undoubtedly know your team inside and out. I don't. So let's have the briefing and then afterwards, you and I can have a much more earnest conversation. And hopefully without sounding patronising, I will be very interested in hearing your opinions and insights.

*****

Conversation was sporadic as Hewson and Thorpe ate their meals, though the general mood stayed light, and the banter lighter still.

"Professor." Petterson said. "Would I be right in thinking this is your first time off world?"

"What gave it away? Was it the projectile vomiting, or the bouts of unconsciousness?" Hewson replied after finishing a mouthful of Macaroni.

"Well there was that, but there was also the green tinge."

"Don't let him get under your skin Professor." Jackson piped up. "Last time out he took a turn at re-decorating the interior of the Dauntless."

"Remind me about that comment at your next performance review Sergeant." Petterson retorted in good humour.

"Do you guys get many assignments?" Hewson asked, directing his question to no-one in particular.

"Probably more than you might think." Jackson answered whilst undoing her hair band and tying it back in place again. "There's always a minimum of three special forces personnel on a Starglider, regardless of the mission. I mean don't get me wrong, all of the crew have weapons training and can handle themselves, but when you're out here, dealing with unknowns, it always pays to be prepared. Especially if you're surveying a planet and you're unsure about the wildlife."

"Professor..." Petterson started but was cut short.

"Rob, please." Hewson requested.

"What's your background Rob?" Petterson continued.

"Well I studied as an experimental physicist, but for the last five years I've been managing the terraforming project."

"How's that all working out for us right now?" Petterson asked, genuinely interested. "Will I be able to go for a walk round the block before my fortieth birthday?"

"How old are you?"

"Thirty two."

"Maybe before your fiftieth?" Hewson replied.

Thorpe waited politely for his opening and then interjected.

"Thanks for the meal guys. Now if you'll excuse us, the professor and I need to prepare for the briefing."

*****

For about half an hour Hewson and Thorpe sat in the increasingly cramped cargo bay, discussing what technical information they might need on the ground. Hewson had already gathered every construction blueprint he could lay his hands on and as soon as they were in range of the planet, Sorrenstam would be launching a probe to provide them with detailed imagery of the area surrounding the compound.

"OK, that's a good start." Thorpe said standing up as Hewson shutdown his laptop. "Now I'm going to go and find our fearless leader and see if we can set up a holographic range in one of the store rooms."

"And whilst you're off performing that minor miracle, I'm going to touch base with Commander Perez." Hewson replied.

*****

Thanks to a full stomach and some good company, Hewson had had time to get over his initial bout of claustrophobia, and now as he walked down the main corridor it didn't feel like the bulkheads were closing in on him all 'that much' at all. Sorrenstam had told them earlier that they would be able to find his executive officer Commander Perez on the Bridge and that his shift would be ending at 2000hrs. No doubt Perez would be tired and hungry, so Hewson would keep the Q&A to a minimum.

As he walked onto the Bridge, Hewson heard professional and controlled voices and could feel the high levels of concentration radiating off everyone. As expected, the layout of the room was simple and minimalist. Mounted centrally in a triangular formation were the three command chairs. Hewson recognised Ensign Williams sitting at one of them, and there was another young officer at the helm, so by deductive reasoning he presumed Perez occupied the third chair.

Around the outside of the room, Hewson counted seven separate work stations which were monitoring the ship's systems and telemetry. As he stood quietly by the door, he tried to tune into the conversations. It sounded like they were in the midst of running a ship wide diagnostic. As each area of the ship was checked, the officer responsible fed the information back to Perez, who didn't look overly pleased by what he was hearing.

"Jesus H Christ." Perez said, after digesting the engine performance report. "I think a rebuild may well be in order after this little outing!"

"Lieutenant Commander Perez?" Hewson said as he walked across the room. "I'm Rob Hewson. Captain Sorrenstam said to meet you here at 2000hrs?"

"Yeah. Hi. Good to meet you." Perez replied, still flustered.

Perez was a little shorter than Hewson, but far heavier built and judging by his dark brown hair and olive complexion, had South American or Spanish ancestry.

"Bad news?" Hewson enquired in a disarming tone.

"No. There's nothing as such to worry about, it's just we're putting a hell of a strain on the engines. I just hope we're not in too much of a rush to get home, that's all." Perez said more amiably.

"So what would you like to see first Professor?" Perez asked.

"I was wondering if we might be able to take a look at your long range communications array, and maybe later your Tech Lab?"

"We can access the comms array from the Tech Lab, so if we head down there now we can kill two birds with one stone?"

"Sounds good to me." Hewson replied, glad to be doing something constructive at last.

*****

Thorpe wasn't a big advocate for holographic ranges, but under the circumstances he didn't have much of a choice. He eventually found Sorrenstam in the cargo bay scowling at the general disarray, clearly not in the best of moods, but then, there was nothing particularly new there.

"Ah there you are." Thorpe said cheerfully. "As you can see the boys have made themselves at home."

Sorrenstam looked across at Thorpe and took a deep breath before answering.

"Quite! Is there something in particular I can help you with, or have you just come down here to rub me up the wrong way some more?"

"Now, now. Play nice. Actually there is something you can help me with. Is there anywhere available to set up a holographic range?" Thorpe asked.

"Plenty of room outside." Sorrenstam grunted. "But failing that I suppose there's always one of the aft store rooms?"

"Thank you your honour." Thorpe said, bowing before Sorrenstam's boundless benevolence. "And we promise to try and keep the noise down."

*****

Standing outside the Tech Lab, Hewson waited as Perez keyed the security code into the door. Quietly and smoothly the doors retracted, revealing to Hewson another wonderfully large open space. Positioned along the back wall, directly facing the entrance, he saw an impressive array of computer hardware, though in the area leading up to it, there was nothing other than a row of chairs stacked up against the West wall. One half of the room was taken up by work benches of varying size, and almost every square metre of wall space was covered by shelving and storage units. On the benches, Hewson could see all manner of equipment. Some items were familiar to him, though others were entirely alien. Of those he recognised, he saw a couple of probe droids that had been retro-fitted with some kind of energy weapon, though from where he was standing he couldn't tell what type, and in all honesty, he didn't really want to know.

"You've got a great set up in here." Hewson said, still slightly reserved.

"We do get to play with all of the new toys, that's for sure." Perez replied.

Hewson laughed at the comment, though as he cast his eyes around the room it was clear to him that the gap between civilian technology and the military's was still as large now as it ever was. Scientists were still the creative driving force, but the government and the military still made sure that that it was they that held the keys to the kingdom.

"Would I be right in thinking that this place doubles as your briefing room?" Hewson asked motioning toward the projection screen that hung from the ceiling.

"Yeah, we only tend to come in here if we need to see tech specs, otherwise we just tend to congregate in the cargo bay or the Mess Hall."

Sitting down at one of the workstations, Perez fired up the computer, whilst Hewson grabbed a chair for himself.

"OK then." Perez said. "What do you want to look at first?"

"Before we left the Sanctuary I tried to find an inventory for the colony, but there didn't appear to be one on record?"

For a split second, Perez regarded Hewson with a slightly bemused, almost condescending look, like he should have known better.

"All of the files for the colony are restricted access only. You need level five clearance or above." Perez' hands flew over the keys expertly, opening multiple folders until he found the inventory. "I think this is what you're after."

As Perez moved to one side, Hewson sat square with the monitor and started reading the lengthy document. The first four pages consisted mainly of day to day supplies and foodstuffs, but the fifth listed machinery, including two All-Terrain Vehicles. Once he had reached the bottom of the list, Hewson saw a sub folder entitled 'Military Ordnance'.

When he accessed the file it brought up an equally long list of weapons, ammunition and explosives.

"We'll need this information for the briefing later." Hewson said, disturbed by the number of weapons that this supposed scientific colony appeared to have access to.

"No problem."

"What's the specification of those ATVs?" Hewson asked.

"They're four man exploration vehicles, originally designed for the military, so they have light armour plating, secure satt comms and a fuel cell that's good for three hundred kilometres on full charge." Perez replied, before realising what Hewson was getting at.

"We haven't been able to raise the colony or log onto their mainframe for over two weeks now." Hewson said more as a statement than a question. "So I'm wondering if it would be possible to log on remotely by patching through to one of those ATVs? If it works, we should be able to access the colonies security grid and find out what the hell's been going on."

"Sounds feasible." Perez replied.

"If we're right and the colonies transceiver is fried, then how close would the Cleopatra have to be in order to try and raise comms?" Hewson asked.

Perez regarded the question for a few seconds and then started tapping away on the keyboard again. He brought up the ships telemetry and overlaid it on a star chart.

"We're here." Perez said, pointing at a flashing cursor that represented the Cleopatra's flight path. "We're ten light years from the Carallan Nebula, so at our current speed our ETA is 61 hours. I guess if we boosted power to the long range relay station and our own high gain transceiver, we could try and make contact in three or four hours. This is presuming of course that the ATVs are operational?"

"I prefer to think on the shiny side." Hewson said with a smile. "Thanks for your help. If it's OK I may need to borrow you again later for the briefing?"

"No problem." Perez said without hesitation.

After Perez had locked the work station, Hewson made his way back to the cargo bay to pick up his laptop. There were a few things he wanted to review and he probably wouldn't get another opportunity before the briefing.

*****

When Hewson had left the cargo bay earlier it had already been overflowing with equipment and humanity, but now as the doors opened he was confronted with a far worse spectacle. In addition to the floor being covered by sleeping bags, clothing and holdalls, there were now hammocks fastened to the ceiling as well. So not only did Hewson have to worry about tripping over someone's boots and breaking his neck, he now also had to be careful not to garrotte himself. Hewson again felt a wave of claustrophobia hit him, but at least for the time being he had what there was of the room to himself.

Thankfully, he found his personal effects exactly where he'd left them, so with his laptop in hand, he propped himself up against the bulkhead and got busy. There was an hour and a half before the briefing, so he'd spend forty five minutes putting together some bullet points and then rest his eyes for half an hour.

Knowing the material back to front, it wasn't long before Hewson had gone over all of the schematics and made more than enough annotations. Yawning enthusiastically, he looked down at his wrist watch and was glad to see that there was still an hour to go before the briefing.

There was no other preparation required, so using a towel to support his head, he lay down on the cold deck plating and closed his eyes.

*****

Less than half an hour later, Sorrenstam's voice exploded over the ship wide loud speaker, ripping Hewson from the gentle caresses of sleep.

"Yellow alert. All senior officers report to the Tech Lab immediately! This is not a drill!"

Hewson awoke as the command was being repeated and looked around to see others filing out of the room.

Hewson followed everyone else along the passageway and broke into a run. Coming from the opposite direction, Thorpe reached the Tech Lab fractionally ahead of Hewson.

"The Sanctuary has been attacked." Thorpe said, the five words clipped short by a combination of anger and grief. Thorpe motioned towards the door, not offering Hewson any further explanation.

Sorrenstam's five senior officers were already assembled, as were Petterson and Jackson.

Hewson and Thorpe both sat down and a few seconds later Sorrenstam and Perez entered.

As he walked across the room to address the group, Sorrenstam showed none of his usual vibrance or swagger. Whatever the news was, it made him look like he'd aged ten years.

"I've just received an encrypted transmission from Rebecca Harrison. At approximately 2230hrs Martian time, the Sanctuary was attacked by a heavily armed force. The ten assailants have been shot dead by security forces, and have all been positively identified as Ashen 2 personnel."

The silence that followed Sorrenstam's address was awful, everyone's thoughts immediately going to their families and loved ones.

"The attack was concentrated on the main habitat, where atmosphere was lost temporarily." Sorrenstam continued. "For now, the death toll stands at twenty seven, but this is expected to rise, as another eight personnel are in a critical condition. None of these animals would be taken alive, and eye witnesses claim that several of the gunmen were exhibiting psychotic behaviour, so they may have taken some form of narcotic, but suffice it to say, a full blood-work analysis will be forwarded to us as soon as the information becomes available."

It was understandably difficult for the group to digest what they'd just been told, and they sat in silence until Petterson cut in.

"Sir, do we know how the Sanctuary was infiltrated?"

"Yes. We believe a singularity was used." Sorrenstam replied and then before Petterson could respond, he handed the floor over to Hewson.

Dazed and numb, Hewson knew that all he could do right now was shut out the horror and concentrate on the briefing. As calmly as he could, he provided an overview of Pathfinder and then afterwards answered the multitude of questions that followed.

There was no animosity from his peers, just a distinct and desperate need to understand the situation and formulate a strategy. The group's hunger for action was momentarily satisfied when Hewson went on to explain his idea of raising communications through the ATVs.

"Lieutenant Commander Perez." Sorrenstam said. "How long until we can try and raise communications?"

"We should be in range by 0200hrs." Perez replied instantly.

"In that case I suggest you and the Professor get some rest. It's going to be a long night."

Chapter 8: Contact

At 0030hrs, Hewson woke from a nightmare, covered in a fine layer of sweat. The report from the Sanctuary had confirmed that Kate wasn't among the dead, but like everyone else on board the Cleopatra, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the attack. In his dream, he'd seen Kate and Harrison sitting at Café Rouge. They'd been laughing and joking one moment and then from within the courtyard a singularity opened, lighting the length and breadth of the main habitat.

Foot soldiers had immediately appeared and started gunning down anyone in their path. Bullets flew in all directions, but Hewson heard only the screams of the hapless victims. Frantically he'd looked for Kate and Harrison amidst the carnage, but had only seen the enemy. Though not their faces, they'd had no faces, only smooth skin, betraying no visible emotion. It was the feeling of malevolence and hatred he'd felt from those faceless monsters that stayed with him now in the waking world.

Wanting a shower, Hewson threw on a pair of trousers and grabbed his holdall. He then carefully stepped over those camped out around him and crept out the room.

As he walked down the main passageway, Hewson's sweat soaked skin was cooled to the point of discomfort, but compared to what his subconscious mind had just served up to him, he welcomed the sensation. Even now, his dream had lost none of its potency.

The Cleopatra operated a four shift rotation around the clock, so other than those on duty, there were very few personnel up and about, so unsurprisingly the men's changing room was deserted. Taking a towel out of his holdall, Hewson stepped into one of the shower cubicles and cranked open both taps. The initial blast of icy water brought him fully awake in a nanosecond, giving him a much needed shot of adrenaline which ebbed away as the water temperature increased.

Five minutes later, Hewson walked out into the steam filled changing room and dried himself thoroughly. He knew he wouldn't be able to get back to sleep, so now fully clothed he dropped his holdall back in the cargo bay and picked up his laptop. Deciding to fully embrace the hour, he headed for the Mess hall.

*****

The only light source in the Mess Hall came from a half empty confectionery dispenser, which barely illuminated the few metres surrounding it.

Having not been able to sleep either, Thorpe sat in the far corner of the room, nursing a cup of coffee and staring blankly into the darkness.

"Great minds think alike." Thorpe said who'd seen Hewson disappear to the showers, and had prepared a second cup for him.

Thanking Thorpe, Hewson sat down and cradled the cup between his hands, though for a few seconds he was unable to take his eyes off its steaming contents.

"Bad dreams?" Thorpe asked.

"I can't get the image of Kate out of my mind. I saw the casualty list, I know she's safe, but she's there and I'm here."

"Right there with you." Thorpe replied. "We've got three days before we disembark, and right now, gathering intelligence is where you can help us the most. Trust me when I tell you, we're gonna hit these bastards hard."

"Yeah, well count me in on that." Hewson replied angrily.

Still with twenty minutes in hand, the two men re-filled their mugs and walked slowly down the passageway to the Tech Lab. Approaching from the opposite direction, also holding a steaming beverage, came Perez.

"Good morning gents." Perez said quietly, more as a courtesy then implying anything good would come from it. Once Perez had punched in the access code, they walked inside the room and Perez sat down at the same work station that he'd used the previous evening.

Within seconds he'd accessed the comms array. He then split the screen and brought up a graphic showing their current course and speed, and the distance remaining to the Ashen system. As recommended by Hewson, Perez had brought with him an independent hard drive, so that if they were successful in making contact with the colony, they could download files without fear of infecting the Cleopatra's main computer with a virus. Even with a powerful firewall, no-one wanted to take the chance of being stranded light years from home.

"Let's give this thing a go then." Perez murmured to himself.

It took a few minutes for the Cleopatra's signal to reach the relay station which was situated approximately half way between Mars and the Carallan Nebula. It then took a further twenty seconds for the Cleopatra's computer to shake hands with the relay station's software.

Perez touch typed his way through a multitude of windows, until finally three separate icons were displayed. The first two represented the ATVs and indicated a very weak signal strength, and the third showed the colony's main transmitter, which confirmed what they already knew, that it had either been disabled, or destroyed. Perez then opened comms with the bridge.

"Captain Sorrenstam. Please respond."

"What is it Perez?"

"We've picked up a signal from the ATVs, though to patch through we'll need to boost the signal strength. Do we have the master override codes for the relay station?"

"Wait a second." Sorrenstam replied.

All three men sat patiently sipping their coffee, as Sorrenstam and the bridge officers interrogated the Cleopatra's data banks for the code.

"We've accessed the relay station and boosted the high gain by thirty percent." Sorrenstam said eventually. "But you only have five minutes to get what we need. After that we'll have to power down."

"Understood Sir." Perez said, his hands flying over the keyboard. "OK we're in. I'm trying to access the colony's mainframe now."

"Damn it!" Perez said aloud, his shoulders slumping as he pushed himself away from the keyboard. "Someone's changed the access code!"

"Let me see." Hewson said pulling his chair closer to examine the screen. "Well the good news is that I can crack this password."

"What's the bad news?" Thorpe and Perez said in stereo.

"The bad news is, I'm not sure it can be done in four minutes and ten seconds."

With his laptop plugged into the workstation, Hewson quickly brought up the security access screen. He then opened a separate window on his laptop and opened a folder named Goliath.

"Goliath?" Thorpe asked.

"It's a decryption algorithm I've been working on." Hewson replied, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"So espionage is a hobby of yours then?" Perez asked.

"What can I say?" Hewson replied dryly. "I had a misspent youth."

Hewson started the decryption sequence and placed his laptop next to the work station so they could see both screens. He then sat back with the others and watched Goliath go to work.

"How long have we got?" Hewson asked.

"Three minutes, seventeen seconds." Came the reply from Thorpe.

Everyone watched the laptop intently. It felt like an hour had passed before the first digit revealed itself, but then several others appeared in quick succession.

Hewson looked down at his watch to see another minute had passed, at which point they heard Sorrenstam's voice blast out over the ship wide loudspeaker.

"You have one minute gentlemen."

With only forty two seconds left on the clock, Goliath finally cracked the code.

Hewson immediately accessed the main hub. Entering the operational data archives, he brought up a list of sub folders, one of which was entitled 'Security Grid'. With no time to select specific data, Hewson started a download of the entire folder. The progress bar on the screen indicated a transfer rate of four percent per second and looking at his watch, he knew instantly they were going to be left wanting.

"Ten seconds!" Sorrenstam announced.

As the link was severed, Thorpe opened comms with the Bridge.

"We managed to retrieve 83% of the files." Thorpe said. "Rob and I are going to take a look at it now. We'll update you as soon as we find anything."

"Understood, Sorrenstam out."

"I'm going to need to scan the data we've downloaded for viruses." Perez sighed. "It'll probably take about five minutes."

"Well that's a bit of an anti-climax." Thorpe exclaimed. "But it does give us a chance to grab some breakfast and most importantly a fresh pot of coffee."

*****

Armed with a tray of sandwiches and coffee, the three made their way back to the Tech Lab to resume their vigil. Sorrenstam also stopped by, but he knew better than to start asking questions that no one as yet would be able to answer, so after a short intermission, the work resumed.

Hewson knew that Thorpe was an expert when it came to human interaction and body language, but as he watched him study the CCTV recordings, he could see his frustration growing by the minute.

If it hadn't been for the attack on the Sanctuary, Hewson would have doubted that any of the colonists would've been capable of committing such a cold blooded and heinous act. With no expertise to offer in this area, he started studying the inventory manifests, just in case they differed to those he'd already seen. Predictably however, they provided no further insight.

At 0420hrs Perez was called to the Bridge, leaving Thorpe and Hewson to continue scouring the security files, but in defiance to their consumption of coffee, they were now slowing down considerably.

Letting out a small yawn, Hewson started to view another of the security files. This one was entitled 'Science Lab 1' and dated the twenty third of March.

On the screen, a large and magnificent room appeared. Joanna Davies and her team were sat at workstations that were configured around a large rectangular apparatus that measured at least three metres high and two metres wide. The machine was essentially a giant cube, with thick cables and hoses protruding from its base, which trailed across the floor and disappeared into the back of the workstations.

Davies was standing at one end of the room orchestrating the experiment, while intermittently her staff provided her with updates.

"So this is what all the fuss is about huh?" Thorpe said.

"That's Pathfinder. It looks like they're trying to bring the singularity generator online." Hewson said. "We haven't seen any other footage, so I'm assuming this is the first experiment since their original success."

"Isn't it a little strange that they waited six days before running another test?" Thorpe asked.

"Perhaps." Hewson replied. "But by Joanna's own admission they got lucky, so she may have wanted to ensure everything was completely ready before commencing the active test phase of the project."

As the two men continued to watch the footage they heard a siren and an automated announcement, stating that a thirty second countdown had begun. With only five seconds left on the clock, the singularity generator was close to full power and it was at this point that the lights in the lab started to dim and flicker.

"Do you see that?" Hewson said, switching to another of the CCTV cameras on the opposite side of the lab. "They're having a power distribution problem."

"How much energy does it take to run this thing anyhow?" Thorpe asked.

"I won't bore you with the detail, but it's a lot. According to the plans, there's a small fusion reactor located inside the main science lab."

As they continued to watch, Davies worked at her keyboard until the lights stopped flickering. They then heard a powerful low pitch hum and as the intensity of the sound increased, Davies and her team became increasingly animated, looking repeatedly from the singularity and then back to their workstations. As the singularity formed, the explosion of light was blinding, so much so that all Hewson and Thorpe saw momentarily was a completely white screen. As it became stable, the humming disappeared and the picture returned to normal. Blinding white light was now replaced by an ethereal green glow. At the far end of the room, a few centimetres above the concrete flooring, there was now two distinct points of light radiating and brushing the walls like mirror balls.

Captivated by what they were watching, Hewson and Thorpe remained silent, trying to process as much information as possible.

Remaining calm, Joanna Davies walked round the room, checking each of her staff's data, only moving on when she was completely satisfied by what she saw. Three minutes and forty five seconds later Davies powered down the generator and collapsed the singularity. Then all of the scientists, including Davies, remained seated whilst they reviewed their data.

"I want to see some more footage of these guys mobile and interacting with each other." Thorpe said. "Can you increase the playback speed?"

"No problem. Give me a second." Hewson replied.

As requested, Hewson scrolled through over an hour of academia and with the video indicating a time of 2016hrs, he resumed normal playback.

The scientists now appeared to be wrapping it up for the day and after another round of congratulations and back slapping, each of them left the room.

Joanna Davies stayed on for a few minutes before following, though on her way out she punched the air triumphantly, before switching off the lights and disappearing.

Getting slightly despondent with their lack of progress, Thorpe announced he was going to get some more coffee and left Hewson to it.

Intrigued by what he'd seen of Pathfinder, Hewson started to open the next security log. This one was dated the following day and was also recorded in the main lab, though as Hewson looked again at the date, he was filled with a measure of anxiety, realising that this was the day that Davies failed to make her scheduled communication.

The footage could very well have been from the previous day, as all of the sights and sounds were practically a carbon copy. Hewson increased the playback speed and skimmed through the footage. With the exception of the singularity being open for thirteen seconds longer than the day before, every other action was practically identical, including the power distribution problem, at which point Davies threw her hands up in the air in disbelief, looking like she was asking for strength from a higher power. After collapsing the singularity, they again spent an hour reviewing the data, before shutting up shop for the day. Though as everyone filed out of the lab, two of the scientists stopped to speak to Davies and appeared to be pleading with her about something. One of the men was a similar age and build to Hewson, though had long fair hair. The other was at least two metres tall, bald and probably twenty years older than his colleague.

Hewson resumed normal playback and increased the audio output to its maximum setting.

"Joanna, if you don't mind, Sykes and I are going to stay behind tonight and play around with the field harmonics. Maybe start working on another profile?" Braymer said.

"No problem." Davies said rolling her eyes. "Just make sure you aren't here all night again, OK?"

"Would we do such a thing?" Braymer said holding his hands up defensively.

"Now you listen to me Jonathan Braymer." Davies said, jovially. "I remember the last time you two burned the midnight oil. You were both asleep at your desks by 1100hrs the following day!"

"We'll be good." Braymer replied in a similar tone.

"Have a nice evening gentlemen." Davies said, before leaving Sykes and Braymer to it.

Both men walked back to their workstations and took a seat. Braymer then reached for his cup and was dismayed to discover it was empty.

"Whose round is it?" Braymer asked.

"Well since I can't remember the last time you offered, I think that makes it yours!" Sykes replied.

Hewson fast forwarded the next couple of minutes and then resumed normal playback as Braymer reappeared with the drinks. Hewson noticed immediately that there was something odd about the way Sykes was perched on the edge of his seat. His arms were down by his sides and his head was tilted like he was contemplating something of great importance.

"There you go. Tea for two." Braymer said, planting the drinks on a filing cabinet to the left of their workstation. "Just remember whose round it is next time!" Braymer continued, still oblivious to his colleague's condition.

Hewson felt a knot forming in his stomach and knew instinctively that something was wrong. As he continued to watch, Sykes leant forwards and picked up what looked like a clear glass paperweight from a filing tray. Sykes then swung round in his chair and faced Braymer. Still with a slightly perplexed grin on his face, it seemed as though Braymer thought his friend was playing some kind of practical joke on him.

Unassumingly, Sykes took a step closer to Braymer and then with lightning speed struck him on the side of the head with the paperweight, the effects of which were both devastating and immediate. Mercifully Braymer was unconscious before he hit the floor and knew nothing of the killing blow that followed.

At that point Thorpe entered the room to find Hewson staring silently at the screen.

"You need to see this." Hewson said weakly, his stomach now churning.

Thorpe took the footage back five minutes and watched everything leading up to the attack.

Having now seen up to the same point, both men continued to watch the macabre display. After killing Braymer, Sykes walked over to the security door and removed the housing for the door mechanism. He then yanked out a handful of wires, which sparked and discharged, sealing the security door. Amazingly Sykes didn't appear to have been affected by the massive current his body had just earthed. He then walked back over to the workstation and sat down.

Hewson and Thorpe couldn't see exactly what Sykes was up to, but his hands were flying over the keyboard like a man possessed. A few seconds later they heard the tell-tale siren and countdown, confirming that a singularity was about to open.

Sykes then stood up and turned towards the centre of the room, staring vacantly at Pathfinder as the low pitched hum began.

From where Sykes was standing, Hewson and Thorpe could see his face quite clearly. There was no expression, or any shred of humanity held in his eyes at all, it was as if his own consciousness had been extracted and replaced with that of a cold blooded killer.

"I don't get it. What the hell is he trying to achieve here? He hasn't got any weapons or explosives. Why open the singularity?" Thorpe said.

"Perhaps more importantly." Hewson replied "Where is he opening the singularity to?"

Appearing as though Sykes had heard their comments, he turned and looked directly at the camera.

Hewson knew the footage wasn't live, but he still felt a chill go down his spine as he met the madman's gaze. Picking up one of the lab stools, Sykes walked across the room to the camera and smashed it away from the wall bracket with one powerful blow. The picture was lost immediately and by the time the camera on the other side of the lab had cut in, all they saw was a close up of Sykes as he swung the stool again.

"There's no other footage from the labs or anywhere else after this entry." Hewson offered. "It looks like all of the CCTV cameras were either destroyed or disabled at this point."

"I'll ask Sorrenstam to assemble the senior officers." Thorpe said.

*****

It had only taken ten minutes to run through the footage with Sorrenstam, which had raised more questions than it answered.

"Do we have any working theories?" Sorrenstam asked thoughtfully.

"Not wanting to jump to conclusions." Thorpe said, rolling a pen through the digits of his left hand "But is it possible that the singularity itself has in some way affected the colonists?"

Again silence reigned as everyone considered the question.

"Professor Hewson?" Sorrenstam enquired. "For a moment let's presume the Colonel is correct. You're the closest thing we have to an expert. If Pathfinder is responsible, what measures can we take to protect ourselves?"

To focus his mind, Hewson closed his eyes for a few seconds and then thought out loud.

"None of the simulations, or the initial experiments indicated there would be any harmful levels of radiation or danger of synaptic degradation. So if Pathfinder is causing some form of psychosis then I don't know how. But to answer your question Captain, to insulate ourselves from the phenomenon we'd have to be slightly out of phase with our space time continuum."

"Oh, no problem then!" Jackson said, clearly frustrated.

Thorpe looked across at Jackson, saying nothing, however his expression spoke volumes.

"Can it be done?" Thorpe asked.

Hewson inhaled sharply, brushing his hair back with both hands.

"It shouldn't be too difficult to generate a low level temporal field around the Cleopatra, though the real trick will be protecting the team when they're on the ground. I might be able to make a lightweight emitter, but I'll need to start researching it immediately."

"If it's not possible, then what would the minimum safe distance be?" Sorrenstam asked.

"Impossible to tell for certain." Hewson replied. "The effects could encompass several hundred kilometres or more. But we should be able to apply basic line of sight."

"Meaning that as long as we stay on the far side of the planet, we should be OK?"

"Exactly. Not much help I'm afraid." Hewson replied. "As soon as we're done here, I'll head down to the Tech Lab and get started."

"You'll have whatever you need." Sorrenstam said.

"Do we know if there are any planetary defences?" Thorpe said.

"According to the inventory there are seven mobile sentry drones, each packing three surface-to-air missiles." Hendrix replied. "It also states they're in storage, but after recent events I think we have to assume they're out there and ready to fire, so I'd recommend making our approach from the far side of the planet, and our Landing Zone at least ten kilometres from the compound."

"Agreed." Thorpe said. "Now let's try and find ourselves a decent spot for the RV."

Chapter 9: Fear

It was just after 0400hrs in the compound on Ashen 2.

The lawns that lay between the string of outbuildings and the main laboratories shimmered as the sun rise reflected in the early morning dew. Moisture however, was not the only substance in evidence on the lawns.

Lois Palmer shivered as she lay on her stomach underneath the porch of one of the residential suites. Her hair was matted to the side of her face with grease and sweat and her hands trembled as she looked out across the now quiet compound.

Chloe Sanders, one of Lois' closest friends had been with her only thirty minutes beforehand. Taking her turn to go out and search for food and water, Chloe had crawled out from their hiding place and disappeared up the slope in the direction of the halls of residence.

A minute or two passed before Lois heard Chloe cry out. She'd wanted so badly to run to her aid, but her muscles hadn't obeyed her commands. All she could do was listen as Chloe fought her life, which ended with one final scream that was brutally curtailed and faded to nothing more than a muffled whimper. There had been no gun shots, so Lois had been left to imagine the manner of her friend's passing.

One by one she had seen all of her friends and colleagues killed or succumb to whatever dark forces were at work in this place she'd called home for almost two years. Lois wasn't a religious person, but this she imagined must surely have compared to Hell. Only in Hell could one be so utterly desperate and alone and in an environment completely impossible to become accustomed to.

All Lois wanted was to be at home with her family. She could remember how as a child, her Mother had told her to hide under her bed clothes if she was ever afraid of the dark. But as she peered out from underneath the porch, she knew there was no safe haven. Even daylight wouldn't afford her any kind of safety, _they_ were everywhere.

A few days ago, Lois and Chloe had been hiding on the edge of the rain forest, when three of their co-workers had burst out of the jungle on the opposite side of the compound. At the back of the pack had been Akua Jakande, a well-liked and respected senior member of staff, and a few metres ahead of him had been two of his second year students, Carol Andrews and Nicole Chow. Taking care of his subordinates right to the end, Jakande had verbally and physically pushed his charges ahead of him, in a desperate bid to keep them alive.

Sprinting out across open ground, running for their lives, the three had headed straight for the Chapel, while behind them, erupting out of the brush, came six of the enemy soldiers. Strangely none of them had opened fire. Jakande and the others quickly rounded the far side of Chapel, but as they did, another ten of the dark vessels were waiting for them, all carrying bush knives. Lois could still hear their screams. _So much blood._

After Davies and the senior staff had learned of Jonathan Braymer's murder, the Pathfinder data had been analysed countless times in an attempt to determine the cause of this apparent psychosis. No firm conclusions had been drawn, leaving only vague theories and speculation to fuel the already soaring bonfires of anxiety. Everyone knew that Malcolm Sykes and Jonathan Braymer had been the very best of friends for over twenty years, so everyone knew there had to be a connection to the project. It had taken a few days for the first of the colonists to mutate, and to begin with, those who had changed appeared no different to anyone else. Certainly the _things_ Lois had seen walking in the woods earlier that day were no longer human. And if it hadn't been for a few remnants of torn clothing, she would never have known they'd been human at all. Somehow these poor souls had warped into something that should only have existed in the darkest of dark dreamscapes, and as Lois had found out to her horror, they were far from the cumbersome, dim-witted creatures they appeared to be. Instead they were intelligent and moved with surprising speed, though more alarmingly, Lois suspected a hidden agenda and purpose.

Dragging her back into the present, Lois heard a noise off in the distance, roughly in the direction of where Chloe had been killed. Concentrating on the sound, Lois heard the slow and deliberate rhythm of footfalls, though from who or what, she couldn't tell.

Retreating further under the porch, Lois made herself as small as she could.

Out across the blood stained lawn, cloaked partially by mist, something was approaching.

Fifty metres away, the creature stopped and looked up at the sky. As it lifted its head into the early morning sunlight, Lois could clearly see the torn remains of a set of jungle DPMs. There had been ten soldiers stationed in the compound and when the slaughter had begun, it was they that had done the most damage. Only three of the soldiers had been unaffected and with the assistance of Jakande, they had rescued twelve others, including Lois and Chloe. For four days they'd managed to repel the zealots, but now they were all gone and Lois was engaged in what she knew was almost certainly an endgame.

Continuing to observe the creature, she shuddered as she saw the half metre long bush knife in its right hand. Immediately her mind was flooded with the bloody images of the massacre outside the Chapel. The creature then paused again and appeared to taste the air with its tongue. Almost at once, its head turned and looked in Lois' direction, breathing in sharply through its nose.

Lois backed away further still, until her spine came into contact with the building's foundation. She couldn't see the beast's eyes, but it felt like they were locked only on her. Advancing more quickly now, the heavily muscled creature closed on her position, stopping in front of the porch to taste the air again.

Lois didn't dare breathe, but her heartbeat was so loud in her ears, she was sure that the sound would betray her. The creature then walked up the stairs and entered the domicile, which made Lois relax slightly. Perhaps her mind had been playing tricks on her? Perhaps _they_ didn't actually have some form of extra sensory perception?

The beast shuffled around the perimeter of the room, tasting the air, and after completing two laps, it came back to the porch and stopped.

Everything was quiet for a few seconds then. Straining to hear what was going on above her, Lois listened in terror. Even her pounding heartbeat had been momentarily quelled.

With unimaginable force, the black souled abomination drove its bush knife through the porch step and impaled Lois through the back.

As her life slipped away from her, the last vision to flash before her eyes was that of her family. With arms outstretched, Lois ran to her Mother and Father.

Chapter 10: Preparation

Thorpe had been reviewing the accuracy and technique of Petterson's unit for just over two hours. Generally the standard was excellent, though he wanted to see a little more, so as an additional test, he'd asked everyone to put three rounds through the heart of a figure elevens target at three hundred metres. Normally this would have posed no real challenge at all, however Thorpe had wanted the task to be performed using only the standard iron sights. Due to the nature of the terrain they'd be facing, it was a very real possibility that their optical units could be damaged or destroyed, and he needed to know that it wouldn't give anyone a problem. As it turned out, he'd had nothing to worry about.

Suspecting that he and his team would be under scrutiny from the word go, Petterson had already completed a similar exercise before going off world, and knew everyone was well up to the task, which was demonstrated by their groupings being within a five centimetre radius.

As the last two participants stepped through the door, Thorpe sighed tiredly. It had been a long morning already and his stomach was growling.

"Corporal Ramirez and Corporal Riley reporting as ordered Colonel."

"As you were gents" Thorpe said, immediately noticing the rifle in Ramirez's hands. "Now what the hell do we have here exactly?"

"This Colonel is the Spitfire .70 calibre." Ramirez said with a smile, stroking the rifle's stock.

".70 calibre. Christ, is that even legal?" Thorpe joked. "Here gimme."

Before passing the weapon to Thorpe, Ramirez pulled back the well-oiled moving parts, checked the chamber and removed the five round magazine, which in itself was twenty centimetres wide.

"Jesus. It's lighter than I would have thought." Thorpe said. "In my day everyone trained with a Barrett .50 cal. What range is this thing good for?"

"Without too much in the way of a cross wind, I've pipped the ace as far out as 1300 metres." Ramirez replied.

"And in his dreams Colonel he can shoot bullets out of the air as well." Riley said, moving swiftly to avoid Ramirez's lightning quick left hand.

"Come on then you two, time to step up to the plate." Thorpe said walking across to the range controls. He then programmed the central range to display a target at a thousand metres, with a simulated cross wind of ten kilometres per hour.

As Ramirez set himself up Riley grabbed three sets of ear defenders and passed them around. No stranger to a challenge, Ramirez replaced the magazine and pulled back the moving parts, loading the Spitfire with one of the mammoth .70 calibre rounds.

Thorpe was glad there was a level sixteen force field at the other end of the range to absorb the round. Without the force field, it was unlikely that pistols or assault rifles would penetrate the hull, but the Spitfire however, would be an entirely different story.

Ramirez made a note of the crosswind, though didn't look at the range controls to gauge the distance, instead he went about his business as he would have in the field.

"Range it." Ramirez said to Riley, who viewed the target through an equally specialised range finder.

As soon as Riley had confirmed what Thorpe already knew, Ramirez took steady aim and fired. Even wearing ear defenders, the report from the Spitfire was extreme and was heard throughout the entire ship.

As Thorpe looked down at the range monitor, he saw that Ramirez had scored a perfect bullseye.

"Cocky little bastard."

*****

Having fallen asleep at one of the work stations in the Tech Lab, Hewson came awake with a jolt as he heard Ramirez's shot. With arms outstretched, he knocked his soldering iron off of the work surface, along with a stack of paperwork. He bent down to pick up the debris and as he did so, he tried his best to rub the sleep out of his eyes. Having not succeeded particularly well on either account, he sat back down heavily and reached for his coffee mug, screwing his face up as he drained its cold contents.

Checking the time, he saw that his impromptu slumber had cost him a total of forty two minutes, though since he'd been up for well over twenty four hours, he figured he was owed a few minutes rest.

For the previous nine hours he'd been designing a miniaturised phase emitter, which given the sleep deficit, had required all of his powers of concentration and left him feeling utterly drained. With his blueprint completed, Hewson now had to locate the parts he needed to actually build the thing.

The wall at the end of the room was made up of an intricate series of shelves, on which sat hundreds of labelled containers, holding every conceivable type of electrical component. Each container quoted a unique reference number, so once Hewson had searched the database and found the relevant part IDs, he spent the next ten minutes rifling through the containers before returning to his work bench. Meticulously, he laid out each component part, referring to his schematic periodically to ensure all of the pieces of the puzzle were present. Largely thanks to his Father, micro-circuitry had always been a passion of his. He'd been shown at a young age how to follow a circuit diagram and had helped his Father to build many of the environmental systems within the Sanctuary.

Working quickly and expertly, it wasn't long before Hewson had the finished article in front of him. The phase emitter was approximately ten centimetres, by seven, by three and weighed little more than half a kilo, most of the weight coming from the power supply. Hewson had opted to use one of the carbon fibre shelving unit containers to house the emitter, as the team needed something both lightweight and durable. Since the container was already a sealed unit, all he'd needed to do was machine an eyelet to each end so that the emitter could be worn around the waist as a belt.

With the finished product in hand, Hewson made his way to the Bridge to find Thorpe and Sorrenstam.

*****

As Hewson walked onto the Bridge, Perez was reading from a PDA.

"Hey Rob." Perez said as he saw Hewson approach. "If you're looking for the Captain, he's holding a briefing in his cabin with Thorpe, Petterson and Hendrix.

"Thanks." Hewson replied. "How's things here?"

"Quiet. But at least it's giving me the chance to catch up on the hourly system reports."

Leaving Perez to it, Hewson left the bridge and walked back down the passageway.

Once he reached Sorrenstam's cabin, he reached out and pressed the door chime and a few seconds later Sorrenstam appeared with a glass of whisky in his hand.

"Professor! Please come in." Sorrenstam said, his usual manner softened considerably by the alcohol.

Sorrenstam's cabin was not what Hewson had expected at all. He had envisioned a cold, minimalist environment, or perhaps a cave with animal hides and skulls nailed to the wall, but instead he saw warm earth tones, wooden furnishings and ancient Turkish rugs.

"Are those Kandinsky?" Hewson asked looking across at the abstract canvasses hanging on the left side of the room.

"As a matter of fact they are. And the one on the left is an original." Sorrenstam replied proudly.

Hewson had heard that Sorrenstam spent a great deal of time on board the Cleopatra. He wondered if it was because he felt more comfortable when onboard, as it would certainly explain why so many of his worldly possessions were on display.

Seated around a large circular table on the far side of the room were Thorpe, Petterson and Hendrix. Each of them were clutching a tumbler of whisky and talking quietly to each other, though it had to be said that Hendrix looked uncomfortable. Hewson guessed that was because he was unaccustomed to seeing the more cordial side to Sorrenstam, which admittedly, was slightly unnerving.

"How goes it?" Thorpe asked, not making a very good show of concealing his fatigue.

"We have a prototype." Hewson replied, placing the phase emitter in the middle of the table.

"Excellent!" Sorrenstam said.

"We'll need to test it using the internal sensors, and if it's working correctly, we should register a small sub space disturbance." Hewson said rubbing his eyes. "But we need to remember, there's no way to be sure this'll work."

"Understood, but we can only go with what we know, which granted right now isn't very much. How long will it take to assemble the rest?" Sorrenstam asked, as he poured Hewson a generous measure of whisky.

"Well, we'll need to allow for the colonists, but if you can give me an engineering detail, I think we can have it cracked in six or seven hours." Hewson answered, gratefully receiving the whiskey. "I've also supplied Perez with the specs to be able to generate a dispersion field around the Cleopatra."

"Good job." Sorrenstam replied, raising his glass to Hewson. "The engineers are at your disposal whenever you're ready."

Hendrix then proceeded to go over the specifics of the insertion again. He suggested possible approach vectors, alternate landing zones, rendezvous points, impressing everyone with his preparation. Hewson could see that even Sorrenstam satisfied.

Draining the last of his whisky, Thorpe turned to Hewson and put his hand on his shoulder.

"I know we've already discussed this, but when we're on the ground, we'll need you to be able to provide any and all technical support. That could mean logging onto the colony mainframe remotely, defeating security access points, or fixing those flashy gizmos of yours on the fly. In all honesty, probably all of the above, plus things we haven't even thought of yet."

"You can count on me." Hewson replied, unsure of what else to say. He then sat back and listened as Petterson and Thorpe talked tactics.

Firstly there would be a thorough search of the compound, and any colonists they encountered would be detained until they could be debriefed either on the planet, or back onboard the Cleopatra. Following the attack on the Sanctuary and Harrison's last communiqué, the council had ruled that Pathfinder was to be put out of commission by whatever means necessary. This essentially meant, that what had started out as a rescue mission, had now escalated into a search and destroy, which changed things dramatically.

With the exception of Thorpe and Sorrenstam, only those who had repelled the attack on the Sanctuary had ever opened fire on another human being, therefore their discussions also focussed on the psychological effects of the mission. As part of their training, all of Petterson's team had been through rigorous psychometric evaluations, just as Thorpe and Sorrenstam had back on Earth. They were all assessed bi-annually, but tests and scenario based training could only do so much. Nothing could ever fully prepare someone for how they dealt with the after effects of taking a life.

Hewson would have been lying if he said he wasn't scared. He was no coward, but this was a world he didn't understand, and quite honestly didn't want to. As much as he was an advocate for technology, right now he was in complete agreement with the council. Pathfinder was just too dangerous and needed to be destroyed.

The intake of alcohol had helped everyone to get through the evening, but it was obvious by the lack of decibels just how tired they all were.

"Right then." Sorrenstam said, standing up sharply. "I think we're done for tonight. I suggest we all get our heads down for a few hours."

*****

The Cleopatra entered the Carallan Nebula at 2500hrs local time. To acclimatise themselves to the twenty nine hour day, the crew and those chosen for the mission recalibrated their time pieces, though even with the additional five hours, the day passed quickly for all.

The insertion team had checked and re-checked all of their equipment and weaponry and were now waiting patiently for the green light. With only an hour remaining, Hewson and his team of engineers had built sixty phase emitters, providing one for each of the team, which left twenty six for the colonists, who worst case, would have to share.

Throughout the morning, Thorpe had advised the team as to what they might come up against in the jungle. One of the main risks he'd explained, was disturbing dead trees, which due to their sheer size, which could be anything up to sixty metres, could easily prove fatal. Thorpe emphasised this in particular as he handed out machetes to the team.

The last piece of equipment Thorpe provided was a large scale map of the surrounding area, which had been supplied courtesy a probe Sorrenstam had launched a few hours earlier. For operational security it didn't include any markings or waypoints, though Thorpe had made sure that everyone had memorised the LZ, RV and emergency RV coordinates.

Meanwhile on the Bridge, Sorrenstam had resumed the battle drills and had requested a level one ship wide diagnostic to be completed simultaneously. Though it was unlikely that the Cleopatra would under any direct assault, he knew all too well of the dangers of complacency.

As much as Sorrenstam loved his command, he now found himself wishing he could be part of the insertion team, after all, it was missions like these that he'd been trained for. Giving in to restlessness, Sorrenstam bolted out of his chair and grabbed his jacket.

"Perez, you've got the Bridge. I'll be in the cargo bay."

*****

All of the required ordnance had now been stowed on the dropship, which left the cargo bay looking positively empty. Cups of tea and ration packs were circulating freely and there was generally an air of confidence that only came from a fully prepared and trained unit. Some of the team had already claimed their seats on the dropship, while others sat propped up against bulkheads, electing to rest as much as possible before the off.

"Nice to be able to see my cargo bay again." Sorrenstam commented, as he approached Hewson and Thorpe.

"Well I told the boys that if we were all good and tidied up after ourselves, you might let us stay over again." Thorpe replied.

"We'll see." Sorrenstam laughed.

"Not that I need to tell you." Thorpe said. "But it is customary before heading out on a job to hone the hand and the eye with a little gunplay."

"Why do you think I'm down here? If I can't come and join in on the fun, I might as well show you all how to shoot straight!" Sorrenstam replied.

Thorpe led the way to the rifle range with the other officers and Hewson in tow.

"Allow me." Sorrenstam said walking across the room. He then punched the nine digit combination in to the weapons locker and selected five semi-automatic pistols, plus ear defenders and safety glasses, all of which he placed on a tray. Hewson, Petterson and Jackson were given Glock 9mms, which left two Browning 9mms for Sorrenstam and Thorpe.

Without any prompting, Petterson programmed the ranges to display five targets at a simulated distance of fifteen metres and for Hewson, who was a novice at best, he set the range to seven metres.

After some brief instruction, Hewson held the Glock in his left hand, trying to get a feel for its weight. He then pulled back the top slide, placed his right hand under the butt of the weapon and disengaged the safety.

Taking steady aim at the centre of the target, Hewson held his breath and squeezed the trigger. The first round was low and left, striking the man sized silhouette in the stomach. Aiming off the last round, Hewson continued to fire rhythmically, each shot working its way up toward the chest. Satisfyingly the last three rounds formed a group of about five centimetres across.

Petterson and Jackson were fairly evenly matched in proficiency, though with pistols, Jackson was just a hair more consistent and wasn't afraid to let Petterson know about it.

Petterson put ten rounds in the chest of his target and five rounds through the head, scoring 189 out of a possible 215. Keeping her grouping just a little tighter, Jackson scored 191.

"Hey you haven't been having a little bit too much _alone time_ have you?" Jackson said. "Because your eyes are definitely looking a little bit screwy today."

Sorrenstam and Thorpe were oblivious to the others, clearly engaged in their own personal competition. To warm up, both men fired a full clip, taking their time to gauge the accuracy of each weapon. They then stripped their pistols down to their component parts and placed them on the range in front of them. The challenge was to see who could assemble their weapon first and get the most rounds on target in twenty seconds.

After Sorrenstam had stopped firing he turned round to Hewson and said. "Professor, could we borrow you and your wristwatch for a moment please?"

By the time Sorrenstam had explained the rules to Hewson, Petterson and Jackson had also been drawn in, totally intrigued by the display.

Sorrenstam cracked his knuckles and readied himself, whilst Thorpe just stood there calmly surveying the dismantled weapon.

"He seems to be taking this fairly seriously doesn't he?" Thorpe said over his shoulder to the assembly. "Guess I'd better crank the concentration up a notch or two."

Hewson stood directly behind Thorpe and Sorrenstam and as the second hand of his watch approached twelve, he said. "On your marks, get set, GO!"

The speed in which both men assembled their pistols was phenomenal.

It wouldn't have surprised Hewson if either man could have accomplished the task blindfolded using only their feet. Less than five seconds later Sorrenstam's pistol was in one piece and he was ramming a clip into the butt of his weapon, with Thorpe only a fraction of a second behind him.

Leaning forward slightly, both men held their pistols loosely and with both eyes open began firing. At fifteen metres, to pick up maximum points, both men aimed only for head shots.

Hewson was amazed by the accuracy of the display, as neither man's grouping was any wider apart than a few centimetres. Another four seconds later and they were both reaching for their second magazine. With a repeat performance, they each loaded their third magazine and on the count of twenty both men had discharged their last round.

The computer readout indicated a score of 213 for Sorrenstam and 214 for Thorpe.

"Jesus Christ!" Jackson exclaimed.

"Been practicing then?" Sorrenstam asked, clearly irritated by his narrow loss.

"One tries." Thorpe replied, moving across to look at Hewson's results.

"That's some pretty good shooting there Rob."

"Yeah well, I'm in the little leagues compared to any of you guys." Hewson replied.

"But the point is most of those hits would have taken your man down." Thorpe said before picking up Hewson's Glock, removing the clip and pulling back the top slide to make sure the chamber was empty.

"The most important thing to remember is this." Thorpe continued. "If you're in a situation where you have to draw down on someone, then don't hesitate. I've seen people die because they didn't pull the trigger. Remember to aim for the chest. If you don't hit the heart, then there's the spine or the lungs. Either way your man's going down."

The imagery was neither pleasant nor relieving, but Hewson knew Thorpe had his best interests at heart.

"You stick by us Professor and you'll do fine." Jackson said "Just try not to stand in front of the Lieutenant here."

Ignoring Jackson Petterson said. "We'll have your back every step of the way. The only rule I've got is this, you don't go anywhere on your own, even if nature calls, OK?"

"Depending on how it goes down there, I think nature may be calling quite a lot." Hewson exclaimed, trying to hide his apprehension.

Chapter 11: To Arms

It was only when Hewson was back on the Dauntless and strapped into his chair that he felt the first waves of anxiety ripple through his body. Before he'd witnessed those terrible scenes on the CCTV footage, he'd felt sure that there would be a simple and innocent explanation for the loss of communication, though now he was under no illusion. They were about to go up against a well-armed and seemingly well organised enemy and with no combat experience, he was seriously concerned that he'd compromise the mission and end up with someone's blood on his hands.

Recognising a look he'd seen a thousand times, Thorpe leant over and spoke quietly into Hewson's ear. "I've seen all manner of men in my life Rob and they've all reacted differently under the pressure of combat. Some have frozen, others have raced in all guns blazing and nearly all of those guys got themselves and others killed. The one thing all the good ones had in common was the ability to react to a situation appropriately and proportionately." Thorpe paused then and put a hand on Hewson's shoulder. "And you're out of that same mould, so don't worry."

"Thanks." Hewson said humbly, though as the loading bay door closed, he couldn't help feeling like it was the lid to his own coffin.

"If you weren't feeling like this then I'd be far more concerned." Thorpe said calmly. "Fear and apprehension can give you an edge, the trick is not to be a slave to them."

Hewson sat back and tried to let Thorpe's words wash over him like a soothing tonic. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in Thorpe and the rest of the team, it was himself he doubted. To date his life had been one of academia, structure and order. He'd always felt in control of his own destiny, but now the way ahead was unclear. There were too many factors that had a direct bearing on whether the mission would succeed or fail. Though with such a large number of dead already, Hewson wondered if there was anything left to salvage from the situation. Perhaps the only true success now would be to return home with no further loss of life.

*****

In the cockpit Hendrix and Powell went through the last of their pre-flight checks. Mercifully the intense nature of the task didn't allow any time to worry about what they might be flying into.

"We've got green lights right across the board." Powell said putting his checklist back in the side pouch of his chair.

Hendrix nodded and then visually confirmed what his co-pilot had told him.

"Bridge, this is the Dauntless, request permission to depart, over."

"Permission granted." Sorrenstam answered immediately. "Good luck gentlemen. Sorrenstam out."

"Here we go then sweetheart. You be good to me and I'll be good to you." Hendrix said under his breath, while Powell lowered his head in silent prayer and kissed the crucifix hanging around his neck.

Having disengaged the docking clamps, Hendrix gradually increased power to the manoeuvring thrusters and pulled back on the controls. As he did so, the deck plating beneath them groaned as the twenty two tonne craft lifted off. With the cargo bay doors now fully open, Hendrix eased the Dauntless out backwards.

As they exited the Cleopatra, the small craft shook slightly, but as soon as they were clear, their own gravity field stabilised, leaving Hendrix free to navigate. Wasting no time, he opened the throttle and the Dauntless leapt away toward the shimmering orb below.

Sorrenstam had told the team that for the duration of the mission the Cleopatra would stay on the far side of the planet in a geo-synchronous orbit. With no satellites that they knew of, she would hopefully remain invisible to any ground sensors, however with each passing second, the same was not true of the Dauntless.

Hendrix knew that they would be at their most visible, and therefore most vulnerable, as they were entering the atmosphere. Even a low resolution sensor sweep would pick them up. With that in mind Hendrix had decided to enter the atmosphere above the Northern pole, knowing that the magnetic interference would help mask their approach. The downside was that they would have the unenviable task of navigating over three thousand kilometres of unknown terrain at high speed, all the while only a hundred metres off of the ground.

As the Dauntless started to penetrate the planets outer shroud, the whole ship started to shake violently. After another two minutes of very heavy buffeting, the Dauntless started to descend through what little cloud cover there was.

With fairly similar planetary conditions to the Earth of old, Ashen 2 also had ice caps at the North and South poles, so as the small craft continued to descend Hendrix and Powell were soon confronted by a dazzling white wilderness, the horizon completely dominated by glaciers and deep fissures. To negotiate the extremely hazardous terrain and stay below a hundred metres, Hendrix had to make hundreds of minor course corrections, relying solely on bearings given to him by Powell. After an hour of what felt like an extreme sport, both pilots were relieved to finally be out over open sea.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I could have your attention please." Hendrix said over the ship wide loudspeaker, between sips of coffee. "We're now leaving the Northern pole and at our current speed, we'll be over our LZ in approx. one hour, forty five minutes. Sadly there will be no inflight movie, but for those of you who lost your breakfast this morning, well I guess you're the entertainment. Enjoy."

Keeping his own breakfast under control had given Hewson a much needed confidence boost, but as he looked around the cabin he could see that a few other individuals were looking far less than stellar.

"I've been caught far too often on transfers with time to kill." Thorpe said to Hewson, removing a pack of cards from the breast pocket of his DPMs. "Can you play five card stud?"

"My Father showed me once as a kid, but I'm sure I'll pick it up again." Hewson replied.

"Hey don't forget to deal us in!" Jackson said, as she and Petterson turned to face Hewson and Thorpe. "Hope you guys have got something to bet with?"

"Let's play for food ration credits? I reckon you boys and girls should be good for a three course meal or two?"

"You're on!" Jackson said, rubbing her hands together.

It quickly became apparent to Hewson that everyone, apart from him was more than adept at cards. Petterson and Jackson won the first five games between them, but it wasn't long before Thorpe had the measure of them and within an hour, he'd struck even. He then went on to win the next five games in a row. Hewson had simply not got a look in.

*****

Ploughing on over open water, the Dauntless started to claw back some of the time spent negotiating the ice fields. Even from a hundred metres, the Dauntless' sheer velocity carved a deep furrow in the dark and turbulent surf below.

In the cockpit, Powell was looking at the Cleopatra's probes imagery on his portion of the heads-up display. Maintaining their current speed, he calculated they'd be over land in approximately six minutes and in all likelihood, some more creative navigating would be required.

"Do we know what's in that area?" Hendrix asked looking briefly at Powell's display.

"The resolution isn't great." Powell replied. "But it looks like we've got about two hundred kilometres of low lying land and then foothills for another hundred kilometres. After that, it's going to be pretty slow going, because it's all mountainous."

"Copy that." Hendrix acknowledged, feeling indifferent about the terrain. He was far more concerned about the sentry drones. Reaching forward he activated the ship wide loudspeaker. "We'll be over land shortly, so buckle up. If we can keep up a good turn of speed, we should be at the LZ in approximately thirty five minutes."

As Hendrix disengaged communications he hit the operational alert button on the centre console, changing the white cabin illumination to a soft red glow.

After Hendrix's announcement, Thorpe stood up and addressed the team.

"As planned, when we get to the LZ, if the canopy's too thick, we'll fast rope down. Regardless of how we land, we split into our designated groups and head straight for the tree line. We'll then provide cover for the Dauntless as she lifts off. All being well, we'll meet up at the RV at 2600hrs tomorrow evening. Obviously if any of the colonists are in tow, then it may affect our timescale on the ground, but we'll have to play that one by ear. Now, any questions?"

In the short time that Thorpe had known Petterson's team, he had trained with them, eaten with them and even traded stories with them. Now as they looked up at him, there was a confident silence that told Thorpe all he needed to know. They were ready.

*****

Hendrix could see the first of the foothills, so throttled back and took manual control of the Dauntless. It took only a minor effort on his part to weave between the small outcrops of rock and it wasn't long before their ascent levelled and they were over the jungle canopy.

A vast sea of vivid green pulsated fluidly with the head wind and was a stark contrast to the snow-capped mountains on the horizon. Neither Hendrix nor Powell could remember any view quite as fantastic as what they were witnessing then. To say they were enjoying the experience would have been an overstatement, but this was the most flight time either man had logged in months and if this had been an exercise, there were definitely worse places to be.

A few kilometres ahead the canopy thinned and off in the distance Hendrix saw more rock faces, though considerably larger than before. As they drew closer, there were frequent thermal variations, some of which proved to be quite intense. Everyone on board had been briefed as to what to expect, but as the powerful eddies shook the Dauntless, that knowledge was of little comfort.

Casting only the smallest of shadows across the red and yellow bluffs below, the Dauntless continued up on to a plateaux, before entering a maze of winding gullies, some narrowing to little more than the width of the ship. Due to their speed and proximity to the crags, small rocks continually struck the hull. None caused any damage, but neither did they do anything to settle the crew's nerves.

As they left another gulley behind them, Hendrix brought the Dauntless to a full stop at the mouth of a large valley. He could just make out a small river running below them, along which clasped a sprinkling of vegetation. As far as Hendrix could tell, the river was the only sign of life in what could have been a vast meteorite crater, but there was something about the expanse that made him feel uneasy.

"What's on the scope?" Hendrix asked.

"Sensors are clean. No anomalous readings." Powell answered.

Intuition then took over and Hendrix accelerated to an almost suicidal speed and took the ship down to just thirty metres.

"ALL HANDS. BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!!" Hendrix bellowed over the ship wide speaker.

Being so close to the ground, the Dauntless kicked up a huge dust cloud, which would have been visible for ten kilometres if it hadn't been for the depth of the valley.

"MISSILE LOCK!" Powell screamed, struggling to be heard over the sound of the master alarm, which he promptly disabled.

"Where?" Hendrix replied, already suspecting a sentry drone in an elevated position.

"Two o'clock, up on the ridge!" Powell answered without hesitation. "Missiles firing!"

Two surface to air missiles tore away from the drone and looped up and around in a wide arc before acquiring their target below.

The Dauntless was equipped with a fearsome arsenal, including four 30mm cannons, but since the sensors had already failed to detect the drone, Hendrix wasn't about to put his life in the hands of a computer. Thinking fast, he disengaged the targeting computer and took manual control. He knew the missiles themselves had two ways of tracking their target. Firstly by using internal sensors and secondly by registering a heat source. As their own sensors were only semi-functional, Hendrix hoped that the drone's sensors would fare no better and would have to rely on a heat signature, which he was about to provide. With the missiles closing rapidly, Hendrix flew as fast as he dared toward the far side of the valley. At close to the speed of sound, there was absolutely no room for error. The Dauntless mirrored the contours of the ground twenty metres below, while boulders and trees popped up out of nowhere and were barely avoided. With only seconds before destruction, Hendrix fired two of his own missiles at the rock face a thousand metres ahead. At the last possible moment he reversed thrust and banked sharply to the starboard, flying safely into another gulley.

At that same instant, Hendrix's rockets slammed into the valley wall and as he'd hoped, the explosion offered a far more inviting target for the pursuing missiles, which plunged into the maelstrom, creating a huge fireball of their own.

"What the hell just happened?" Hewson demanded.

"We were just lit up by a sentry drone and are bloody lucky to still be breathing!" Thorpe answered. "Remind me to buy Mr Hendrix and Mr Powell a pint after we're through here! Though on the not so shiny side, the enemy now know we're here."

"Do we change our LZ?" Petterson asked.

"No. The LZ is far enough away from our target, that our approach won't be heard, so for the time being, we stick to the plan."

Thorpe stood up and patted Hewson on the shoulder before making his way forward to the cockpit.

"Some fancy flying back there lads." Thorpe said looking from Hendrix to Powell. "How are we doing?"

"We got a little fried." Hendrix answered flippantly. "We've lost primary stabilisers and environmental controls, but otherwise she's holding together. Are we continuing to the LZ as planned?"

"Yes." Thorpe replied. "That is unless we run into any other sentry drones. How far out are we?"

"We should be on the ground in fifteen minutes." Powell said, inhaling sharply.

"Excellent. Let me know when we're two minutes out."

*****

For Hendrix and Powell, the only thing standing between them and the LZ was the snow-capped mountain range. To minimise the chance of the Dauntless showing up on any sensor sweeps, Hendrix knew he had to stay within a few metres of the mountain's surface. The rock however did have some electromagnetic properties, which would also help to conceal their approach.

"Hold on back there. I'm taking us over the back of the mountain." Hendrix announced to the crew.

Pulling back on the flight yoke, Hendrix took the Dauntless into a steep climb and it wasn't long before they passed through the cloud and were over the shoulder of the mountain.

Now on the far side, sunlight flooded the cockpit, forcing Hendrix and Powell to reach for their flight glasses. Facing the vastness of the rainforest again, they followed the edge of the mountainside and continued West. Now that they were out of the canyons, the Dauntless' sensors were functioning normally again, giving Powell some degree of confidence that he'd be able to spot any other sentry drones and box around them.

"Two minutes!" Hendrix announced over the loudspeaker.

Thorpe undid his harness, got up and went round to check that everyone was ready.

Now he was on the start line, Hewson found himself struggling for breath. It was like he was back at the Sanctuary and standing on the gantry outside the East entrance, staring down into the abyss. He tried to focus his thoughts on Kate and just about anything else and gradually he felt his diaphragm loosen, allowing him to take a few laboured breaths. Looking out of his window, he saw the Dauntless hugging the tree tops, before entering a small clearing and decelerating rapidly.

The instant that the altimeter read three metres, Powell lowered the loading ramp and hit a button on the central console that activated the aft green lighting.

With weapons ready, the thirty man team disembarked and sprinted for the tree line in their designated groups.

"Dauntless, we're all out and are providing cover for your departure, over." Thorpe said, speaking into the radio mike fasted to the collar of his DPMs.

"Roger Black One." Came the reply from Hendrix. "See you at the rendezvous. Dauntless out."

The deployment had taken no more than thirty seconds, so with the first part of their job completed, Hendrix and Powell headed straight for their lay-up point some fifty kilometres further North.

*****

Hewson lay on his stomach beside Thorpe and watched as the Dauntless moved away to the North. He fervently scanned the tree line with his pistol for anything even remotely resembling a human figure, though in his inexperience he'd forgotten to disengage the safety catch, something which Thorpe spotted and remedied immediately.

Once the Dauntless' engine note had faded, Hewson started to tune in to his new environment. Thorpe had told him that no two jungles were ever quite the same and that the only constants were the humidity, the insects and the threat of dehydration. Hewson had certainly felt the humidity the second he'd left the dropship, and now as they sat there on the jungle floor, the soundtrack was unlike anything he'd ever heard. All around was a bewildering variety of staccato chirps and squeals, some sounding almost mechanical. Hewson had downloaded and studied Joanna Davies' files, and apparently there were no large predators in the Rain Forest, but there were several breeds of poisonous reptile and arachnid. When he'd passed this information on to Thorpe, he'd told Hewson that it wasn't the wildlife they needed to be worried about, rather the correct treatment of minor injuries, as any kind of open wound, regardless of how small, would need immediate treatment. Even with modern medicines, jungles were the very last place you wanted to have an infection.

*****

Jackson allowed a full five minutes for the team to acclimatize and then slowly stood up and took a bearing from her compass. Confident of her orientation, she signalled Private Graham and Private Jones, and told them to support her as she took point.

Thorpe had chosen the LZ largely because of its proximity to the mountainside, as it was unlikely they'd be flanked, and it was also possible that the jungle would be lighter, which fortunately it was. For now at least, Jackson had no need for her machete and within an hour the foliage had thinned further still to reveal an area of grassland. With less natural cover, everyone broke into a staggered column and kept as low as they could.

The humidity had been bad enough under the canopy, but now as they ventured out into the open ground the heat of the sun was intense, making the temperature feel like it had increased by twenty degrees. As a reflex action to the heat, Jackson took a long draught from one of her water bottles. And whilst the bottle was still pressed up to her face, she heard something faintly over the drone of the insects. At first she thought it was a flock of birds lifting up out of the canopy, though as she moved toward the sound, she recognised it for what it was.

When choosing the LZ ten hours ago, the satellite imagery had shown a dried up river bed nearby and because of the LZ's prime location, everyone had dismissed the possibility that the area could become flooded, but now it looked like Mother-Nature had thrown them a curve ball.

"Best laid plans!" Jackson said to herself, looking on at the foaming water with some trepidation. "Black One, this is Black Three, over."

"Reading you Black Three, go ahead, over." Thorpe replied.

"We may have to get wet. Are these phase emitters going to be up to it, over?" Jackson asked.

"Black Three, this is Oracle." Hewson said, over the net. "The emitters are sealed in carbon fibre. They'll be fine, over."

"Roger that." Jackson said. "Black three out."

As Jackson, Graham and Jones continued forward, the water sounded increasingly powerful and left no doubt in their mind that crossing it would present a serious risk.

Nearing the riverside, Jackson took off her bergen and removed a fifty metre length of high tensile wire. She attached one end of the wire to a specially designed clasp on her belt and then attached the other to a nearby tree.

"Reel me in if I get into trouble." Jackson said, wading into the water up to her waist.

With the water coming down off of the snow-capped mountain, it was far colder than the ambient temperature and took Jackson's breath away.

Spotting a small outcrop of rock just below the surface of the water, Jackson moved to her left and clambered on top of it. She then stood still for a moment, trying to gauge how rapidly the water was flowing. She knew she could make it across, but the current would most likely take her thirty metres downstream. Without any further thought she dived in.

The water grabbed Jackson instantly, but being a strong swimmer, she battled on. Halfway across however the current intensified, making her move almost sideways. Just as she was beginning to wonder if she'd underestimated the ferocity of the water, her feet brushed the river bed. With one last effort, Jackson drove herself forward and up on to the bank.

Lying on her back, she allowed herself a moment to recover, then rolled over and released the wire from her belt. Securing it to a tree, she then signalled Graham and Jones to make their own way across. The three then covered the rest of the team as they did same.

With everyone safely across, Jackson moved over to Ramirez and Riley who were busy checking their equipment. The three had been tasked with going ahead and getting eyes on the compound and since Ramirez and Riley were the designated sniper team, it was vital their equipment had survived the river crossing. After a few nervous moments, everything got a clean bill of health.

Before setting off into the jungle again, Jackson examined her map closely. She could tell by the location of the sun they were heading in the right direction, but not wanting to tempt providence, she took another bearing from her compass, which confirmed they were still heading due East. With the sun on their backs, she hoped it would dazzle any unfriendly eyes and give them a chance to take quick and decisive control of the compound.

*****

At the back of the pack, Hewson found he was keeping pace with the others just fine, but he couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd felt so uncomfortable. He'd nearly finished the first of his three water bottles, but felt like he had sweated ten times that amount, and courtesy of several insect bites, his head itched unrelentingly. Everyone had been given a powerful anti-histamine before leaving the Cleopatra, but apparently the indigenous population of the rain forest hadn't got the memo.

In contrast, Thorpe appeared comfortable and wasn't sweating too heavily at all. In fact under other circumstances Hewson could quite easily have imagined him whistling as he walked and cracking jokes.

Having made some progress now, Hewson felt more settled, so had taken Thorpe's advice by holstering his pistol. Beneficially this had given him another free hand with which to swot the insects. Looking above him, Hewson recognised some of the rock formations from the satellite imagery and guessed they were probably half way to the compound.

*****

Halted momentarily by a length of barbed vine, Jackson took the opportunity to take another bearing from her compass. After freeing herself, she changed direction and led them North East, away from the mountainside and into some far heavier secondary jungle, which periodically required them to use their machetes.

The plan was for Jackson to cover the sniper team until they found an elevated position and then Ramirez and Riley would provide support as the team approached.

After another five minutes had passed, Jackson saw shards of sunlight penetrating the canopy and as they continued the foliage thinned to reveal the edge of the tree line. The leaf litter gave way to a light red rock and as they'd seen on the satellite imagery, there was a significant drop off. Crawling on her stomach, Jackson moved over to the edge. Below she saw a sixty metre sheer face and then beyond that, the compound. There was also a large fissure twenty metres further along the crest. Taking full advantage of their good fortune, Jackson kept as low as she could and threw herself into the fissure. She then signalled Ramirez and Riley to follow her inside.

"I think you've found yourself a pretty decent perch, huh?" Jackson whispered to her two counterparts before opening a channel to Thorpe. "Black One, this is Black Three. Green One and Green Two are in position and should be open for business soon, over."

"Understood." Came the immediate reply from Thorpe. "Will proceed on target, over."

"Affirmative. Be advised, the rock face extends further North than previously thought. You'll need to proceed North East for approximately five hundred metres, over."

"Understood. Black One out." Thorpe said.

*****

Ramirez breathed a sigh of relief as he took off his bergen. In addition to his MP5SD, ammo pouches, belt kit and water, he was also carrying the Spitfire, which at fifteen kilos was an inconvenience to anyone. Very carefully he removed a large rubberised case from his bergen and placed it gently on the rock beside him. Undoing the three latches on the case, Ramirez opened the lid, to reveal the disassembled Spitfire. He'd been training with it for over a year now, though on this occasion it had been fitted with a suppressor. It was true that the suppressor would help to minimise the muzzle flare and the sound generated by the weapon, but it also reduced its accuracy. Thorpe had discussed this with Ramirez and with so many unpredictable elements to contend with, they'd agreed that having the ability to silently neutralise targets at range was too much of an advantage to pass up. The whole compound only measured seven hundred and fifty metres, so with the exception of wind and visibility, Ramirez didn't foresee any difficulties at all.

It took only a few seconds for him to assemble the rifle. With the bulbous suppressor fitted to its muzzle, the Spitfire was close to two metres long, making it even more un-wieldy than normal. Making only the slightest of well-oiled clicks, Ramirez pulled back the moving parts and loaded the first round. Then from another compartment in his case, he removed a small phial of clear liquid. Carefully he removed a plug from one end of the phial and lifted it up to his left eye. Flicking his head back, he let the fluid go to work for a few seconds, before raising his head again and replacing the phial.

"How's the eye?" Ramirez asked.

"Double glazed." Came the reply from Riley.

"Cool. Then let's see what we can see."

Placing his sniper mat precisely on the rock, Ramirez settled and extended the rifle's bipod. He then pushed a button on the side of the scope, activating the optics, which emitted a high pitched whine.

Riley positioned himself next to his partner and from his own bergen produced a small laptop and a pair of digital field glasses. Once the laptop was ready, he synchronised his computer with the Spitfire's scope and watched intently as Ramirez panned over the South side of the compound.

After their first sweep, they saw no movement from below. Neither did they see any obvious damage to any of the buildings or surrounding structures. Though most importantly, there were no dead bodies littering the grounds. Without taking his eyes off the compound, Ramirez opened a channel to Thorpe and provided him with an update.

"OK I'm out of here guys. Watch your backs." Jackson said after Ramirez had signed off. She then lifted herself out of the fissure and crawled back in to the tree line.

*****

The rest of the team were only a couple of hundred metres from the East perimeter and the ground was now really starting to run away from them downhill. The steep incline was also slick due to rainfall, so the team had to use the tree trunks to steady themselves as they descended.

Alternately, Ramirez and Riley took turns watching for the team's approach from the North, whilst the other kept a wary eye on the compound and surrounding tree line.

Having negotiated the muddy slope, Petterson went on alone and nudged through the foliage until he found himself in open ground. Twenty metres ahead was a drainage trench, which was the only piece of cover between the tree line and the first of the outbuildings some two hundred metres away. Keeping low, and with his weapon in both hands, Petterson sprinted for the trench and jumped in. Producing a pair of field glasses from his belt, Petterson methodically scanned the main throughfare and surrounding buildings, completely oblivious to the half metre of stagnant water he was lying in. Still there was no movement. Petterson was just about to replace the field glasses when he saw something out of the corner of his eye, something that didn't belong.

Three hundred metres ahead, partially obscured by shadow were two figures standing outside one of the buildings. It was the irregular shape of the assault rifles they were holding that Petterson had first registered.

"Black One, this is Black Two come in, over."

"Go ahead Black Two." Thorpe answered.

"Be advised, we have two subjects, one male one female, situated approximately three hundred metres South of my position. They're standing outside the second to last building on the East side. Both are armed with automatic weapons, over." Petterson said softly.

"Understood. Green One, did you copy that, over?"

"Roger that Black One. We can't get an angle from here. We're moving to get eyes on target now, over." Ramirez replied.

"All other call signs." Petterson said. "Converge on my position now. Black Two out."

******

Having remained at the top of the slope with Thorpe, Hewson looked around nervously. He knew they were only a few hundred metres from the perimeter, but the foliage here was so thick, he couldn't see any part of the structures, or even the sky for that matter.

Hearing a rustle of leaves from behind him, he turned round sharply and with unsteady hands raised his pistol. Watching intently in the direction of the noise, he hoped it had only been an animal.

From behind Hewson, Jackson materialised.

Stepping forwards silently, she applied the safety catch on Hewson's pistol and winked at Thorpe, letting him know that she'd got the drop on both of them.

Wasting no time, they slid down the embankment and crawled over to the rest of the team who were lying in the drainage trench.

Hewson was glad that events were moving along so rapidly, as he hadn't had too much time to think about anything, though now as he crawled forwards, the only thing convincing him that this wasn't some terribly surreal dream was the discomfort he felt as his pistol dug into his hip.

Once they'd taken up position next to Petterson, Thorpe produced his field glasses and looked over in the direction of the two targets.

"Very kind of them to stand out in open like that for us." Thorpe said. "I wonder where their friends are?" Thorpe then removed a small watertight case from his bergen, out of which he took a miniature laptop, identical to the one Riley had. He then switched the computer on and a couple of seconds later a live feed from the Spitfire appeared.

Looking over Thorpe's shoulder, Hewson could see that Ramirez and Riley had found another layup point, as Ramirez had the Spitfire's recticle aimed squarely at the male subject's head.

"I wonder if his ears are burning?" Thorpe said. "Green One, I see you've acquired the targets. We're going to move up a little closer. I'll signal again when we're in position, over."

"Understood, Green One out." Riley acknowledged.

"Lieutenant." Thorpe said formally to Petterson. "Take half a dozen men and come up on the targets from the West side of the compound. Sgt. Jackson, you take the rest of the team and approach from the East side. Ramirez and Riley will coordinate our movements from above."

Petterson and Jackson simply nodded and went on their way, selecting people for the task as they crawled out of the trench.

"Rob." Thorpe said. "You stay close to me."

"Will do." Hewson replied, knowing all he could do now was let himself be carried along in the whirlwind.

*****

As Ramirez watched from above, nothing about the situation felt right to him. If these two colonists were keeping watch, then they could easily have positioned themselves somewhere out of sight. It simply made no sense for them to be out in the open. There was also their total lack of movement. There didn't appear to be any obvious chest rhythm, indicating normal respiratory behaviour. So the pair were either dead, or they were in some form of deep trance, possibly as a result of narcotics.

*****

Using the shrubs and hedgerows as cover, Petterson and Jackson led their teams toward the targets, though also kept a wary eye on the tree line.

"Still no movement from either target." Ramirez said over the net.

"This is feeling more and more like an ambush." Thorpe said quietly, but not quietly enough to be out of earshot of Hewson, who took no comfort from the comment at all.

After an agonisingly long ten minutes, both teams had worked their way to within fifty metres of the targets, though couldn't risk getting any closer.

"This is Black Two." Petterson said. "We're in position, over."

"Roger that Black Two." Thorpe said. Opening the laptop, he used the stylus and tapped the screen twice where the man stood, designating him as Ramirez's primary target.

"You have the male target and Green One has the female target." Thorpe said. He then repeated the command to be sure that Petterson and Ramirez had understood. "Take them alive if you can, though if you think they're about to fire, you have permission to terminate."

"Roger that. Black Two out."

With his MP5SD pressed firmly into his shoulder, Petterson sprang into action. "SECURITY FORCES! THROW DOWN YOUR WEAPONS AND GET DOWN ON THE GROUND, NOW!!"

The man and the woman turned to face Petterson and stared blankly at him, showing no emotion whatsoever. It was like their minds were a void and they were waiting for instruction. Then with unbelievable speed, they came alive and raised their weapons.

Without hesitation Ramirez went weapons free and fired a round from the Spitfire.

From Petterson's vantage point the male target's head simply disappeared.

Petterson then fired a three round burst from his own weapon. All of the rounds thudded into the woman's sternum, though amazingly they didn't seem to have any effect. Instead she continued to draw down on Petterson, her face completely expressionless, her eyes never leaving his.

Having seen the whole exchange from above, Ramirez took aim at the woman's chest, though as he fired, she moved to her left and the .70 calibre round only creased her right arm. The force of the impact however was still enough to knock her off her feet and cause her weapon to fall to the ground beside her.

Making a split second decision, Petterson sprinted towards the woman, trying to narrow the gap before she could recover. If she was wearing a bullet proof vest and he could get to her in time, then maybe he could take her alive and interrogate her.

Petterson didn't get any further than twenty metres, before the woman sat bolt upright, and started to reach for her weapon. Responding to the threat, Petterson fired repeatedly. Round after round smashed into her body with little or no effect. It was only after a single round struck her in the forehead that she finally lay still.

Having reached the woman, Petterson kicked the rifle out of her hands and looked down at the bloodied tatters of her blouse. He could see that the first three rounds had caught her in the heart.

"Black One, both targets are down." Petterson said. "Green Seven, get your ass over here now!"

Corporal Gates, who was one of three fully trained field medics, sprinted forwards with his trauma kit and stopped beside Petterson.

"Get a blood sample." Petterson said, still finding it hard to believe what he'd seen.

"Shouldn't be too difficult." Gates replied.

*****

Still wary of the tree line, Hewson and Thorpe moved in with the rest of the team who created a defensive perimeter around Petterson and Gates.

"Report." Thorpe said with some distaste as he surveyed the scene.

"She took three to the heart sir." Petterson said, showing Thorpe the wounds. "I've never seen anything like it. If it hadn't been for Ramirez taking her off balance, she would've got the drop on me."

"I guess we'll have to aim our sights a little higher?" Thorpe said, looking down at the single bullet wound to the woman's head. "IDs?"

Petterson put on a pair of latex gloves and removed the ID tags that hung from the belt loops of each body.

"Jayne Caldry and Joseph McIntyre." Petterson said after examining the tags and referring to a copy of the personnel records. "They're both members of the science team."

After Gates had finished taking a swab from the male subject he stood up and faced Thorpe and Petterson. "We should know in about twenty minutes if their blood contains any known narcotics or contagions."

"OK. Carry on." Thorpe said. "Petterson, Jackson. I want you to search the outbuildings. Start at the North perimeter and finish at the storm drain on the South side. If you see anything or anyone, you call it in immediately. Understood?"

*****

As Hewson looked down the centre of the small hamlet, it was difficult to believe that anything untoward had ever happened. The well maintained gardens and brightly decorated buildings said nothing of the violence and savagery that had occurred only a few days before, and with the exception of the two dead bodies in his periphery, there were no signs of a disturbance at all.

With Hewson still lost in thought, Thorpe approached him, and with a gentle hand on his shoulder, turned him toward the bodies.

"Rob. I know this is the first time you've seen anything like this, but there's a lesson to be learnt here. We do what we have to do, so that this doesn't happen to those we love."

"Yeah. I've got it." Hewson said weakly. "Do you think anyone heard those shots?"

"It's not that that bothers me." Thorpe replied. "Harrison told us the Sanctuary was hit by a team of ten, and since this place has fifty six scientists and ten military personnel, where the hell is everybody else?"

*****

Setting off in separate directions, Petterson's team moved across to the residential suites, whilst Jackson and her team continued down the slope to the Chapel.

Similar to the council chamber in the Sanctuary, the Chapel had been built almost entirely from stone. The mountain and the rainforest had provided the raw materials and the imagination and hard work of the colonists had done the rest. Dimensionally the building was by no means grand, but it was beautifully crafted and stood apart from every other structure in the compound.

As Jackson approached the Chapel, alarm bells rang out immediately. Both of its high hardwood doors were standing invitingly open. Erring on the side of caution, she split her team into two groups of four and came at the building from both sides. Wanting to get a glimpse of the interior, she pressed her face up against one of the windows, but the level of ambient light and density of the heavily stained glass made it impossible.

Moving on, they converged at the rear of the building. It was then they discovered the blood sprayed across the wall from Jakande's last stand, and with no other way inside, they cautiously moved back to the entrance.

Crouching behind one of the hardwood doors, Jackson put on her night vision goggles, and peered around the corner of the door, looking for trip wires, infrared beams or any other foreign objects hidden in the gloom. Seeing no obvious cause for concern, she silently signalled Carling and Tyler, telling them she wanted to make entry. Training their weapons at head height, they moved inside.

Jackson headed centrally between the pews, leaving her two subordinates to cover either side of the room.

Again, there was nothing out of place and after a quick search of the presbytery Jackson opened a channel to Thorpe to update him.

*****

Meanwhile Petterson and his half of the team were approaching the first half dozen outbuildings, reserved for the higher ranking members of the science team. Fixed to the wall of the last building in the row, was a stone plaque that read, 'Dr Joanna Davies'.

Gently, Petterson tried the door handle and turned it just enough to confirm it was unlocked. With his left hand, he silently gave a three second countdown, and then with the support of two others, burst into the room. Again, there were no signs of a disturbance. The domicile was approximately four metres by five metres, with very little in the way of furnishings or décor. On the far side of the room was a single divan with a bedside table and to the right of that, a collapsible fabric wardrobe and a refrigerator. To the left of the door were some pencil sketches of the local fauna, while opposite them, was a row of empty specimen jars.

The only thing in the room that struck Petterson as even slightly odd was an untouched bowl of oatmeal that sat on Davies' bedside table. It must have been there for at least three days, as it was now covered in a film of pale blue mould. It appeared as though Joanna Davies had gotten up one day, made herself breakfast and then vanished without a trace.

*****

With all of the senior staff's quarters searched, Petterson's and Jackson's teams converged on the halls of residence, which also housed accommodation for the military personnel. The building's front face was completely nondescript, its outer skin made up of a network of grey metallic panels and glass. The only colour came from the flowers and shrubs that were planted at its base, which fanned out across the wall and reached several metres into the air.

To Petterson it looked as though the entire structure was unfinished and still wore only its primer paint. Evidently even the Sanctuary's best minds had decided they wouldn't be able to dress the place up, so didn't waste any time trying.

Keeping low, Petterson and Jackson stopped either side of the double doors and noticed that they too had been left slightly ajar. The building's expansive windows made it easy to get a good look at the interior of the ground floor, but even so, Jackson repeated the same drill as she had performed at the Chapel. Once she had confirmed that the entrance way was clear of booby traps, she removed her night vision goggles and filed inside with her team, taking up defensive positions either side of the entrance corridor.

Thirty metres inside, the corridor forked in three separate directions. The blueprints confirmed that the ground floor dormitory was off to the left and to the right was a stairwell that led to another dormitory on the first floor. Straight ahead was the military accommodation, which was where Petterson headed with a three man team, leaving Jackson to search the rest of the building.

With his index finger brushing the trigger guard of his MP5SD, Petterson stalked silently down the corridor. The overhead lighting in this part of the building had been left on, so he now knew that the compound still had power. With any luck, that also meant the security doors wouldn't be on lock down.

Directly ahead the corridor veered ninety degrees to the right, so Petterson stopped and produced a small dental mirror from his belt kit. Carefully he held the mirror up to the corner and saw an open doorway. Beyond that, he could just make out a couple of old bunk beds.

All of his unit had spent hundreds of hours practicing close quarters battle in several specially designed rooms back at the Sanctuary, but this was the real thing. Banishing the thought from his mind, Petterson counted down from three and then all four men made entry.

A few tense moments later Petterson announced over the net that the room was clear and shortly after, Jackson reported in, confirming the same.

*****

With the building clear, Hewson and Thorpe made their own way forward and entered the military accommodation. As soon as they entered, their eyes and everyone else's were drawn to the large reinforced steel door at the far end of the room. Above the open door was a white plaque, on which was only one word printed in large black lettering.

'ARMOURY'

Thorpe walked forward and saw that it was completely empty. He knew exactly what munitions had been stored on site and now as he took in the empty shelves and gun racks, he felt like he'd been dealt a body blow.

"This changes nothing." Thorpe said, barely able to mask the anger in his voice. "If anything, we now know exactly what we're up against!"

Chapter 12: Aftermath

After the attack on the Sanctuary, Kate had worked for twenty four hours straight to aid the repair effort in the main habitat. The community spirit exhibited by everyone had been amazing. Right from the top down, Harrison and the other council members had all helped to clear the debris. Even Yoshida had made an effort to bury the hatchet with Harrison, and on that first terrible night, had worked side by side, into the early hours of the morning.

In the courtyard of Café Rouge, Kate and Diane Coolidge tried in vain to scrub away the pooled blood stains of the victims, whilst behind them an engineering detail replaced the buildings shattered glass front.

The main habitat may have been showing signs of restoration, but Kate knew that the psychological trauma caused by the attack was going to take far longer to fade. Deciding to abandon their task for the moment, Kate and Diane covered over what was left of the blood with an arrangement of flower pots.

As they looked around, their eyes surveyed the damage to the other establishments and then they came to rest on the charred remains of Hank's. David Callahan had been inside preparing food for the coming day when the singularity had opened. Within moments the bar's glass front had been put through by gunfire and a grenade thrown inside. Callahan himself had been knocked unconscious by the explosion and then perished in the fire that had consumed most of the building.

With her thoughts divided between the Sanctuary's dead and dying and her husband, Kate's emotional barriers weakened.

Sensing her pain, Diane walked over to Kate and embraced her fiercely.

"Don't you worry honey, he'll be back in one piece, you'll see. Besides, do you really think he could stay away from a pretty young thing like you?"

Kate managed a laugh in spite of the situation and was glad of the companionship.

In need of a break, Diane took off her customary pink apron and threw it down on a nearby table.

"Come on. What do you say us girls go and have a walk, and leave the fellas here to get on with the work!"

*****

Back on Ashen 2, there was only the infirmary and the science labs left to search.

The infirmary was of a similar construction to the halls of residence, though the windows were heavily tinted, making it much more difficult to ascertain who or what was inside. With safety in mind, the team avoided the walls of glass that fronted three sides of the building and took up position behind the concrete support pillars.

Running over to the East wing of the infirmary, Thorpe and Hewson crouched down beside Petterson who proceeded to provide Thorpe with an update.

"We're putting probes into each corner of the building now, so in a few minutes we'll be able to take a look inside." Petterson said as Corporal Smith drilled a minute hole into the corner of one of the windows. Extremely cautiously, Smith removed the drill and inserted a fibre optic probe.

"I can see a large room, approximately 20 metres by 10." Smith said. "There are also three bodies laid out on what look like mortuary tables."

Once reports had come in from all four corners of the building, Thorpe instructed Petterson to make entry.

Selecting a team of five, Petterson told Jackson and her team to follow them inside once they'd cleared the entrance corridor.

Crawling around to the front of the infirmary, Petterson's team approached the glass doors from either side. Surrounding them was a stone archway, which provided good cover, so he took his time to examine the door's construction. Once satisfied, Petterson reached down to his belt kit and produced a small, flat electronic device and a telescopic grabbing arm. Extending the arm, he attached the device to the end of it and then being careful not to silhouette himself in the glass, he leant across the widest part of the metal framework until he reached the centre. Sliding the slender piece of metal between the doors, he pushed until it locked itself in place, and with only two millimetres of the device protruding on the other side of the doors, the scanning cycle began. Ten seconds later, Petterson withdrew the grabbing arm and examined the results. The display confirmed the door was unlocked and that there were no explosives or trip wires within ten metres of its inside edge.

Controlling his breathing, Petterson gave his team the thumbs up and counted down from three with his left hand. On zero they moved inside.

The instant Petterson crossed the threshold, the unmistakable smell of decay hit him. So intense was the experience, he had to breathe through his mouth just to control the gag reflex. Perhaps it was the well-lit corridor and seemingly sterile environment that magnified the stench, but whatever the reason, the smell was so overpowering it felt like tactile contact.

As planned, Petterson's team continued down the corridor and as Jackson's team moved in behind them, they too struggled to keep their focus.

Similar to the halls of residence, there was one central corridor that ran down the length of the building, off of which were two wards, an operating theatre, the laboratory and the morgue. With five rooms to search, they fanned out into groups of three.

Hewson and Thorpe waited outside with the rest of the team anxiously, and two minutes later they heard Petterson announce over the net that the building was clear. His voice however sounded uneven, without its usual strength and control. Something was wrong, that much was obvious.

*****

As Hewson entered the infirmary with Thorpe, he put a hand up defensively to his face to try and block out the stench, though with each breathe his mind conjured terrifying images of what lay ahead. He for one doubted they'd find any allies, and in some way that actually made him feel better, as who was to say they could trust anyone they did run in to.

Breaking the spell, Petterson and Jackson appeared from one of the side corridors. Their weapons were down by their side and whatever they'd found had clearly disturbed them.

"I think you'd better come and take a look at this." Petterson said.

The smell inside the morgue was almost unbearable.

There were six stainless steel post mortem tables, laid out in two banks of three. On each of the tables, was an assortment of human body parts, all in varying stages of decomposition.

Hewson stared at the table nearest to him. On it, laid a torso of a man that had neither arms nor legs. Perhaps the macabre scene was too much for Hewson's mind to fully process, but he actually found himself walking toward the table for a closer inspection. There was something that didn't look anatomically correct to him about the structure of the rib cage. And it was then he noticed it.

"Guys!" Hewson said, making an extreme effort to remove his hand from his face. "Look at the ribs. They've been fused with some kind of alloy!? And there's a length of electrical conduit running up through the spine."

Moving to another of the tables, Hewson saw a woman's skull that had been partially flayed. Where her left eye had been there was now something that resembled the lens of a camera, and at the base of her skull was a cluster of wires that spread out across the surface of the table. As he examined the rest of the remains, he could see that they'd all been augmented in some way.

"What the hell is going on here?" Thorpe asked rhetorically.

"It looks to me like someone may have been trying to construct a cyborg." Hewson offered.

"Why?" Thorpe said, this time wanting answers, but Hewson had none to give.

"Lieutenant Petterson." Thorpe said eventually. "Is there a crematorium or furnace on site?"

"There's a furnace down in the basement sir." Petterson replied.

"Good. Take these remains below and burn them. Professor Hewson and I are going to take a look at the science labs. When you're done here post ten men outside the infirmary and then go and check out the storm drain on the South side."

*****

A short distance from the infirmary, on the opposite side of the street was the main laboratory. The entire building had been constructed from reinforced concrete. There was only one floor and no windows, so it had a very squat and sinister looking profile. Facing the main throughfare was a steel pressure door, and to the right of that, was an alphanumeric keypad and display screen.

Before they'd left the Sanctuary, Harrison had supplied Hewson with an override code for all of the security access points. Hewson had memorised the code, but since the security systems had already been compromised, it was possible that the override code had been changed also.

As they approached the laboratory, Corporal Gates ran across the street to speak to Thorpe.

"Colonel Thorpe. I've completed the scan of the blood samples and I've got some disturbing news, I'm afraid."

"Go on." Thorpe said, looking up at the sky, which had started to turn grey with cloud.

"Neither the man or the woman had any traces of narcotics or contagion in their blood." Gates said slowly.

"What's the bad news?" Thorpe queried.

"Their DNA appears to have been fundamentally altered." Gates replied.

"How so?" Hewson interjected.

"Each subject is showing an extra five thousand base pair sequences." Gates answered.

"Forgive me." Thorpe said sharply. "But I didn't get this month's edition of 'Genetics 101'. What exactly are you telling me Corporal?"

"Basically sir, neither subject's genetic makeup reads entirely as human any more. They may have been in the midst of some kind of metamorphosis." Gates said, scarcely able to believe what he'd just said.

"How's that possible?" Thorpe asked

"Beats me Colonel." Gates replied.

Hewson looked at the data on the medi scan for himself and then looked back at Thorpe and carried on where Gates had left off.

"Back in the 20th century, the holy grail to all geneticists was to unlock the human genome. To map it, in its entirety, would be to cure all genetic abnormalities forever. No illness, no undesirable physical forms and no aging. Whoever is behind this has a technology far superior to us."

"So what are we talking about here? Freaking ET with a grudge?" Jackson asked incredulously.

"I think all we can do right now is get that door open and try and find ourselves some answers." Thorpe replied. "Over to you Rob."

Approaching the pressure door, Hewson could see there was still traces of early morning dew on the keypad and display screen. After wiping the surface of each with his shirt sleeve, he anxiously tapped in the ten digit override code.

The cursor flashed for an agonisingly long five seconds, before the computer finally acquiesced and released the deadbolts to the pressure door. Silently the door opened outwards, allowing Jackson, Stevens and Kilpatrick to move inside.

Now with full access to the computer terminal, Hewson brought up a log which listed the last twenty entries to the lab, by name and date. The last person to access the door had been someone called Stephanie Ford ,and that had been six days ago.

"Black One. This is Black Three." Jackson whispered over the net. We've cleared the entrance corridor and are holding at an interior pressure door. Come on in, over."

"Roger that Black Three. We're on our way. Black One out."

As Hewson and Thorpe entered the concrete fortress, the powerful overhead lighting reflected brightly off the white-washed walls, making Hewson feel very exposed. His hand brushed the top of his pistol and instinctively he released the plastic catch on the holster.

Both men walked cautiously forwards and as they reached the ninety degree turn in the corridor, they stopped. Crouching down, Thorpe took a quick look around the corner and saw Jackson, who signalled him to keep flush against the wall and move on up.

Keeping low, Hewson and Thorpe moved down the corridor and joined Jackson and the others.

Breathing steadily to control his nerves, Hewson placed his hand on the pressure door's keypad and again, very anxiously, entered the override code. Each key stroke sounded impossibly loud and echoed throughout the length of the corridor. Once he'd finish, Hewson stood back and watched the flashing cursor, until finally the door yielded.

Jackson, Stevens and Kilpatrick quickly moved inside, though this time with Thorpe and Hewson in support also.

A large open space greeted them with work benches, computer stations and electrical equipment arranged around the outside edge of the room.

Recognising the lab instantly from the security footage, Hewson's heart rate was sent soaring, his thoughts returning to Sykes and Braymer.

Leaving Thorpe and Hewson at the door, Jackson and the others ran over to check the adjoining rooms and a moment later, reappeared confirming they were both clear.

Still unsettled, Hewson walked around the room wide eyed and it was then he registered the empty space at its centre.

"It's gone!" Hewson stammered.

By the time Thorpe and the others had caught on to what Hewson had said, he was already standing at the centre of the room examining the spot where Pathfinder had been.

"How could they have moved a piece of equipment like that?" Thorpe asked

"I think the real question is, where's it been moved to?" Hewson said looking around the room. He then noticed that the South wall wasn't made of concrete at all. It was constructed from the same alloy as the pressure doors. Leaping over a row of work benches, Hewson approached a small control panel and punched in the override code. As soon as he had entered the last key stroke, orange hazard lights started to flash in each corner of the room. The South wall then split down the centre and receded in either direction to reveal the harsh light of day.

"Well I guess this is how they got Pathfinder out of the room, but they would have needed a crane to move it." Hewson said.

"Could it have been dismantled and then reassembled?" Thorpe asked

"Sure." Hewson said. "If you've got a couple of weeks to put it back together again! But we know Pathfinder was active four days ago and the last person to enter this lab was six days ago. So it must have been moved in one piece somehow?"

*****

On the other side of the compound Petterson, Giles and Dietrich walked along the edge of the storm drain, whilst Riley and Ramirez kept a watchful eye from on high.

"This place stinks boss!" Dietrich complained.

"Not as bad as that furnace." Petterson replied, screwing his face up at the thought.

Taking one hand off of his weapon, Petterson opened a channel to Ramirez and Riley. "Green One, Green Two, this is Black Two. Come in over."

"Reading you loud and clear LT." Came the reply from Riley, who swung his field glasses across and focussed on Petterson. "Hate to tell you this sir, but from here it looks like you might be getting a little bit thin on top."

Once Petterson had acknowledged Riley's observation with a one finger salute he continued. "After we're done down here, I want you to shut up shop and RV with us."

"Roger that LT. We've got your back until the flip side, Green One out."

Almost at the end of the drain, Petterson stopped and looked down. Some three metres below him, he could see there was something metallic reflecting in the sun. Leaning down on one knee, Petterson tried to get a better look, but his view was obstructed by tall grass and broken tree branches. With Dietrich and Giles in support, Petterson slung his weapon across his back and carefully lowered himself down into the drain. It was difficult to find any firm footing, as all manner of debris had fallen down from the hillside and come to rest in the drain. In fact with this level of obstruction, Petterson was amazed that the whole compound hadn't turned into one giant swamp. As expected, after only a few steps, he was up to his knees in water. Very slowly Petterson waded through the thick blades of grass, and then he saw what it was that had gotten his attention. Veiled by the lustrous flora was an engraved bronze plaque, commemorating the construction of the drain. Though the plaque only held his attention for a few seconds.

"There's a grill back here boys, and a pretty big soak hole." Petterson said. "Give me a hand with these branches."

After a few seconds, it became clear that the branches had been threaded through the lattice work of the grill and anchored from the inside.

"Someone's been trying to cover their tracks here." Petterson said, reaching for his knife. "We're going to need to cut through these."

After a few minutes they were standing in front of the exposed grill, which was attached to a rusted steel frame by two large hinges.

"There's a sizeable cavern down there." Petterson said, standing closer to examine the opening, which was easily large enough for a person to pass through. "I think we'd better call this in."

*****

Hoping to find out exactly where and when Pathfinder had been taken, Hewson accessed the mainframe again. He knew Pathfinder would consume a significant amount of power even in standby mode, so he accessed the power grid master controls and started to write an ad-hoc report to identify the power consumption rates for the last month.

"Black One, This is Black Two, over." Petterson said over the net.

"Go ahead Black Two, over." Thorpe replied as he watched Hewson work.

"We've found what might be an underground cavern. Requesting permission to investigate, over."

"Granted." Thorpe said. "Try and avoid a contact if possible, Black One out."

"That's it!" Hewson said aloud.

"What have you found?" Thorpe asked walking over to where Hewson was seated.

"It's still here." Hewson exclaimed, then realised that in its current format the data probably wasn't very easy for the layman to interpret.

"Hang on give me a second." Hewson said and then converted the mass of numbers into a simple graph.

"This spike shows when the singularity was first active twenty one days ago. And then here, power consumption reduces for a period of eight days and this is when Pathfinder was inactive, though still hooked into the mains. Then on the eighth day we have another spike. And then here six days ago, power consumption falls to almost nothing, and this is when I believe Pathfinder was moved."

"But we still don't know where?" Jackson said.

"Ah, but we do." Hewson said, now in full flow. "We know that the Sanctuary was attacked four days ago and if we check the time index you can see there was another spike."

"But if the machine wasn't here, then where was it?" Thorpe asked.

"The first thing that struck me as odd was the fact there are two power consumption logs. One that dates back three years and another that starts only six months ago. After a bit of digging, I came across some specifications for a bunker complex also dated six months ago. The specs also detail a proposal to move the colonies fusion reactor inside the mountain." Hewson then brought up the schematic, showing all of the mains power cables throughout the compound and also those inside the mountain bunker complex.

"The only place in that bunker that has anywhere near enough power outlets and is big enough to house Pathfinder is here." Hewson said and pointed to a large room on the schematic labelled 'Assembly Hall'.

"Why the hell didn't we know about this place?" Thorpe asked sternly.

"Davies can't have informed the council or the records office that they'd gone ahead and built it?" Hewson replied.

"Does that schematic tell us where the fusion reactor is located?"

"I could be mistaken, but the mains power cables all seem to be leading back to this spot."

Hewson then touched the screen on a room that was simply labelled 'Utility'.

*****

Now clear from obstruction, Petterson and Giles grabbed hold of the cast iron grill and lifted it until it was horizontal. Dietrich then grabbed the thickest tree branch he could find and jammed it under the grill. Tentatively the two loosened their grip to see if the branch would hold the weight.

Satisfied that he wasn't about to be decapitated, Petterson edged forward and stared down into the mouth of the cavern, which was almost pitch-black. Taking his night vision goggles from a water tight pouch, Petterson placed the lightweight apparatus over his head and flipped up one of the eye pieces, so as to retain as much of his natural night vision as possible.

"Green Two. This is Black Two. Be advised, we are investigating the cavern below. Keep a trigger on the entrance, over."

"Roger that Black Two." Riley replied instantly.

Once Dietrich and Giles had activated their own NVGs, all three men cautiously entered the cavern. The entrance was severely inclined, and as they soon found out, treacherously slippery, so much so they could only hold onto their weapons with one hand, as they steadied themselves with the other.

At the bottom of the slope Petterson saw the opening to a chamber. The ceiling was less than two metres high, but there was still plenty of room to manoeuvre inside. Treading carefully, he entered the water that lined the chamber floor. Fortunately it was only knee high and as he moved on, he saw that it was draining away into another tunnel.

"OK we check to see what's at the bottom and then head back." Petterson announced, all too aware that any significant rainfall could very well end up drowning them.

The entrance to the second tunnel looked equally steep at first, though after ten metres, the incline levelled out considerably and it was then that all three men became aware of a slight luminescence. As they continued downward, the luminescence steadily increased and what greeted them at the bottom of the slope was truly unexpected.

Chapter 13: Losses

After looking at the blueprints again, Thorpe could see no easy way of infiltrating the mine. If the enemy were up there waiting for them, to attempt a frontal assault would be suicide. Getting in would be the key, at least then they would have a chance of taking control of the situation. But how to get in?

"Let's set up a base of operations in the Chapel and wait for Petterson's team to re-join us." Thorpe said as he and the others exited the science lab through the loading bay doors. "Then we'll work out how we're going to storm that bunker."

The weather front which had been on the horizon a short while before was now overhead. A solid bank of iron grey cloud blotted out the sun completely, and to confirm the change in weather, a stiff breeze came in off the back of the mountain, animating the surrounding canopy, and making it sound like a living entity.

Looking up at the sky, Thorpe felt a spot of rain on his cheek. He knew that this kind of weather was an entirely normal event in the tropics, nevertheless, as he looked down the deserted street, he felt on edge.

"Stay sharp people." Thorpe commanded.

Above them the sky opened and they were hit by a fierce deluge. Very quickly pockets of standing water formed and as the rain increased in intensity, visibility was reduced to less than a hundred metres. The whole area was then lit up by a massive flash of sheet lightning, momentarily giving the compound an aspect that was both monochromatic and vividly rich. With the storm now directly above them, the clap of thunder that followed was ear splitting and echoed around the valley with menacing authority.

As the team continued past the halls of residence, more lightning filled the sky.

Out of the corner of his eye, Thorpe saw something for a fraction of a second silhouetted in a first floor window, but by the time he'd realised what it was he'd seen, it was already too late. His cries of warning and the blast of the machine gun were both completely drowned out by the next thunderclap.

With no time to react, ten of the team were cut down immediately and just as the others managed to scatter, another machine gun opened up on the opposite side of the street from a ground floor window.

Thorpe hadn't registered the second threat, as his attention was still on those in the centre of the street. Without thought of his own safety, Hewson ran forwards and threw Thorpe out of the line of fire.

From above, Ramirez and Riley had seen everything, in particular the muzzle flash from the second machine gun. Lowering his sights at the weapon, Ramirez couldn't see anyone behind it, so aimed for the weapon itself. A fraction of a second later, the .70 calibre round passed straight through its target, and split the machine gun into two ragged pieces.

"Nobody move!" Thorpe bellowed to those still stranded in the middle of the street. He then turned to Jackson. "Sergeant, there's a remote firing station in the first floor window. Get up there and take that fucking thing out now!"

Jackson got up and was behind the building in seconds. Shattering one of the windows with the butt of her rifle, she clambered inside and sprinted up the staircase.

Back out in the street, Private Ramsay was just starting to regain consciousness. He'd been shot in both legs and had fainted, which had actually saved his life. To begin with Ramsay couldn't feel his injuries, but as he started to become fully conscious, the pain increased exponentially, making his legs feel like they were on fire.

"Stay still!" Thorpe cried again, spotting the movement from Ramsay.

Still disoriented, Ramsay didn't seem to comprehend Thorpe's words. Instead he rolled over and tried to assess the damage to his legs.

Detecting Ramsay's movement, the 30mm cannon swung round in his direction.

Inside the halls of residence, Jackson had reached the first floor landing and entered the sleeping quarters on the run. Her eyes searched for the spot where the firing station would be, but all she saw was a row of lockers in front of a small recess. Dropping to one knee, she emptied her entire clip at the centre of the recess. Passing straight through the lockers, several of the rounds smashed into the firing station and caused it to discharge harmlessly into the air. Crossing the room, Jackson threw the lockers out of her way and stepped into the recess. She then removed the weapon's firing pin, disabling it completely.

Back out on the street, Hewson and Thorpe ran over to help Ramsay.

"Black Two, this is Black One, over." Thorpe said, waiting nervously for a reply which he didn't receive. "We've been attacked. If you can't talk, acknowledge this transmission with two bursts of static."

The radio however remained silent.

*****

As Petterson, Giles and Dietrich reached the bottom of the slope, they saw a vast open space that took their breath away. They could now see that the source of the luminescence was actually a two metre wide fissure in the ceiling of the cavern, through which came a shaft of daylight which shone across the surface of an underground reservoir. The reservoir was at least a hundred metres in width and twice that distance in breadth, and God only knew how deep. Around the edge of the water, stalagmites jutted out of the ground, and overhead stalactites threatened with mock intent. Only the centre of the reservoir was lit by the sun, which left the rest of the cavern in a perpetual twilight that didn't suit the naked eye or the team's NVGs, which were starting to register light flares.

Petterson removed his NVGs, as did Giles, though just before Dietrich followed their example, his registered a heat source twenty metres away from behind a large boulder. Silently, Dietrich made Petterson and Giles aware of the possible threat. Poised and ready for action, they cleared the far side of the boulder to discover a woman lying on her back with her eyes closed. By the look of her, she was probably twenty five and clearly in poor health.

Petterson moved in to check her vitals, but before he could assess the woman's condition, Giles felt a serrated blade press up against his throat.

"Take your hands off her, NOW!" The man with the knife shouted from behind Giles, his voice strained and uneven.

Petterson swung round and had his weapon trained on the man's head in an instant.

Even with their attention on Giles, Petterson and Dietrich still noticed the other two men lurking in the shadows, also brandishing knives.

"We're from the Sanctuary. We're here to help you."

"Yeah? Help us like those other God damned maniacs up there?"

"Look I don't know exactly what's happened here, but like I said, we're here to help you. What's your name?" Petterson said softly, lowering his weapon.

"Doug Chambers."

"What happened to your friend here Doug?" Petterson asked.

"Stephanie is diabetic. We've got insulin, but no needles." Chambers said desperately, before removing the blade from Giles' throat and pushing him forwards.

In the background, the two men in the shadows also lowered their weapons and walked forward to join Chambers.

"We have three fully equipped field medics top side." Petterson said calmly. We'll get Stephanie some help. OK?"

*****

The number of wounded made it simply impossible for the team to move as a unit, so whilst the most seriously injured were triaged and stabilised, the others were stretchered down the hill to the Chapel.

Inside the Chapel, Hewson took instruction from the medics and helped to treat those laid out on the stone pews. It was an overwhelming experience, as the interior was alive with agonising screams and deathly silences. Over half of the team had fallen victim to the devastating cannon fire, and without access to the Cleopatra's surgical bay, Hewson was sure that most of the wounds would prove fatal. Each man had carried an IV kit and two bags of plasma, but their supply was being rapidly depleted.

As Hewson looked down at Ramsay's broken body, he held field dressings against the gaping wounds on his legs. The bleeding had lessened now, but he suspected that was due to how much blood Ramsay had already lost. Between bouts of unconsciousness, he looked up at Hewson with a brave face and apologised 'for the position he'd put them all in'. All Hewson could do was reassure him and keep him as calm as possible.

With Ramsay unconscious again, Hewson left him with one of the medics and approached Thorpe who was standing by the Chapel door. He was looking back up the street at those who were still lying prostrate. The colour had drained from his face and Hewson couldn't remember a time when he'd looked so desperate.

"Did you want to talk about it?" Hewson asked, unsure of what else to say.

"Not just now Rob." Thorpe replied softly. He then walked outside and tried to contact the Dauntless.

*****

Hendrix and Powell had set the Dauntless down fifty kilometres North of the compound in an area of low lying grass land which was surrounded on all sides by rain forest.

Unless they heard differently, they had another twelve hours to kill before heading off to the RV, so they each took turns to keep watch while the other rested.

Hendrix had seen the electrical storm a short time ago and hoped that the team hadn't been too badly hit, though reasoned that no news was probably good news.

Allowing himself to relax slightly, he put in one of his earphones and hit random on his MP7 player. As he listened to the soothing sounds of his latest compilation of acid rock, he reached down to his flask and poured himself a steaming sweet cup of coffee.

Powell then came awake with a jolt and rubbed the back of his neck. "You never really get comfortable in one of these things do you?" He said.

"Here, you look like you could use some of this." Hendrix replied, passing Powell the coffee he'd just poured.

"Any whisky in it?"

"Sadly not!" Hendrix replied, pouring himself another.

Before either man could sample their beverage, the Dauntless' proximity alarm was set off.

"What's on the scope?" Hendrix said, throwing his cup down on the floor.

"There's an unknown energy signature three hundred metres off the stern." Powell replied.

"I'm warming up the weapons." Hendrix stated, flicking a switch on the centre console, which brought the ships engines and weapon systems online.

As a safety feature and one that Hendrix had long disagreed with, the mark three shuttle craft couldn't fire any of its missiles whilst on the ground, however they did have another very formidable defence. Located within the primary hull on each quarter, was an Auto-Gun that could be used to repel ground attacks or destroy incoming missiles. As long as the ships' sensors were functioning normally, then the targets would be identified, tracked and if required, destroyed.

"The energy signature has gone." Powell said. "But there's definitely some movement and whatever it is, it's coming our way."

"Human or wildlife?" Hendrix asked.

"Wait one." Powel said, as the computer classified the targets. "They're human, but I'm not reading any phase emitters, so it's not any of our team. Do we fire?"

In response to Powell's question, automatic weapons fire rained down on the hull.

"Whoever the hell that is out there, they're not friendly!" Hendrix said. "Auto-Guns armed."

It took only a fraction of a second for the aft cannons to lock on to the targets approaching from the South, and fire a sixty round burst. Shortly thereafter, the enemy weapons fire ceased.

"I'm not reading any other movement." Powell said.

"Well I'm not taking any chances." Hendrix replied, increasing power to the engines. "Belt up, we're lifting off."

Just as Hendrix was about to pull back on the collective, something large struck the top of the hull. Whatever it was remained behind the ship for a moment and then moved directly in front of the view screen, though due to its size, neither pilot could see all of the assailant from the confines of the cockpit.

"What the shit is that?" Powell asked, catching a glimpse of what looked like a metallic leg.

Hendrix disregarded the question and simply tried to lift off again, this time managing to get a metre off the ground before encountering resistance. Outside the ship, the towering metal aggressor grabbed hold of one of the aft Auto-Guns and with a vice like grip, began punching the hull with its free arm.

All Hendrix could do was increase power and hope that something would give before they were destroyed. As each strike landed, another of the Dauntless' master alarms was set off. In a last ditch effort, Hendrix shook the controls from side to side and took the engines to half power. Finally the bracket that held the Auto-Gun in place sheared completely and the Dauntless tore free, ascending rapidly.

Below the creature tracked the ship's flight path and lifted one of its mighty arms into the sky. An almost unbroken chain of vividly blue plasma bolted past the Dauntless. Hendrix knew they were in trouble and banked sharply to avoid another volley, but a few stray rounds ripped into the rear quarter of the ship, causing a massive electrical short.

"I think we've got a problem!" Hendrix said and then the Dauntless' controls become almost non-responsive.

Chapter 14: Recovery

After the third attempt of trying to raise the Dauntless, Thorpe decided that she must be in a radio blind spot. He was just about to sign off when Petterson came on over the net.

"Black One. This is Black Two, over."

"Go ahead Black Two, over." Thorpe said. The reception was poor, so he covered his left ear to block out as much of the ambient noise as possible.

"We've found four colonists." Petterson said, standing in the entrance to the cavern. "Though one of them is diabetic and she's going into a coma. We've got insulin but no hypodermics. We can't risk moving her, so we need someone to come down to us, over."

"Understood." Thorpe replied. "Be advised we've been ambushed and have men down. We're holing up in the Chapel. I'll get someone down to you as soon as I can. Have someone wait at the entrance to the cavern. Black One out."

Looking around the Chapel, Thorpe took stock of the situation. Obviously he couldn't let any of his medics go to the woman's aid. And as the only non-medical trained person in the room, Hewson was the obvious choice. Thorpe watched as Corporal Gates loosened a tourniquet around Private Corethers leg. His face remained impassive as he examined the wound, though when Thorpe saw his eyes they told him everything he needed to know.

"How is it?" Thorpe asked, already knowing the answer.

Gates reapplied the tourniquet and stepped away from Corethers.

"Most of the wounded have arterial bleeding." Gates said wiping his brow with the collar of his DPMs. "I've managed to tie off what I can, but if they're going to survive, they need to be back on board the Cleopatra now."

"As soon as I can reach the Dauntless, I'll be calling her back for an emergency evac." Thorpe said and then went on to tell Gates about the four colonists that Petterson had found.

After Thorpe had finished, Gates produced a couple of spare hypodermic needles from his med kit and passed them across.

*****

Hewson had stayed with Ramsay. He'd done what he could to make him comfortable, but he knew he was there more as a moral support than anything else.

"Rob. Petterson's found four colonists underground and one of them is in a bad way." Thorpe said. "I need you to go and take these hypodermics down to them. Petterson will be sending someone to meet you at the end of the storm drain on the South side of the compound."

Thorpe pointed towards the drain and provided Hewson with a visual way point.

Slightly apprehensively, Hewson took the needles and looked out through the open Chapel doors.

"Keep your wits about you and you'll do fine." Thorpe said assertively to Hewson.

There was nothing to be said, so Hewson just nodded and quickly exited the Chapel.

He couldn't remember a time in his life when he'd run as fast as he did then. Darting from building to building, Hewson used whatever cover he could, and tried to soak up as much information from his surroundings as possible. At just over the half way point, he became aware of a droning noise approaching from the East. As he looked up, he could just make out the outline of a ship on the horizon, which eventually he recognised as the Dauntless. She was listing badly and had a huge plume of black smoke trailing from behind her. Not knowing what else to do, Hewson slowed his pace and opened a channel to Thorpe.

"Black One, this is Oracle, over." Hewson rasped, struggling for breath.

"This is Black One, go ahead Oracle, over."

"I can see the Dauntless coming in from the East. She's been badly damaged and looks like she's going down, over."

Thorpe cursed loudly over the net before replying. "Understood. Carry on with your objective. Black One out."

Hewson did his best to ignore the smouldering hulk and continued towards the storm drain.

*****

Wasting no time, Thorpe told Jackson, Baynes and Doyle to follow him outside. Realistically, Thorpe knew there was very little they could do to assist Hendrix and Powell, and he was also acutely aware that if the Dauntless splashed down too hard, there was a high probability that the munitions on board would explode.

Now almost on top of them, Thorpe looked up at the stricken ship and could see flames blossoming. Then quite unexpectedly, the Dauntless pitched backwards and seemed to float in mid-air. Very slowly, the nose of the craft started to level out and then in one of the most amazing displays of piloting Thorpe had ever seen, Hendrix brought the Dauntless in for an almost perfect landing, albeit without any landing struts in place.

Carrying their MP5SD's and belt kits, Hendrix and Powell opened the cockpit's emergency exit and jumped out into the hands of Thorpe and Jackson. They then turned and sprinted away as fast as they could.

The Dauntless was now completely ablaze, and with her destruction imminent, a panel drew back on top of the primary hull, out of which shot the ship's flight recorder. Then a second later, the ship exploded, showering the compound with debris.

Although clear of the explosion, Thorpe and the others fell to the ground as the compression wave hit them.

After a few seconds Hendrix turned to the others. "We were attacked, by what we presumed were the colonists. Though when we tried to lift off, something else had a go at us and whatever it was, it was big and fired some kind of plasma weapon at us."

"We were attacked as well. We've got a lot of dead and wounded back there." Thorpe said, gesturing towards the Chapel.

"Black One. This is Green One, over." Ramirez said. "Oracle has been received and we're moving down to assist you, over."

"Understood Green One. See you on the ground, Black One out." Thorpe replied.

Leaving the wreckage of the Dauntless, they all started to jog back to the Chapel, though before they'd made it even fifty metres, a blinding white flash lit up the area directly in front of it.

Involuntarily, everyone shielded their eyes and by the time the light had diminished the soft green tendrils of a singularity were forming.

Out of its centre appeared a heavily armed force.

Though it was difficult for Thorpe and the others to see clearly from their vantage point, some of the approaching enemy didn't look entirely human. Their limbs looked elongated and out of proportion with the rest of their bodies.

Three of the creatures ran back into the Chapel, while the rest attended to Thorpe and his small band of resistance.

"Hit the deck and fire at will!" Thorpe bellowed.

High velocity rounds thudded into the ground all around Thorpe and the others. As they returned fire, scoring hits proved to be no trouble at all, but due to the range and the rapidly moving targets, head shots were more luck than judgement.

Inside the Chapel it was pure carnage. The enemy fired indiscriminately, with no intention of taking anyone alive. Ramsay was hit almost immediately and thrown to the ground. Agonisingly he pulled himself behind one of the stone pews and as he looked around him he could see he was the only one still alive. With additional wounds to his chest and stomach, he knew this was the end for him. Bravely accepting his fate, Ramsay reached down to the fragmentation grenades on his belt and pulled the pin on all three. Then with his penultimate breath, he forced himself up onto his knees and let out a shrill whistle. As the enemy looked over at him, he simply smiled at them.

Outside, behind the line of advancing enemy, flames erupted out of the windows and doors of the Chapel as the grenades exploded. The attackers however took no heed and continued impervious.

"Fall back to the storm drain!" Thorpe shouted, firing another burst, while in the background the Chapel's roof caved in.

Jackson, Baynes and Doyle withdrew with Thorpe bringing up the rear. As they retreated, they each took a turn to defend, always moving in the direction of the drain.

Laying down in a small defile, Doyle levelled his sights and managed to shoot dead another two of the enemy before taking a round to his forearm, though with adrenaline flowing, he continued to fire one handed.

Relieving Doyle, Thorpe positioned himself behind a rock and picked off another three of the creatures, though they were now gaining on them.

Jackson was the first to enter the storm drain and the instant she dropped out of sight, she started preparing a claymore mine. Doyle, Hendrix and Powell moved to join her, though before Doyle could enter the drain, he caught a three round burst to the chest.

Ordering the others to fall back, Thorpe continued to lay down fire. Jackson however ignored him and set the claymore's laser trip wire to encompass the width of the drain.

With the enemy barely a hundred metres away, Thorpe turned to run, but as he did so, a bullet grazed the side of his head, causing him to lurch awkwardly backwards.

"I'm fine." Thorpe said as Jackson went to his aid. "Get out of here now."

Wiping blood from his eye, Thorpe unclipped a grenade. With a five second fuse and the enemy only sixty metres away, Thorpe pulled out the pin and held onto the grenade for two seconds before throwing it up and over the level of the drain. He then ran as fast as he could.

The grenade exploded ten metres in front of its target, showering the front rank with red hot shrapnel. Though slowed temporarily, none of the attackers were actually incapacitated. Thorpe had made it perhaps thirty metres into the storm drain before the bullets started to fly again. Most of the enemy continued their pursuit above the drain, though five of them made the fatal error of following their quarry directly.

Behind them, the explosion of the claymore echoed around the compound, which only made Thorpe run faster still.

Petterson, Ramirez and Riley crouched down at the tunnel entrance and laid down covering fire as their comrades sprinted toward them. Hendrix was the first to make it into the tunnel entrance, with the others only a short distance behind.

Even with half of the enemy force dead, that still left ten, who were now clambering down the steep bank towards the tunnel entrance.

As Petterson had watched the enemies advance, he'd thought it unlikely that they'd be able to repel the attack, so had prepared a shaped charge around the entrance to the tunnel. With the others in relative safety at the bottom of the slope, Petterson plunged a detonator into the plastic explosive before scrambling down after them. He knew if he hadn't calculated the amount of explosive correctly, he was about to bring down the entire cavern on top of them, so with a silent prayer, he thumbed off the remote detonator's safety catch and blew the charge.

Chapter 15: Underground

The explosion brought down several tonnes of rock around the tunnel entrance and sent out a fierce shockwave that knocked everyone off their feet. Hewson hit his head and was rendered unconscious, though luckily for him, Thorpe spotted him face down in the water and pulled him to safety.

As Hewson regained his senses, he struggled badly to control his claustrophobia, though once Thorpe had guided him down the tunnel and he'd seen the vast cavern and sunlit pool, it wasn't long before the scientist in him re-emerged and couldn't help but be fascinated.

*****

Two hours had passed since they'd been driven down into the cavern.

A thorough search of their surroundings confirmed there was no other way to the surface, but at least for the time being, they were safe. So far Thorpe hadn't pressed the colonists for information, which Hewson suspected was because he was allowing them and everyone else time to settle after the attack.

Hewson couldn't imagine how the colonists must have felt. In the last seven days they'd witnessed first-hand the atrocities committed by their friends and colleagues. He knew how acutely helpless and lost he'd felt when he'd learned of the attack on the Sanctuary, but his own experiences paled in comparison to the horrors that the colonists had been subjected to. He hadn't spoken to Thorpe about what had happened back at the Chapel and in truth he didn't really want to know, but it was clear that Thorpe was having a hard time dealing with it.

"How are you doing Jim?" Hewson asked weakly.

"Hanging in there." Thorpe replied, managing a smile. "How are the colonists doing?"

"Well, Petterson's divided out the rations and they've had their first meal in three days." Hewson replied. "Given the circumstances, I think they're doing OK."

"And the girl?" Thorpe asked, his eyes momentarily resting on Chambers before focusing on Stephanie.

"Giles says her vitals are more or less stable now and she's responding well to the insulin." Hewson said.

Noticing they were the subject of conversation, Chambers left Stephanie with his two colleagues, and walked over to Hewson and Thorpe, who were looking up at the cross section of blue sky at the top of the cavern.

"Have you got a ship on the surface?" Chambers asked.

"Not anymore." Thorpe answered flatly. "We've got a ship in orbit, but we haven't been able to make contact yet."

"You've got a pretty decent length of wire there." Chambers said, pointing over to Jackson who'd laid out their equipment on a nearby rock. "Is there any chance you could run a line up through that aperture and we could climb out of here?"

"I was thinking about that myself." Thorpe replied. "We've got enough line, but no grappling hook, or any other way of anchoring it in place. It'd be too risky."

Chambers looked like he was about to say something, but remained silent.

"How much wire do you have?" Hewson asked

"About sixty metres." Thorpe replied.

"Can I see it?" Hewson asked, with an idea forming.

Thorpe picked up the length of wire and passed it across, not quite sure what Hewson had in mind.

"That aperture is only about twenty metres above us." Hewson stated. "So that means we'd have about forty metres of slack?"

"Go on, I'm listening." Thorpe said.

"If we can get all of that slack topside, then the weight of the wire should hold it in place and then maybe we can use it as an aerial and raise comms with the Cleopatra?" Hewson said.

Thorpe walked over to their supplies and nestled in between a box of 9mm shells and some fragmentation grenades, was a small black case. Picking the case up, he brought it back to where Hewson and Chambers were standing and placed it on the ground. Inside were three rocket-propelled grenades. Taking one out, Thorpe immediately got to work unscrewing the tip, and then very carefully, he removed the explosive warhead. He then cut two small notches in the thin metal casing with his knife. Tying a small noose at the end of the wire, Thorpe placed it over the notches he'd cut in the casing and then screwed the tip back on.

"You guys secure the end of this wire." Thorpe said as he picked up the launcher and loaded the RPG. "I'm going to thread the eye of the needle."

Once Hewson had pinned the end of the wire under a boulder, Thorpe took dead aim at the centre of the aperture and fired.

The RPG shot off into the air and sailed straight through the narrow opening. A second later the wire went taught and then as the propellant burnt out, it dropped lifelessly onto the side of the mountain, whilst inside the cavern it remained suspended in mid-air.

"Your turn." Thorpe said, to Hewson.

Hewson took a pair of pliers from his belt kit and started to unravel the end of the wire, so that a few of the individual strands hung loose. Since the radio was a sealed waterproof unit, Hewson needed to undo four screws before he could separate the casing. Examining the circuitry for a moment he located the internal aerial receiver and then stripped away some of its plastic shroud. Crimping a couple of strands of wire with his pliers, Hewson very gently placed them underneath the receiver, before replacing the casing to keep them firmly in place.

"All yours." Hewson said passing the radio across to Thorpe.

"Cleopatra this is Black One. Come in, over." Thorpe repeated the hail a number of times and then finally Sorrenstam's voice came on over the net very faintly.

"We're reading you Black One. We've just received the flight recorder from the Dauntless." Sorrenstam said, breaking up intermittently. "What's your situation down there, over?"

"We were attacked and have sustained heavy casualties. Right now we're trapped underground with four of the colonists, over."

"Understood. I'm triangulating your position now, over." Sorrenstam replied.

"I think it's unlikely we're going to be able to get out of here without assistance, over."

"What do you suggest, over?"

"I think the area is too hot right now to risk sending down the other dropship. Give me an hour to re-assess our situation and I'll contact you again, over."

"Agreed." Sorrenstam replied. "Good luck. Sorrenstam out."

*****

Whilst his science officer worked to download the data from the Dauntless' flight recorder, Sorrenstam paced around the Bridge like a caged animal. Having been up for the last thirty six hours straight, his eyes burned and he was beyond tired, but with those on the ground safe for the time being, he relented and gave the Bridge to Perez. Sorrenstam had drunk nothing but coffee all day, so now all he craved was a mug of hot chocolate and an hour's sleep. With the time approaching 1400hrs, the majority of the crew were either on duty or back in their bunks, so it came as no surprise to Sorrenstam to see only a handful of individuals in the Mess Hall. Williams and Chavez were sitting in the far right had corner of the room engaged in a game of cards, and nearer to the entrance, Clarke and O'Neil were debating which of the current crop of techno metal bands had the most cutting edge sound.

"What's your opinion sir?" O'Neil asked.

"I think they're all as equally bad as one another." Sorrenstam laughed. "Give me Pink Floyd or David Bowie any day."

"Ah, the classics. You've got to respect that." Clarke replied as Sorrenstam walked past.

Grabbing a mug from the rack, Sorrenstam pressed the relevant button on the vending machine and bounced restlessly on the balls of his feet as he waited for the machine to serve him. Being in close proximity to the planet's atmosphere had led to numerous electrical fluctuations in the ship's systems, so when the lights in the Mess Hall had started to flicker, Sorrenstam hadn't been overly concerned. He'd just made a mental note to speak to Perez about it later, though as he picked up his cup and turned to leave the Mess Hall, it became ablaze with light.

Just a few metres from Sorrenstam, a singularity formed.

"ALL OF YOU GET OUT OF HERE NOW!" Sorrenstam shouted, dropping his cup and reaching for his pistol, which had not left his side since the team had departed.

The five individuals that came through the singularity bore no resemblance at all to their former selves. They were considerably larger and far heavier muscled, and in the soft green glow of the singularity, their skin pigmentation appeared almost grey. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then all Sorrenstam saw there now was pure evil, no residue of humanity present.

Williams and Chavez were both up and out of their chairs instantly and sprinted past the intruders. Chavez though, the slightly slower of the two, wasn't quick enough and was driven to the ground by a hail of gunfire. With nothing else to be done, Williams continued running and vaulted over the metre high barrier at the far end of the Mess Hall.

With Williams now out of Sorrenstam's line of fire, he fired quickly one handed, scoring two head shots before the attackers turned on him.

Seizing their opportunity, Clarke and O'Neil ducked behind the barrier and made their way over to Williams, then all three bolted along the passageway toward the cargo bay and closed the pressure door behind them.

With rounds ripping up the tables and chairs in front of him, Sorrenstam backed away in the direction of the Bridge and slammed shut the only other pressure door to the room. The three remaining intruders fired their weapons into the door to little effect, while on the other side, Sorrenstam hammered on the intercom and opened a channel to the Bridge.

"Perez, we've got intruders. They're sealed in the Mess Hall. Move the ship away from the planet, now!"

Standing to one side of the pressure door, Sorrenstam took a quick look though the plate glass. The abominations that stood on the other side could only be described as demons. Their facial features were distorted and ravaged. Now, not only did Sorrenstam see evil in their eyes, but perhaps more disturbingly he also saw intelligence and a purpose there.

Back in the centre of the room the singularity was beginning to destabilise, its green tendrils receding back into its centre. The portal then reduced in size to no more than a few centimetres and in another blaze of light, it was gone.

Looking back at the enemy, it was then Sorrenstam noticed the grenades hanging from around their waists. Reacting instantly, he lashed out at the intercom again.

"Perez. Blow the emergency hatch in the Mess Hall, they've got explosives!"

What happened next truly made Sorrenstam's blood run cold. The demons reacted as though they'd heard the conversation, or perhaps even Sorrenstam's thoughts. With their eyes locked on Sorrenstam's, they dropped their weapons and in perfect synchronisation, each pulled the pin of a grenade.

In that same instant, the observation window which doubled as the emergency hatch started to slide backwards.

The explosive decompression shook the Cleopatra and sent the intruders and anything else not fixed to the deck plating hurtling toward the void.

With only a few seconds until detonation, one of the creatures caught hold of the exterior hatch and remained suspended there momentarily, but with so much debris already in the air, it wasn't long before it was struck in the face by a barrage of broken crockery.

The action of the creature losing its grip and the grenades exploding seemed to happen simultaneously, and for the second time in less than thirty seconds the Cleopatra was shaken violently from bow to stern.

With several cuts on his head, Sorrenstam picked himself up off the deck plating and hit the intercom.

"Damage Report!"

"There's a minor breach of the primary hull in your section." Perez replied. "Otherwise I think we're OK. Have you got any casualties down there?"

Sorrenstam looked back into the Mess Hall, though couldn't see any sign of Chavez's body. Clenching his fists, he punched the pressure door with some force.

"Perez, I want the Mystic prepped and ready for launch within the hour!"

*****

Thorpe and Petterson had searched the cavern again and gone over their options, but the only one that seemed remotely viable was to try and dig their way out, which would take hours, if not days.

"We could try and blast our way out of here?" Ramirez offered.

"Too risky." Thorpe added. "We've got plenty of food for the time being and enough insulin for Stephanie to last another week. No I say our best chance is to dig our way out."

Still laid out flat, Stephanie had woken from her coma with a splitting headache. As she tried to sit up, Giles was quick to steady her and offer her some water.

"You're going to feel light headed for a few hours." Giles said. "But otherwise there shouldn't be any lasting ill effects."

"Thank you." Stephanie said as Chambers, Foster and Fraser gathered around her.

Hewson then took the opportunity to distribute phase emitters and provide a brief explanation of their function.

"We also had a similar theory." Stephanie said after Hewson had finished his tutorial. "But those monsters were everywhere and we couldn't risk going back to any of the labs."

As Stephanie mentioned the labs, Hewson could see she was reliving her past terrors in high definition.

"How did it all begin?" Hewson asked softly, bringing Stephanie out of her trance.

"Two days after we first opened the singularity, a member of our team was murdered." Stephanie said. "When we reviewed the security logs, we saw one our senior members of staff, Malcolm Sykes beating his friend Jonathan Braymer to death."

Hewson then saw his own high definition replay.

"Sykes opened the singularity for over five minutes. Eventually the reactor overloaded and shutdown automatically. But in that time Sykes was able to sabotage our high gain transceiver and delete most of our research material." Stephanie paused then and rubbed the side of her temples before continuing. "He never came out of the lab, so we're assuming he went through the singularity before it destabilised. After we managed to get back inside, we tried to find out what coordinates he'd used, but he'd deleted those as well."

"How many of your colleagues were affected?" Hewson asked as Thorpe joined them.

"I'm not sure, but I would guess most of them." Stephanie replied quickly. "The day after the murder, that's when it all began. The four of us were in the tavern and one of my oldest friends, Tobin James joined us for a drink."

Stephanie swallowed deeply before continuing.

"One minute he was laughing and joking and then he was completely unrecognisable. It was like a switch had been flicked inside his mind. Tobin walked up to Kevin Marshall and smashed his glass across his face. He then attacked anyone close to him. We all tried to stop him, but when we couldn't, we called in the soldiers. By the time they'd reached us though, Tobin had killed Kevin and two others. After that the soldiers turned on each other as well, and when the shooting started the four of us took off into the woods and then down here."

"Any ideas why you weren't affected?" Thorpe asked his face impassive.

"How the hell should we know!" Chambers said belligerently. "Why don't you let her rest for God's sake?"

"There has to be a reason, so I need you all to think long and hard as to what that might be." Thorpe said menacingly, directing his comment solely at Chambers, who he continued to stare at until Chambers looked away.

Something occurred to Hewson then, who interjected.

"Where were you all when Sykes opened the singularity and killed Braymer?

"We were exploring the caves." Stephanie said.

"Ok that makes sense. The rock might have provided a natural barrier to the phenomenon." Hewson offered.

"OK, now back to current events." Thorpe said, addressing everyone now. "It looks like our only option is to try and clear the rubble by hand and get out the same way we came in."

"And what if they're out there waiting for us?" Chambers asked.

Thorpe regarded Chambers very coldly indeed. "Then we'll have to deal with that as and when it happens, but if you've got any better ideas as to how we get out of here, then I'm all ears!"

"There is no other way out." Chambers barked, though his eyes gave something away.

"Well, not out no." Stephanie added.

"That's not going to help us!" Chambers shot back, raising his voice further still.

"What's not going to help us?" Thorpe asked Stephanie, doing his best to ignore Chambers.

"There's another cavern through that wall." Stephanie said, pointing behind her. "You can get to it through an underwater passageway."

"Where does it lead?" Thorpe asked.

"Further inside the mountain." Stephanie replied. "And through an old part of the mine that leads to our waste storage facility."

"Waste storage?" Hewson said. "By waste I presume you mean nuclear?"

"That's right. But once you're through the mine you can either get out through the West entrance or you can go through the waste tunnels and climb up through the ventilation system. From there you've got access to the entire bunker."

"OK then." Thorpe said. "I need to make something absolutely clear to everyone. If we have the chance to destroy Pathfinder or the fusion reactor, then that's our primary objective. Everything else comes second place, and that includes us." Thorpe then turned to the colonists before continuing. "You may not be aware, but the Sanctuary has already been attacked by these 'animals' and I will not allow it to happen again."

The four scientists were shocked by the news and no one, not even Chambers spoke out of turn.

"Now the four of you can stay here if you wish and we'll come back for you, if we're successful. But I strongly urge you to come with us. With us you've got a fighting chance."

Again after Thorpe had finished speaking, silence reigned.

"Cleopatra. This is Black One. Come in over." Thorpe said into the radio.

"Reading you Black One. Go ahead, over." Came the reply from Sorrenstam.

"We have another way out of the cavern, but it's going to take us deeper into the mountain and right past the enemies' front door. The plan is to try and destroy the fusion reactor and hopefully Pathfinder along with it." Thorpe said looking down at his watch which indicated it was 1503hrs. "If all goes well, we'll be at the RV coordinates by 2000hrs. If not, then you're going to need to bomb this place back to the stone-age. Make sure you concentrate your fire on the mine entrance at the base of the mountain, over."

"A little melodramatic I think, but understood." Sorrenstam replied. "The Mystic is prepped and ready for launch. We'll see you at 2000hrs. Good luck. Sorrenstam out."

*****

The next hour was spent dividing up equipment and checking that everything was in good working order. After much deliberation Thorpe decided to issue each of the colonists with a pistol. It wasn't betrayal that concerned him. He was more worried about their current state of mind versus them possessing a weapon. However once he'd provided a tutorial, Thorpe could see that none of them were strangers to firearms, most notably evident in Chambers, who sat through Thorpe's instruction like a petulant child.

Wanting a moment to be alone with his thoughts, Thorpe walked along the bank of the reservoir and looked down into its murky depths. He knew the element of surprise would give them an edge, but would it be enough? Playing the percentages, he'd personally prepared a shaped charge above the entrance to the underwater tunnel, just in case they needed to double back. He'd considered going ahead alone and telling the others to fall back to the RV. He wasn't afraid to die, but he knew he couldn't prevail alone, none of them could. And besides, given the depth of the mine, he wasn't entirely sure that a tactical strike from the Cleopatra would destroy Pathfinder.

*****

Hewson meanwhile had revisited the construction blueprints for the bunker on his laptop. With a little help from Stephanie and Chambers, it wasn't long before they'd confirmed the exact location of the reactor, and agreed that Pathfinder would most likely be set up in the Assembly Hall.

With a moment alone, Hewson looked up at the small sliver of daylight and wondered if this was the last time he'd see the sun. He hadn't looked for a sign, but one came to him then in the form of a small bird. Landing on the sun baked ledge high above, it looked down at him with piercing yellow eyes. Reminding him of the blackbirds back at the Sanctuary, Hewson's mind focussed on thoughts of Kate and he vowed to himself there and then that he'd make it back alive for her.

*****

After listening carefully to Stephanie's instruction, Petterson donned his night vision goggles and entered the reservoir. Immediately he felt the warmth being leeched from his body, so not wasting any time, he took a couple of deep breaths and then disappeared under the water.

Chapter 16: Labyrinth

As they waited for Petterson to return, everyone sat at the water's edge in silence, and after five long minutes were relieved when he bobbed back to the surface.

"I couldn't see anyone in the next cavern." Petterson said exhaling deeply before hauling himself out of the water. "But there's no light in there at all."

"Chambers and I installed a generator in that cavern two weeks ago, so light won't be an issue until we get further into the mine." Stephanie said. "And since we're the only ones who know the way through the tunnels, we shouldn't have any unwanted visitors either."

"Excellent." Thorpe said. "Then let's get going!"

*****

It took only a few moments for everyone to safely negotiate the underwater tunnel.

Taking Stephanie's advice, Thorpe had agreed it was an acceptable risk to use the LED strip lighting, though to ensure they were still alone, Petterson got out of the water first and crept to the top of the bank to have another look around. For several minutes his eyes flickered across the dark expanse before finally signalling Chambers to join him.

Silently the two made their way along the waterside until they found the generator. Fumbling slightly with the keypad, Chambers tapped in the start sequence whilst Petterson kept watch. The generator then whirred into life and a long string of LEDs became visible along either side of the cavern wall.

With their senses on full alert, Stephanie and Chambers led the way with Petterson and Jackson accompanying them up front.

"Talk me through our route again." Petterson whispered to Stephanie.

Stephanie pulled her hair away from her face and tied it back before replying.

"The tunnels extend for about seven hundred metres before linking up with the oldest part of the mine. From there it's another three hundred metres to the waste facility."

"A kilometre huh?"

"Yeah. It's a lot further than you'd think."

The progress was slow and in some places the tunnels narrowed to barely a metre wide, which made moving in groups increasingly difficult. To navigate the maze of tunnels, Petterson had to constantly stop and ask Stephanie for directions.

With less space now, Hewson struggled to keep clam. The tunnel leading to the first cavern had been bad enough, but these were far tighter and with people in front and behind him, he felt trapped and helpless.

"How much further is it?" Hewson asked Chambers, with an edge of hysteria to his voice.

"About another four hundred metres?" Chambers replied.

Hewson thanked Chambers and tried hard not to hyperventilate.

"Rob, talk to me." Thorpe said. "Kate's birthday is coming up soon, yeah? What are you going to get her?"

"Can't say I've given it too much thought." Hewson answered honestly.

"Got anything better to do?" Thorpe replied.

"I might paint something for her. She's always going on about how drab her office is." Hewson stammered.

"Jesus. You paint as well do you? Oil or watercolour?"

*****

The passageways now began to widen, though having passed the last of the LEDs quite some time ago, they now walked in almost complete darkness.

After another ten minutes of whispered instruction from Stephanie and a dozen more twists and turns, Petterson and Jackson came to a man-made doorway, above which was a sign that read 'Ore Processing'. With the door already open, they took up defensive positions either side and made entry.

"Clear." Petterson whispered over the net a few seconds later.

"There's an emergency generator on the other side of that door." Stephanie said, pointing Thorpe in the right direction. With Stephanie's help, the two of them got the generator up and running, which powered another string of LEDs.

Inside there was a wide variety of tools and machinery, all with a thick layer of sediment on them, a legacy from the evacuation.

Trying to find something of use, Hewson examined a pair of bulk cutters and soon wished he hadn't, as fine particles of dust hit the back of his throat and forced him to cough into the sleeve of his DPMs.

"I think we may have found a way out ahead." Petterson said, jogging back from the far end of the cavern with Jackson.

"Yes." Stephanie added. "There's a loading bay door ahead."

As they continued, the level of light diminished significantly between the sparse number of LEDs, though as they neared the loading bay door, they saw a soft glow from around the door frame, confirming there was mains lighting behind it.

In the twilight Petterson found the door handle and tested it for resistance. Discovering that the door was locked, he reached down to one of the pouches on his belt and produced a set of lock picks. After a few minutes of quiet persuasion, he tried the door again, and this time it rolled back smoothly.

"Is this part of the bunker easily accessible?" Thorpe asked.

"No." Stephanie replied. "Only Professor Davies has access to the mine and nothing is tied into the main hub. I'm one of only three people to have even been down here in the last two years. The control bunker and Assembly Hall are two hundred metres above us. So unless the waste tunnels or the West exit have been compromised, we shouldn't run in to anyone."

With weapons ready, Petterson and Jackson moved out into the corridor which ran straight and level and had obviously been made wide enough to allow anti-grav loaders to transport ore to the surface. Continuing for a hundred metres, at the far end of the corridor, they saw daylight flooding in through the plexiglas window of the West exit.

Stephanie had said they'd see a red access door halfway along the corridor, so with nothing between them and the exit, Petterson and Jackson broke into a run and stopped once they'd reached the access door.

As the rest of the group neared the West exit, their eyes lingered on the vivid splash of daylight. With freedom in sight, the impulse to leave the gloom of the mountain was difficult to resist, and finding the motivation to go deeper underground was almost impossible.

Hewson felt sure that once they passed through that innocuous red door, there'd be no turning back. And if they did succeed in their mission, then getting out of the mountain might also prove to be impossible. Hewson wasn't a devout man and had always faced religion with an open mind, though now for the first time since he'd lost his Father, he found himself praying.

*****

As Giles opened the access door, Petterson, Jackson and Dietrich stood ready to face whatever lay in wait behind it, but only a well-lit stair well greeted them.

Looking down through the slatted staircase, Hewson had a good view of the six levels below them. There was an undisturbed layer of dust covering the slats, which so far at least supported Stephanie's theory that the mine was a 'no go' area, though as he followed Dietrich down the stairwell, his right hand instinctively reached for his pistol.

At the bottom of the stairwell Petterson and Jackson faced another door. Discovering that it too was locked, Petterson radioed Stephanie and asked her to confirm that the door definitely wasn't wired up to an alarm or linked in to the computer network in any way. Once Stephanie had confirmed it was OK to proceed, Petterson got to work with his lock picks again. The mechanism was similar to the loading bay door, so was quickly defeated.

Stretching out before them was another long straight corridor, though this time there was a pressure door at the end of it. The door looked almost exactly the same as the one outside the science lab, so Hewson knew they were in trouble.

"I'm presuming that someone in the control bunker will know the instant that door is compromised?" Hewson asked the colonists.

"Yeah that's right." Chambers replied.

"Well is there any other way around it?" Hewson said, his temper rising.

"Other than through that door, it's solid rock in every direction, so what now genius?"

Hewson ignored the remark and started removing the maintenance panel from beneath the terminal so he could examine the circuitry.

"What do you think Rob?" Thorpe asked. "Can you get us through?"

"I'm going to try and connect to the main hub and disable the door alerts and the security access logs. Hopefully no one will be any the wiser until we're long gone." Hewson replied.

"I don't suppose you can access the reactor from here and save us all a whole lot of trouble?"

"Unfortunately not." Hewson replied as he pulled his head out of the cavity and unpacked his laptop. "I think we'll have to drain the reactor coolant manually. Only a guess, but I think that'll give us about fifteen minutes before a core meltdown."

"That's not going to give us much time." Thorpe replied as Hewson continued to work.

"Damn it. My computer should be able to remotely access the server here. The Wi-Fi router must be damaged, so if we want through, I'm going to need to hard wire into this door."

Taking an old ethernet cable from out of his Bergen, Hewson plugged one end into his laptop, then plunged his head back into the small space. The high speed data cable was partially hidden at the back of the cavity, buried amidst several high voltage power relays. With his arm outstretched, Hewson lent across and inserted the other end of the cable into an access node. Then very carefully, withdrew and returned to his laptop. Gratifyingly his computer connected to the hub almost instantly. Quickly he navigated to the module that controlled the door alerts and the security logs and promptly disabled them. Then with some trepidation, he stood up and keyed in the override code.

"If this doesn't work, what's the plan?" Hewson asked before completing the sequence.

"We leave as quickly as possible." Thorpe replied.

Hitting the return key, Hewson and the others stood well back from the door as it opened towards them, but there was only another empty corridor and yet another cavern.

"So far so good. If I can access the CCTV cameras, we should be able to get a look at what's going on upstairs." Hewson said as he worked.

A few seconds later and they were watching live security feeds. As they alternated between multiple sites, the only signs of life were inside the reactor room, where there were three individuals, all heavily armed.

"We're going to need to take those guys out. Can you loop an earlier recording of the reactor room?" Thorpe asked.

"Should be able to. Give me a moment." Hewson replied.

"Stephanie. I'm guessing the reactor room has an airlock right?" Thorpe asked.

"Yeah." Stephanie replied instantly.

"Then getting in without alerting them won't be easy."

"There's a crawl space beneath the floor plating that leads to an emergency access hatch. But we'll have to disable the security protocols, otherwise they'll know." Stephanie said.

"On it." Hewson replied and quickly brought up the master control module again. "Done."

"If the reactor goes up whilst we're in the compound would we survive the blast? Thorpe asked.

"Hard to say for certain." Hewson replied. "But the mountain has a high concentration of iron ore, so it should contain some of the blast."

"Then I'd say we have ourselves a plan. Let's go!"

*****

The cavern at the end of the corridor was vast. It was at least fifty metres wide, with the ceiling some twenty metres above them. Thanks to mains power, the level of lighting in the Waste Tunnels was far more substantial, though there was no cover. After five hundred metres the rock swept away gracefully to the right, leaving the end of the tunnel completely out of sight.

"Jesus. You guys built this place?" Jackson exclaimed.

Chambers laughed before replying. "A couple of thousand years ago, there used to be an underground river running through here. Now there's just hundreds of metres of rock in every direction, so for our purposes it made the perfect storage facility. All we did was fill in both ends, add pressure doors and fit the lights and ventilation."

"And you're sure this radioactive shit is safe?" Jackson asked.

"As long as you don't take a bath in it, you'll be fine!" Chambers said dismissively.

"So where do we go from here?" Thorpe asked.

"Half way down the tunnel we'll reach the main ventilation ducts. From there we climb." Stephanie replied.

*****

Spread out across the breadth of the tunnel, the team proceeded cautiously. Looking up at the cavern wall, Hewson noticed colour changes in the stone, indicating where the water table had once been. As he continued to stare at the rock, his eyes caught sight of one of the smaller ventilation ducts. It was essentially a half metre wide pipe that disappeared up through the rock.

"Exactly how far do we have to climb?" Hewson asked Stephanie, trying hard to rid himself of that familiar sinking feeling as he looked at the pipe.

"The main bunker is about three hundred metres above us."

"And you've done this before right?"

"Yeah, we ran a drill about a year ago."

"And how long did that take?"

In spite of their situation, Stephanie laughed at the remark.

"Let's just say I hope you work out!"

*****

As they moved past the dog leg of the tunnel they saw in the distance a large number of waste barrels and to the right of them, a steel staircase that led to a catwalk, above which were the main ventilation ducts.

Seeing the visual waypoints materialise as Stephanie had described, gave everyone hope, but the moment lasted for only a few steps before the lights flickered and faded to black.

"Could they know we're here?" Petterson asked as the light returned momentarily.

"No." Hewson answered. "I think it's another power drain. They must be using Pathfinder again."

"Then let's move." Thorpe said

Doing their best to keep together, the team ran towards the catwalk and the ventilation ducts, though had any of them realised what was waiting for them up ahead, they would have run in the opposite direction.

Standing motionless under the catwalk was a lone soldier and strapped to his chest was ten kilograms of explosives. As the team closed within twenty metres of the waste barrels, the bomber made his move.

Fortunately his movement coincided with another flicker of illumination, and gave Dietrich chance to act. Firing off the hip, he let off two bursts which caught the bomber in the stomach and legs, knocking him off his feet. As the demon hit the ground, the remote detonator he'd been holding flew out of his hands and slid across the floor.

"HE'S WIRED!" Dietrich shouted, sprinting towards the fallen man with his weapon trained.

But it was already too late. Before Dietrich could close the gap, the bomber pulled the pin on a fragmentation grenade and rolled it towards the barrels.

"FIRE IN THE HOLE!" Dietrich bellowed, hurling himself painfully onto the steel staircase to avoid the blast.

The explosion ripped open several of the waste barrels which proceeded to discharge their contents across the cavern floor. Being only a few metres from the explosion, the bomber suffered horrendous injuries that should have been fatal, yet somehow he still functioned.

Giving the bomber no chance to recover, Thorpe drew his pistol and shot him between the eyes.

Badly shaken, Dietrich picked himself up and looked over at Jackson, smiling as he gave her the thumbs up. His victory however was short lived. Without warning Dietrich was hoisted high above the ground and thrown twenty metres through the air, before smashing into the cavern wall.

Running to his aid, Jackson looked down at Dietrich's broken body, and knew instantly he was dead.

The team may not have been able to see what had attacked Dietrich, but they themselves had been seen, and now Dietrich's invisible executioner circled the group, fuelling its body with deep and powerful breaths. Sensing the fear in the air, it let out a blood curdling roar and then moved off into the shadows.

"What the HELL was that?" Chambers stammered.

"All of you, move back against the wall NOW!" Thorpe shouted.

Doing as Thorpe had instructed, the team moved, leaving the soldiers to form a defensive perimeter in front of them.

Looking down at its prey from the cavern wall, the creature hovered like a guillotine ready to fall. Silently it edged ever closer, until it was barely a hairs breadth from the colonists, then with one of its mighty hands, it reached down and snapped Fraser's neck with such force, that his head was practically torn from his body. Jumping down to the ground, it barrelled past Giles, raking his abdomen with one of its scythe like claws, before moving off again into the shadows. Disembowelled, Giles keeled over, already fading fast.

Thumbing off the safety catch on his pistol, Hewson looked around frantically for the creature, but with the lights continuing to flicker, all he saw was blurry after images of their aggressor. Acting on impulse, Hewson reached out to a nearby fire extinguisher, pulled it off the wall and slid it across the ground into the centre of the cavern. Holding his pistol with both hands, he took dead aim and squeezed the trigger. The first bullet missed the canister and kicked up the ground slightly wide of its mark. Compensating, he aimed off the last round and fired repeatedly until his fourth round struck the canister squarely, causing it to explode and leave the surrounding area covered in white foam.

The beast, which had been standing only a few metres away, now stood partially visible. Flexing its muscles, it took only one step towards the group before they opened fire.

Each round that ripped into its flesh helped to solidify the beast's physical form, though in defiance to the amount of punishment it was taking, it still battled forwards until finally surrounded by a pool of its own blood, it let out one final roar before crashing to the ground.

Barely able to believe his eyes, Hewson looked down at something that should only have existed in the darkest of nightmares. The slain creature was at least two metres tall and probably more than three hundred kilos in weight. It had cloven feet similar to that of an ox, and cruelly sharp claws. Its head however was anything but bovine. Within its grotesquely enlarged skull were vividly red eyes and serrated yellow teeth. It looked as though it had been bred purely to maim and kill.

Moving closer, Hewson saw something on one of the creature's arms that gave away its lineage.

"This was human!" Hewson stammered pointing at a piece of blood spattered material showing a rank insignia.

"We need to go now!" Stephanie shouted at Thorpe and Hewson. "There are sensors staggered every thirty metres. If they detect any rise in radiation at all, this place will be sealed off automatically!"

With Stephanie leading the way, they all ran up the steel staircase and along the catwalk, at which point Stephanie got to work turning a valve that released the access hatch at the bottom of the central ventilation duct.

"Everyone up the ladder, NOW!" Stephanie shouted.

A minute later, everyone was inside the duct. Stephanie then started to climb the ladder herself, though in the heat of the moment, she hadn't felt her phase emitter strike the top rail of the catwalk, and as she climbed frantically, it slipped from her waist. The instant she was inside, the ventilation ducts were sealed automatically, and those inside were once again plunged into complete darkness.

"With the ventilation system offline, the air in here is going to get a pretty thin, but we've got at least twenty minutes before we need to start worrying." Stephanie said to those above her.

With Jackson leading, the team slowly moved up the ladder, and a little over five minutes later, she became aware of a soft red glow above her.

"I've got a red LED a few metres above me here?" Jackson said over the net, adjusting her NVGs to get a better look.

Stephanie quickly explained the situation to Thorpe who relayed the information back to Jackson.

"Don't worry. It's nothing. To the left of the light you'll see a small valve. You need to turn it anti- clockwise to release the top hatch." Thorpe said.

Jackson gripped the valve and turned it as slowly and quietly as she could. Surprisingly the valve turned easily and as she reached the end of the thread she heard the locking mechanism retract, making a slight click. Holding her weapon one handed, Jackson opened the hatch and climbed the last few rungs of the ladder.

The duct led into a utility room that had no windows and only one door. Around the room were various items of clothing, some in baskets and others piled on the floor next to an industrial size washing machine. Once Jackson had given the all clear, the others climbed the ladder, leaving her to run across the room and lock the door.

Next to the hatch, strewn across a table top, were several sets of jungle DPMs. On the opposite side of the room was a row of open lockers, revealing other items of clothing and personal effects.

"Put on those DPMs" Thorpe said, taking in the colonist's brightly coloured clothing. "When we get topside, you'll need to be able to blend in."

Whilst the colonists changed their attire, Jackson and Petterson stayed close to the door, poised and ready to act.

"Which way is the reactor from here?" Thorpe asked Stephanie.

"Out in the corridor you hang a right and then it's the first corridor on your left. The reactor room is at the end of that corridor."

"OK. We move together." Thorpe said. "Petterson, you and Jackson take point. Hendrix, Powell you watch our flank. The rest of you with me."

*****

The corridor was far larger than Hewson would have envisioned. Its rocky ceiling was at least five metres above the ground, and similar to the one that led to the West exit, it was easily three metres wide. Hanging in the air, he caught the distinctive smell of paint, presumably from the walls which looked recently decorated, but there was something else there too, something being masked. As they proceeded, what began as an almost undetectable odour quickly increased in intensity, until there was no mistaking it. Though not as potent as in the infirmary, the stench of death was all around them.

Keeping their sights trained at head height, Petterson and Jackson moved quickly and rounded the first corner. As Stephanie had indicated, halfway down, there was another corridor to the left, and above them a sign that read 'Reactor Control'.

With Jackson keeping low, she stayed put on the near side of the junction, allowing Petterson to run across to the far side as a distraction. But as she rounded the corner herself, she saw only an empty space. Moving up to the airlock, they radioed the rest of the group who quickly joined them, the seven inch florescent biohazard warning however did nothing to improve anybody's anxiety levels.

Leaning down, directly behind the airlock, Stephanie inserted her fingers into what looked like a drain cover. She then removed a small section of the floor plating which revealed the maintenance crawl space. Lowering themselves down, Petterson and Jackson crawled away under the airlock, and as soon as they were in position below the emergency hatch, they reached down to their belts and each unclipped a stun grenade.

"Three second fuse." Petterson told Jackson, as he adjusted the timer on his own grenade.

Petterson counted down from three with his left hand and then released the hatch. Simultaneously the two threw their stun grenades in separate directions and braced themselves for the explosion. From above, they felt the familiar concussive blast and then a second later they were up and through the hatch.

From outside the reactor room the others heard the muffled explosion and prayed it hadn't been loud enough to alert anyone else in the bunker.

The explosion had blown out half of the lights, so most of the reactor room was now engulfed by smoke and shadow. From experience, Petterson and Jackson knew that the smoke would lift quickly, so keeping low they each took a side of the room.

In front of her, Jackson saw movement and then through the smoke came a twisted and deformed shell of a human being. Still blinded by the stun grenade, the creature lurched towards her instinctively. Jackson put three rounds through its head and moved on, while on the other side of the room, other silenced rounds found their target. Continuing clockwise, Jackson saw something off to her left, but as she turned to face the possible threat, the third creature came at her from behind, though this one had recovered completely from the stun grenade and had her directly in its sights.

Everything happened in slow motion after that. Jackson looked back over her shoulder and knew she wasn't going to be able to react in time, but she still started to turn and raise her weapon. Petterson then ran up behind the creature and fired off the hip, one of his rounds catching its cranium to devastating effect. Chillingly, in the split second before the creature's demise, Jackson could have sworn she'd seen it smile at her.

"Clear." Petterson said over the net.

*****

After Hewson had activated the airlock, everyone joined Petterson and Jackson in the reactor room. With very little lighting, the pools of blood around the bodies looked almost black to Hewson, though for some reason, their deaths didn't resonate with him as powerfully as the others he'd witnessed. The thought that he might actually have become de-sensitised to the violence disturbed him, but it was a small price to pay when compared to what had already occurred.

For the most part the smoke had cleared and they could now see the reactor mounted in the centre of the room. Facing them was an unassuming and almost innocent looking device, with very few lights or controls on display, not really any larger than a few square metres.

"OK what's the quickest and easiest way to make this thing blow?" Petterson asked, though before Hewson could answer Stephanie chimed in.

"You need to take out the primary and secondary coolant tanks." She said as a matter of fact. "Once they're drained we'll have about five minutes before the reactor goes supercritical."

"Five minutes?" Hewson asked.

"That's what our simulations have told us." Stephanie replied.

"OK. We plant a couple of sixty minute charges and then we leave." Thorpe said. "Stephanie, work with Petterson and show him where to put the explosives."

Stephanie nodded, but as she walked away she was slightly off balance and held the side of her head.

*****

Over the course of the next ten minutes, Petterson prepared the charges whilst Stephanie went to work removing the protective casing from the reactor. With the interior of the reactor exposed, Stephanie identified the coolant reservoirs for Petterson, who then expertly placed the explosives at their base.

"Charges are set, but we can remote detonate if need be." Petterson said, showing Thorpe the radio detonator hanging from his belt.

How do we get out of here?" Thorpe asked Stephanie as she replaced the reactor casing.

"Well since we can't go back the way we came, we go left and then straight on and right. But that's going to take us straight past the control room and the Assembly Hall."

"No choice. But I promise, if we're in a tight spot, we'll blow the reactor and take as many of those bastards with us as possible!" Thorpe said "Now let's get on with it!"

Chapter 17: Beginning of the end

After checking his pistol the way Thorpe had shown him, Hewson applied the safety and placed it back in his holster.

The soldiers meanwhile were being far more thorough. Even though their equipment had been meticulously checked on board the Cleopatra, they all ran through the same drill of inspecting every magazine, making sure they were all fully loaded and that there was a decent amount of resistance from the springs. Only then did they reload each weapon, pull back the moving parts and apply the safety.

With so many unknowns, Thorpe had decided that it was just too risky to send the colonists into the wolf's lair without first having completed some form of reconnaissance, so once more Petterson and Jackson went on alone.

*****

After the darkness of the reactor chamber, it took a few seconds for Petterson to adjust to the mains lighting and brightly painted corridors. It looked as though this part of the facility was still in the process of being renovated, as a few metres ahead the drywall gave way to the heavy grey tones of solid rock. Being surrounded by the very heart of the mountain, made him feel like he'd been miniaturised and was now wading through the circulatory system of a sleeping giant.

Nearing the next corner, Petterson became aware of a dull glow, which presumably was coming from the control room. Hugging the right side of the corridor he and Jackson moved up slowly and stayed below the level of the glass. Past the window they could see the entrance to the Assembly Hall and to the left of that the corridor that led to the main exit.

Petterson grabbed a fibre optic viewer from his belt and placed the end of the device just barely above the level of the window frame. All the while Jackson kept her weapon aimed directly ahead, keeping an eye on the door to the Assembly Hall and adjoining corridor.

Petterson rested his eyes as the viewer came online and when he reopened them, the control room came into sharp focus. It wasn't much larger than 3m x 5m and had only one door. Facing the back wall of the room, there was a high backed office chair, beyond which, was a desk and a row of monitors that were hooked into the security grid. Though courtesy of Hewson's expertise, there was still no sign of foul play in the reactor room.

On one side of the desk was a cold water dispenser, and standing opposite, was a pale green filing cabinet. The only movement in the room came from a yellow ribbon that had been tied to the front of a desktop fan. Petterson was just about to retract the viewer when the fan pivoted and caught the long dark hair of whoever was sitting in the chair. Packing away the viewer, Petterson signalled Jackson, telling her he'd caught sight of a possible enemy.

Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, Petterson drew his pistol and reached for his suppressor. With his eyes never leaving the corridor, he screwed the suppressor in place with his left hand and as quietly as he could, started to edge forward. Such was his faith in Jackson, Petterson focussed his attention solely on the control room door. Nothing else mattered. Holding the pistol grip lightly with both hands, he sprung up onto the balls of his feet and moved into the room.

The woman sitting at the workstation didn't hear Petterson enter, or if she had, she didn't react. Even from the other side of the room, he could see that her facial tissue had been warped and twisted in the same manner as those they'd encountered in the reactor room. With a clear advantage, for a moment he thought about a silent take down with his knife, but there was no way to be absolutely sure their condition wasn't communicable, so he decided against it. With steady hands Petterson levelled the silenced 9mm at the back of the woman's head and double tapped. Making very little noise, the bullets exited her skull and hit the drywall beside the workstation.

Leaving the blood soaked room, Petterson and Jackson moved along the corridor and took up position on either side of the open Assembly Hall door.

Petterson put the end of the fibre optic viewer around the edge of door frame, though when he looked down at the display, he thought the device had malfunctioned, as the screen was completely white. Realising that it must have been due to a strong ambient light source, Petterson adjusted the viewer and saw three floodlights approximately seventy metres from their position. Wanting to see past the lights, Petterson focussed on a central spot and adjusted the viewer to compensate. A few metres beyond the wall of light he saw a building that resembled the senior staff's quarters, though this one had a reinforced steel frame and a large plexiglas window. It was obvious that the floodlights had been set up to obscure the building and anything else around or beyond it, so it was a good bet that Pathfinder was inside.

Panning round to the left of the building, Petterson focussed on a large area of open ground and with the light filter set to maximum, he systematically scanned the void. At first he saw nothing, but as he increased magnification, there standing motionless in the shadows, was at least thirty of the enemy, lying in wait to attack anyone or anything that dared approach. Having seen enough, Petterson opened a channel to the others and told them to meet him and Jackson back at the control room.

*****

For the next few minutes Petterson and Jackson stared unrelentingly at the Assembly Hall door and the exit corridor, neither of them wanting to blink or breathe. Finally they heard two bursts of static over the net, announcing the team's arrival.

Thorpe was first to poke his head around the Control Room door, quickly followed by the rest of the group with Hendrix bringing up the rear. Being the last one inside, Hendrix very carefully closed the door and drew the blinds.

The first thing everyone noticed was the blood on the wall and then all eyes came to rest on the body, still propped up in the chair. Using a sweater that had been left on top of the filing cabinet, Petterson covered the body as best he could, before addressing the group.

"It looks like Pathfinder is inside the Assembly Hall, but it's also inside a reinforced structure and there's probably thirty hostiles guarding it!" Petterson's last few words were directed at Thorpe, who listened as he went on to tell him about the floodlights.

Looking down at his watch, Thorpe considered their options for a few seconds before replying.

"We have plenty of time until the charges blow, so I say we sting them now and then get the hell out of here. Riley, get an RPG ready. I want you to slam one into the side of that structure. As soon as you're done get the colonists and Professor Hewson out through the main entrance. We'll watch your flank and follow up with some grenades. From there we blow the charges and make a fighting retreat back to the RV. Questions?"

There was only silence from the team, but their eyes held a complete understanding. They all knew what part they had to play. At this point trying to save the colonists was simply not an option. All that was left was to strike back at whatever was responsible for their enslavement.

*****

To allow Riley to see past the floodlights, Petterson recalibrated his NVGs, whilst Riley stood at the door, mentally preparing himself. Clasping his pistol in one hand, he pulled the door towards him and moved out into the corridor with the colonist a few metres behind him. Holstering his pistol, Riley unslung the RPG launcher and lifted it onto his shoulder.

Behind him, Stephanie was staggering quite badly now and needed to be steadied by Chambers, though strangely she seemed to recover after only a few steps.

Moving toward the Assembly Hall door, Riley prepared to fire. With no wind to worry about, he knew all he needed to do was aim high and allow for a slight drop. Concentrating solely on his target, Riley didn't hear Stephanie approach him from behind and before he could react, she took the knife hanging from his belt and plunged it deeply into his throat.

As a reflex action, Riley pulled the trigger, sending the RPG streaking into the cavern, well wide of its target.

The change in Stephanie had been so instant and complete, that no one had immediately reacted to her and in that fraction of a second she moved back to her colleagues and attacked them without mercy. With a reverse grip she expertly ran the edge of the blade across Chambers' throat, and in the same smooth motion, buried it inside Foster's chest. All three men fell to the ground clutching their wounds, trying in vain to apply pressure before bleeding out.

Standing closest to Stephanie, Petterson was first to react, his hand coming up very fast with the 9mm. As he shot Stephanie in the back of the head, Ramirez was already barrelling past him to get to Riley, but it was too late. All three men were dead.

"Jesu Christo!" Ramirez shouted. "What the fuck happened?!"

Without hesitation, Petterson ran to the Assembly Hall door and closed it. He then fired a three round burst into the door controls.

"COME ON! WE'RE LEAVING NOW!" Thorpe shouted, picking up Riley's MP5SD on the way past.

Running for their lives, they followed the entrance corridor and as it swept around to the right they saw the security access point off in the distance.

"Stephanie's phase emitter was missing." Hewson said to Thorpe as he gasped for breath. "It must have come off in the waste tunnels."

Practically running head long into the steel door, Hewson hammered in the override code, but the doors didn't move.

"They've been welded!" Thorpe said, as he looked across at the scorched metal seam running up between the doors. "Lieutenant. How much plastic explosive do we have left?"

"About half a kilo." Petterson replied.

"It wouldn't make a dent in that door." Thorpe said rhetorically. "Blow the charges now!"

Petterson and Thorpe locked eyes for a moment and then Petterson nodded and unclipped the detonator from his belt. Opening the trigger guard, he pressed the small red button, and then away in the distance, they all heard the muffled crump of explosives.

*****

Lying prone in front of the pressure door, the remaining seven members of the team prepared themselves for the inevitable confrontation.

"The safety's off and she's on semi-automatic." Thorpe said, thrusting Riley's MP5SD into Hewson's hands. "Just point and shoot!"

As they stared at the Assembly Hall door, the fear etched on everybody's face transitioned into pure terror as they heard a deep resounding thud rise up from behind them. They'd all seen the blueprints for the bunker, so knew that the main pressure doors were half a metre thick. But that only made the noise sound even more terrifying as it rang out again. With the ground itself now quaking, the team backed away and took refuge behind the steel support struts that lined the corridor. The sound was then replaced by silence.

"Keep back!" Thorpe commanded.

Even before the last syllable had left Thorpe's mouth, the doors exploded inwards, spirited along by a bolt of bright blue plasma, until they smashed into the curvature of the wall halfway down the corridor.

Taking a risk, Hewson knelt down and looked toward the exit. Staring at him through the shattered doorway was death incarnate. Even bent down, the cyborg demon was at least two metres high and fortunately for everyone present, much too large to pass through the ragged opening it had created. The creature had a human torso, reinforced with plate steel and similar to the cadavers in the morgue, it was fused with cybernetic implants. Horrifically, its head had no bottom jaw, or neck. Instead, its head was connected to its body by a thick metallic rod that acted as a rudimentary spine. And unlike the foot soldiers, the abomination's eyes were very much alive and danced in their sockets, baring nothing but malevolence. Hewson had only held the creature's gaze for a few seconds, before he had to look away, but it was as if his mind was being invaded and his sanity consumed.

Ramirez knew the devil when he saw it and responded immediately, firing off the hip with the Spitfire. The .70 calibre round caught the left centre of the creature's rib cage and drove it backwards, but only momentarily.

With its facial features contorting with rage, it returned fire and unleashed a sustained burst of plasma in Ramirez' direction, forcing him to retreat behind the steel strut. With nowhere to run, Ramirez watched as the strut disintegrated in front of him.

Taking the opportunity to intervene, Thorpe threw two grenades which exploded on impact and knocked the behemoth off its vertical base.

"BACK TO THE CONTROL ROOM!" Thorpe shouted.

Everyone turned to make a run for it, but before they'd taken a step, a singularity started to form fifty metres in front of them. All they could do was watch as the brilliant kaleidoscopic consumed the corridor. Then out of the light came six enemy soldiers.

"KILL THEM ALL!!" Thorpe screamed, charging at the enemy.

With all parties firing fully automatic, bullets ripped up the corridor in either direction.

Almost as soon as the firing began, Hewson felt a piercing pain in his left forearm. The bullet passed straight through the soft tissue, and with adrenaline pumping, he carried on firing.

Less than twenty metres from the singularity the firing intensified and both Powell and Ramirez took rounds to the chest, but before they fell, their superior marksmanship helped to decide the outcome of the contact.

Back at the entrance, the giant cyborg fired another burst of plasma. Narrowly missing Hewson, the bright blue bolts disappeared into the singularity and as it did so, the vortex seemed to fluctuate.

"It's destabilising. Come on, I may still be able to get us out of here." Hewson said.

With no other option, Hewson and the others ran into the singularity and a second later it disappeared.

Chapter 18: No Escape

In the fraction of a second that they were in transit, Hewson didn't experience any external stimulus. No light, no heat, no gravity, no nothing. Yet in his mind's eye he was sure he'd perceived something tangible beyond the boundaries of known reality, a place that connected everything, but then like waking from a dream, it all slipped away from him so quickly. Though of one thing, Hewson was certain. In that realm of null space he'd glimpsed, he'd not seen or felt an all-consuming evil, so whatever the origins of the demonic consciousness that had consumed Ashen 2, Pathfinder itself was not responsible, rather someone or something that was using the technology against them.

*****

As the singularity started to collapse, blinding white light flooded the structure within the Assembly Hall, dazzling the four creatures that were operating Pathfinder. And in that same instant, Thorpe and the others materialised.

With their weapons trained at head height, they quickly scanned the room and took full advantage, dispatching their foes with ease.

Wasting no time, Petterson ran over to the pressure door and engaged the locking mechanism, and it was at that point that everyone noticed the charred remains of several demons strewn across the floor. It looked as though they'd been struck down by the Cyborg's stray fire.

Looking away from the bodies, Hewson focussed on the control console and tried to recall the technical specifications.

"I think you enter target coordinates here." Hewson said rhetorically, as the others watched helplessly. "Field harmonics are already pre-programmed, so all we need now is power."

Hewson leapt across to the next work station and quickly found what he was looking for.

"I'm bringing the reactor up to full power. All of you, step away from the centre of the room."

The singularity generator started to emit a low pitch hum, which steadily increased in frequency and volume.

"We've got about fifty seconds until the singularity opens." Hewson shouted.

"How long until the reactor blows?" Thorpe asked Petterson, his hands cupped over his ears to be heard over the increasing decibels.

"If Stephanie was right, we've got a little over two minutes." Petterson replied.

As Thorpe and Petterson continued their discussion, Hewson looked over at the window, and out of the darkness came several ranks of grotesque physical forms.

The bodies of the Ashen 2 personnel were now so twisted and so deformed, the sight of them was beyond abhorrent. At the centre of the front rank, stood a demon that was at least a head taller than its comrades, though it wasn't the creature's size that scared Hewson. It was what it was holding. With cruel eyes, it continued to stare at Hewson, whilst casually it slid its thumb across the stock of an electric Gatling-Gun, flicking a switch that started the barrels rotating.

"GET DOWN!" Hewson bellowed.

As the Gatling-Gun erupted into life, the muzzle flare lit up the entire Assembly Hall. Hundreds of rounds smashed into the thick plexiglas, though inside the structure all that could be heard was Pathfinder as it reached its deafening crescendo.

Outside the demons had now disappeared from sight, completely obscured by a cloud of blue grey cordite. In the midst of the fire storm, Hewson raised his head and noticed that the window was still largely intact.

A few seconds later the gunfire ceased, and as the cordite started to clear, Hewson could see that some of the demons in the front rank had been killed by ricochet.

Having not had the desired outcome, the large demon roared with anger and ran towards the structure. Immediately it started striking the plexiglas with the Gatling-Gun, and with assistance from its comrades, it wasn't long before holes appeared in the already weakened glass.

"HOW LONG!" Thorpe shouted.

"TEN SECONDS!!" Hewson replied.

Sensing that the end was near, the demons attacked the window with a renewed ferocity, and almost immediately larger sections of it fell away. Tasting the kill, one of them jammed its hand through the opening and fired at the group, luckily missing wildly.

As the countdown hit three seconds, the cacophony fell away to a muted thrum. Blinding white light then exploded from the centre of the room, before giving way to soft green tones as a singularity formed.

With less than a minute before the destruction of the reactor, the team once more embraced the unknown.

*****

As everyone emerged from the singularity, they just kept running.

Leading the way, Petterson quickly surveyed the landscape, looking for a suitable spot from which to defend. Settling for a grassy hillock, some two hundred metres away, Petterson spurred the group on, though halfway up the sharp incline, Hendrix lost his footing and twisted his ankle.

Running to his aid, Hewson got Hendrix's arm over his shoulder and supported him the rest of the way up, while Thorpe nervously watched their flank.

With everyone at the top of the hill, they all got a bead on the singularity, praying that the reactor would explode before the enemy could follow them through.

"Well this sure as hell isn't the LZ?" Thorpe said, looking around at the surrounding grassland, trying to get his bearings. Then as he looked off to the East, he saw the mountain range on the horizon.

"You want to go back?!" Hewson asked.

"Better not." Thorpe said, unclipping the grenades from his belt, two of which he passed to Hewson.

"Here, all you need to do is slide back the catch. The timers are set for five seconds, which means you have three, if you catch my drift?"

"Thanks." Hewson replied, appreciating the humour as he looked down at his watch. "Only a couple of seconds before the reactor goes up!"

From the top of the hill, they continued to watch the singularity, which was now starting to destabilise.

Even with Hewson's warning, none of them had expected the explosion to register as loudly as it did, or for the violent ground tremor that followed. By the time they looked across at the mountain range, part of the South face had already collapsed and fallen in on itself. The mountain however only held their attention for a few seconds, as shortly after, the singularity swelled to three or four times its original size, until finally an explosion of white bathed the surrounding grasslands.

When the team were able to look back down at the bottom of the slope, unbelievably half of the structure from the Assembly Hall had materialised.

Hewson wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but suspected that Pathfinder had projected a temporal field around the structure, protecting it from the explosion. Looking through his weapon's scope, Hewson saw a number of bodies, all with a varying degree of injury. Some had limbs missing and others looked as though they had been cut cleanly in two. If he was right about the temporal field, then it looked like anything that had been caught outside of it, had simply been lost in transit or vaporised by the explosion.

For a moment, everyone relaxed thinking it was over. But then quite unexpectedly, demons exited the structure from all angles, some bursting through the partially smashed window and others through the opening where the South wall had been bisected. The instant the creatures were clear of the structure, they acquired their targets on the hillside and started firing, as if guided by a higher power.

Selecting three round burst, Thorpe opened fire and scored hits straight away, as did Jackson, Petterson.

Taking a deep breath, Hewson squeezed the trigger of his MP5SD and it coughed once. The round struck his mark in the side of the head, felling him instantly. He then slid his thumb across the selector switch and changed to three round burst, letting loose the rest of the clip. Though not as accurate as the others, Hewson still took down another two of the abominations before he needed to reload.

Now only eighty metres away, the enemy's ranks had thinned considerably, but there were still too many to defeat if they made it up the hill.

Hewson and Thorpe primed the first of their two grenades and threw them at the same time. Hewson's effort tumbled down the hill and exploded harmlessly a full twenty metres shy of his target. With a little more success, Thorpe's grenade exploded ten metres from the front rank, though caused only minor injuries.

"HOLD ON TO THE NEXT ONE FOR TWO SECONDS, THEN THROW IT!!" Thorpe shouted.

Under pressure, Hewson fumbled slightly with the safety catch though quickly recovered. This time both grenades nestled between the first and second ranks and exploded with devastating effect, knocking all of the attackers to the ground and killing three of them.

Those that remained were up on their feet quickly and resumed their suicide run. Having expended all of their ammunition, the enemy now moved from side to side, trying to make it as difficult as possible to stay in anyone's sights.

As the nightmarish vision edged closer, it seemed like a forgone conclusion to Hewson that bullets alone weren't going to get the job done. Though the thought of hand to hand combat scared him, he wasn't about to roll over and die.

With everyone selecting fully automatic, they did as much damage as they could before drawing down with their pistols, but before anyone had chance to reload, what remained of the enemy charged at them over the brow of the hill.

Instinctively, all of the soldiers reached for their knives, and holding them with a reverse grip, assumed a defensive stance.

"Reload that pistol and stay back." Thorpe told Hewson. "If any of these bastards get past us, you shoot them."

Doing as instructed, Hewson slammed in his last clip and stood his ground.

*****

Now face to face everyone could see the full extent of the injuries caused by the grenades, most of which should have been fatal.

Making the first move, Thorpe lunged aggressively at one of the enemy, his blade catching its throat. He then pivoted on his left foot and came up behind another of the demons, this time bringing his blade down in a stabbing motion on the back of its skull.

Using a similar technique, Petterson took down a mark of his own and then as he searched for another target he saw Hendrix struggling for balance on his injured ankle.

Seizing the opportunity, two demons came at Hendrix simultaneously, forcing him to the ground. Jumping in quickly, Petterson pulled one of the demons away from Hendrix, leaving him to wrestle with the other.

Reaching down to his left boot, Hendrix found the clasp of his ankle holster and pulled free an ancient derringer pistol. At point blank range, he dispatched his foe with a single bullet to the head.

Petterson meanwhile got his mark into a head lock and with a violent twist of his upper body, snapped the creature's neck. With his attention still on Hendrix's would be executioner, Petterson hadn't noticed a third demon approach him from behind.

Showing no mercy, the demon sank its knife deeply into Petterson's throat.

Jackson turned just in time to see Petterson's body drop to the ground, his arms already lifeless at his side.

Filled with rage and grief, Jackson squared up to the monstrous form.

She knew better than to rely on raw power alone, instead she kept her eyes locked on the beast's blade and waited for an opening.

With crude technique, the demon lunged at Jackson, bringing its knife in at the navel. Taking a half step backwards, Jackson made the beast miss wildly and over extend.

Trying again, it swung at her, though this time Jackson side stepped the attack and brought her elbow into the demon's face, driving it to the ground. As the demon tried to sit up, Jackson moved in and thrust her own blade through its left eye socket.

Spotting a potentially easy kill, another of the attackers ran at Hewson, baring its blackened teeth. Hewson pulled the trigger of his pistol smoothly and rhythmically, though the rounds simply impacted the demon's body armour, having no effect at all. With fear welling in his stomach, Hewson saw the flash of a blade.

Leaving him no time to think, the demon leapt at Hewson and tried to plunge the jagged metal into his chest.

At such close proximity, Hewson baulked at the sight of the demon's injuries. Three of the fingers on the left hand were missing and its jaw hung dislocated at a horrific angle. Perhaps worst of all, was the smell. It was like the malignancy in the creature's heart had caused it to decay from the inside out. With surprising speed, it knocked the pistol out of Hewson's hand, which landed several metres behind him.

Locking eyes with him, the demon slashed again with its knife, this time making light contact with Hewson's stomach.

Clutching his wound, Hewson back pedalled and then as he'd hoped the demon became over confident and charged at him. Waiting until the last moment, Hewson dropped to the ground and caught its legs in a scissor lock. With so much momentum, the demon landed heavily on its face and before it could recover, Hewson reached out for his pistol and shot it in the back of the head.

With only one of the demons still standing, Thorpe moved in and as he did, the demon slashed at his face. Grabbing its arm, Thorpe stepped forwards and inverted it. He then placed his heel behind the demons and as they collapsed to the floor, all of their combined weight came down on the demon's arm, breaking it in three places. With the demon incapacitated, Thorpe came in at the temple with his knife.

*****

With the immediate threat averted, everyone now looked down at Petterson's body.

Kneeling down beside him, Jackson whispered a quiet prayer for her lost friend, and as he stared into oblivion, she lightly brushed her fingertips across his eyes.

"Cleopatra. Come in. This is Black One, over." Thorpe said, sheltering the radio from the freshening wind.

"Reading you loud and clear Black One." Came the muted reply from Perez a moment later.

"We're clear of the compound. Requesting immediate evac. Come down on these coordinates, over."

"Understood." Perez replied. "Be advised, the Mystic is on route. ETA forty five minutes."

"Roger that. Black One, out." Thorpe replied, then closed comms.

"We've got almost an hour until evac." Thorpe said softly to Jackson. "You and Hendrix go down the hill and collect as much ammunition as you can. Then we'll find some cover and lay up."

Thorpe's last few words stayed with Hewson. He knew it was going to be difficult to find cover. They were ten kilometres from the jungle and even further away from the mountainside. As he looked around he could only see a few sparse patches of bracken, which though obvious, looked to be their only option.

A few minutes later, Jackson and Hendrix came back into view. Between them they carried four Armalite assault rifles and enough magazines for three apiece.

With their weapons reloaded, Jackson and Hendrix went back to Petterson's body and placed it inside his light weight sleeping bag. Then between the four of them, they picked it up and headed for the bracken.

*****

There was no denying that Ashen 2 was a paradise to behold. But after everything that had happened, to Hewson it would forever be tainted. He felt battered and broken and couldn't help contemplating if the planet was ever worthy of redemption.

As he continued with the group, a pair of small birds flew toward them, darting back and forth, barely clearing the ground. Thinking back to his experience in the cave, Hewson again felt like someone or something had sensed his fragile state of mind, and perhaps this graceful display was some small offering of solace. Choosing to take what he'd seen as a positive sign, Hewson gathered himself and watched as the birds lifted up in to the sky, riding on a warm plume of air.

Having reached the bracken, the group finally enjoyed something resembling good luck.

A few hundred metres further on, was an area of much taller grass which would make a far less obvious hiding place.

"OK, I've sent the Mystic our coordinates again, so I'd guess we've got about twenty minutes until the pickup." Thorpe said as they settled down in the grass. "For now we just keep our heads down and watch the world go by."

*****

Twenty minutes came and went.

With mental and physical reserves stretched well beyond breaking point, the team were quiet and contemplative.

The encounter on the hill had supercharged Hewson's body with adrenaline, but now as the chemical cocktail was starting to lose its potency, his arm and stomach burned. All he could do to hold on to what remained of his sanity, was keep telling himself that the cavalry was on the way and that the nightmare would soon be over. Looking out across the straw coloured plains, he listened as Thorpe tried repeatedly to hail the Cleopatra and the Mystic, but received only static in reply. Then way off in the distance, they heard something that sounded like thunder.

Since the sky was overcast and they had already faced one storm, no one was immediately concerned, though a few minutes later they heard the noise again and this time it sounded more like an explosion and from far closer.

Hewson scanned the horizon, but from his vantage point still couldn't see anything. Thirty seconds later there was another explosion, though this one was followed by a slow rhythmical thud. Through his glasses, Hewson watched in the direction of the noise and it wasn't long before his worst fears were realised.

Slowly and relentlessly, the giant cyborg paced its way up from the lower part of the valley, periodically stopping to fire its plasma cannons.

To Hewson it looked like it was systematically destroying any and all cover that might be concealing them.

"Could it have intercepted our transmission?" Hewson whispered to Thorpe.

"Unlikely. But if we stay here then we're as good as dead." Thorpe replied.

"That's not our only problem." Jackson said pointing away to the East, in the direction of the mountain.

Panning his field glasses across the horizon, Thorpe focussed on five enemy soldiers, approximately three hundred metres away and moving fast toward the cyborg.

"We've got to go now! We'll come back for Petterson, I promise." Thorpe said to the others, though his eyes lingered on Jackson as he said Petterson's name.

Crawling on their stomachs, they moved through the long grass as quickly as they could. Behind them the plasma cannons fired again, but no one stopped to see what the leviathan had targeted.

Then without warning, the Mystic roared overhead, barely ten metres off the ground.

*****

Sorrenstam had spotted the unholy monster quite some time ago. He'd had also received the communiqué, though had chosen not to reply, as he couldn't be sure that the enemy wouldn't be able to triangulate the team's position.

Picking up speed now, Sorrenstam banked sharply to the starboard and took the Mystic up almost vertically, trying to draw the cyborg away from the team. Working like a charm, a long line of plasma traced the Mystic's flight path.

Sorrenstam hadn't expected such a quick and accurate response, and to avoid destruction, he executed a series of evasive manoeuvres. Even then, the small craft was dealt a glancing blow, tearing away a small section of the primary hull.

With the giant's attention now firmly on the Mystic, Thorpe looked through his field glasses and saw that the foot soldiers were only two hundred metres away and running right at them. Unbelievably though, they were in one single rank, which made them ridiculously easy targets against the brooding skyline. After the first few shots were fired, only two of the demons were left standing and as they looked around for their attackers, they too were struck down.

Ramming a fresh clip into his Armalite, Hendrix looked up into the sky searching for the Mystic. Even from five hundred metres, he could see that the missile pods on the side of the ship were now open and in a fixed wing position.

"Sorrenstam's going on the offensive!" Hendrix shouted admiringly.

"Mystic. This is Black One, do you read, over? "Thorpe shouted. "We're three hundred metres South of your target. Watch your fire!"

"Understood Black One. Sorry I'm late, I ran into another sentry drone. I'll be right with you. Good shooting by the way. Mystic out."

Sorrenstam's line of descent was so acute, that from below it could easily have been mistaken as a suicide run. Blue fire lit up the sky all around him, but with deft touches, Sorrenstam evaded the deadly bombardment and established a target lock. Disengaging the safety catch on the flight yoke, Sorrenstam fired a full spread of air-to-ground missiles.

The cumbersome creature continued to fire and succeeded in destroying all but one of the missiles. The last one however scored a direct hit and caused extensive damage.

Rolling back down the hill, the cyborg crashed into what was left of the Assembly Hall structure, which partially collapsed under its weight.

Continuing his run, Sorrenstam switched to 30mm cannons and unloaded on the leviathan, pulling up only at the last possible second.

After the dust had settled, Hewson pulled out his field glasses and looked down at the wreckage.

"Both of its plasma cannons are destroyed." Hewson stated. "And it looks like the chassis is badly damaged as well."

"Then let's go and take a look." Thorpe replied.

With the Mystic in support, the team moved down the hill.

As they closed within twenty metres of the cyborg, Hewson could see that the explosion had buckled and snapped most of the servo linkage to the creature's limbs and the cannon fire had punched gaping holes through its torso, also removing a large section of the skull plating.

Despite the severity of the damage, the demon's eyes were still very much alive and wide with outrage.

Remembering Hewson's face from the bunker, the demon locked eyes with him, but this time Hewson didn't flinch, instead he stared back defiantly.

As he held the creature's gaze, Hewson could feel his mind being probed again, though the experience was different somehow. This time not all of the thoughts and feelings were his own. He felt a surge of fear and it was at that moment that the cyborg broke its link with him. Hewson smiled for a moment and then looked away from the creature's grotesque face, though as he did, he noticed something glistening there in the sun. Encased in one of the mangled prosthetic limbs, were the remains of a human forearm, and around the wrist was a piece of jewellery. Wanting a more thorough inspection, Hewson moved closer.

"Careful Rob!" Thorpe said, but Hewson continued regardless and pulled free what appeared to be a bracelet.

Using some water from his canteen, Hewson rinsed the bracelet and removed as much carbon and blood from it as he could. Turning it in his hands, he saw a faint inscription on the bracelet's inside edge. Staring back at Hewson were the initials 'JD'.

"Joanna?" Hewson stammered.

In silent response, the demon nodded its head slowly and deliberately, leaving no doubt in Hewson's mind that he was indeed looking at the undead remains of Joanna Davies. Hewson had never been one to be driven by his emotions, but as the demon sat there mocking him, his hand reached for his pistol.

Taking nothing but pleasure from his sorrow, a low pitched laugh rose up from the body of the beast, followed by only three words.

"WE ARE COMING!"

As the remorseless taunt continued, Hewson's hand tightened around the butt of his pistol. Knowing that his friend was lost in there somewhere amongst that mangled mess of metal and bone, he did the only thing he could. Listening to his heart, he levelled his weapon at the already shattered skull plating and pulled the trigger repeatedly.

Only after the gun was empty did Hewson consider his actions. He then fell to his knees and was violently sick.

*****

As Hewson recovered, the Mystic came about and landed fifty metres to the South.

Deciding not to bother with the tail ramp, Sorrenstam left the engines running and kicked open the side hatch. Such was their physical appearance, he barely recognised the four individuals walking towards him. With sweat, dirt and blood ingrained on their skin and clothes, the only features that really stood out were the whites of their eyes.

Thorpe was the first one to acknowledge Sorrenstam, and as he approached the side hatch, Sorrenstam handed him a flask of whisky.

Thorpe said nothing. He simply took the flask and drank heavily.

"Report?" Sorrenstam said gravely.

"Right now I wouldn't know where to start." Thorpe replied, passing the flask to Hewson.

"Pathfinder is destroyed and all of the colonists are dead." Hewson said softly. "Let's just leave it there for now and get the hell out of here."

*****

Once Jackson and Hendrix had recovered Petterson's body, they carried it down the hill and secured it at the rear of the drop ship. Hendrix then assumed the position of co-pilot.

"You got tagged pretty hard up there sir." Hendrix said to Sorrenstam. "Is she going to hold together?"

"We lost part of the primary hull, so it could get interesting." Sorrenstam replied as he increased power.

As the Mystic surged forwards and accelerated up through the stratosphere, Sorrenstam opened communications with the Cleopatra.

"Cleopatra, this is the Mystic. We'll be with you in eight minutes. Be ready for immediate departure I want to put some distance between us and this planet."

Chapter 19: Premonitions

As the Cleopatra took refuge in a neighbouring star system, repair crews assessed the full extent of the damage caused by the enemy raiding party. Fortunately most was superficial, however the minor hull breach had proved to be far more troublesome and in the end had required Perez to be tethered outside the ship for over four hours, welding plate steel over the twenty centimetre rupture.

Once the four surviving members of the doomed rescue mission had showered and changed their clothes, they convened in Sorrenstam's quarters whilst he debriefed them. Their accounts were identical, though no one had the language to convey the true horror of the experience, or speak at any length about the dead. That would come later.

Knowing how tired they were, Sorrenstam wrapped things up as quickly as he could and an hour and a half later, he collected their signed statements.

"Does anyone want to go the Mess Hall? Maybe have a game of cards?" Hewson asked, knowing he wouldn't be able to sleep.

"'I'll come with you." Thorpe said.

"Me too." Sorrenstam added, placing the statements in a red file, before turning to Jackson and Hendrix. "Are you coming?"

"I'm going to try and get some sleep." Jackson said quietly, clearly wanting to be alone.

Acknowledging Jackson with a nod and a warm smile, Sorrenstam watched her walk away and then turned to Hendrix. "Lieutenant?"

"If it's OK with you sir, I'm going to make a start on the repairs to the Mystic?" Hendrix replied.

"We'll see you both later then." Sorrenstam replied respectfully.

As Hewson and the others reached the Mess Hall, they saw Perez approaching from the opposite direction, carrying a welding torch over one shoulder, and an oxygen tank on the other. In addition to fixing the hull, Perez had spent the rest of his day helping to replace the furniture in the Mess Hall.

"I'm afraid the Mess Hall is quite aptly named at the moment." Perez said in greeting. "Though the kitchen has only just stopped serving, so you might get lucky with some leftovers?"

"Did you want to join us?" Sorrenstam asked.

"Sounds good to me sir. Then some sleep I think."

*****

No one had eaten very much over the last few days and they didn't feel particularly hungry now, but as Sorrenstam lifted the lid of the last hot plate, they were confronted by the welcome site of a Shepherd's Pie.

There was very little conversation, though the food was gladly received and afterwards Sorrenstam passed the hip flask around again. Letting the smooth spirit course through them, they all sat in companionable silence until an announcement came on over the ship wide loudspeaker, requesting Perez' presence on the Bridge.

"They're playing my song." Perez said before standing up from the table.

"I'm going to try and get some sleep." Hewson said, taking advantage of the interruption.

*****

As Hewson entered the cargo bay, the total emptiness of the room hit him hard.

Gone was the friendly banter and vibrant energy. All that remained now was ghostly silence. Sitting down against the bulkhead, facing the Mystic, Hewson put his head in his hands and broke down into tears. In the end it was the thought of Kate that forced him back above the waterline and eventually he felt his muscles relax.

Taking a couple of deep breaths, Hewson wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and took off his shirt. Crawling inside his sleeping bag, he rested his head on a towel and within a few seconds fell into a deep, but troubled sleep.

In his dream Hewson stood outside the halls of residence, where he was again subjected to the massacre of his ship mates. This time, once the machine gun fire had ceased, the bodies of the dead rose up from the ground as soulless monsters and deadly cyborgs, all wanting to exact revenge on Hewson for their untimely demise. Hewson kicked and punched his way free, but no matter how fast he ran, he couldn't get away and in desperation, he ran blindly into the rainforest. Wading through the thick vegetation, he quickly became ensnared by barbed vines and as he tried to pull himself free, the razor sharp thorns ripped into his clothes and flesh slowing him down further still.

Then somehow he was free again and continued his mad dash for freedom. Looking back over his shoulder, Hewson saw no sign of his pursuers, though as he turned back around, he ran head long into a tree. Stunned, Hewson lay on his back staring up at the azure sky, until his unconscious mind faded to black.

When he woke inside his dream, he felt cold and damp. Slowly as his vision returned, Hewson realised he was back underground and laying at the edge of the reservoir. Looking up through the aperture in the ceiling, he saw that the sun had now been replaced by moonlight and across the surface of the pool, the moon's powerful luminescence reflected brightly in the still water, though somehow it made the cavern feel smaller and more menacing.

All around him, Hewson could feel an almost tangible presence, as if something was watching him from the shadows, just waiting for a moment to strike.

With his back to the pool, Hewson looked around frantically and then from behind him, on the far side of the pool, he heard something move. As he stared out across the water, he began to doubt his senses, but then the outline of a man came forward and stopped at the water's edge.

Impossibly this lone figure seemed infinitely darker than the darkness surrounding it. It was as though it radiated pure evil and stood apart from all else.

Though the spectre's face remained hidden, Hewson could feel its eyes burning deeply into his, and as before with the cyborg, he could feel his mind being invaded.

From above, the light from the aperture intensified and cast an otherworldly glow down on the anonymous figure. Slowly the shadowy profile came into focus and when Hewson saw who was staring back at him, his heart pounded in his chest, making him struggle for breath.

Standing in front of Hewson was a perfect copy of himself.

With its eyes fixed on Hewson's, the doppelganger backed away slowly and stood behind what appeared to be a lectern. Then with an upward gesture of its hands, the level of light increased to reveal the council chamber.

With a terrible smile, the dark vessel invited Hewson to look around the room. Displayed on the stone tables lining the inner circle of the chamber, were the severed heads of his ship mates, among them Thorpe and Sorrenstam. In horror, Hewson took a step back, though stumbled as his feet hit something. As he turned and looked down, Hewson saw Kate's disembodied head staring up at him, her eyes fixed, her mouth silently pleading.

A number of primal emotions hit Hewson all at once, though it was rage that won the battle, though as he leapt at his dark double, he was held fast by an invisible barrier.

Feasting on his captive's anger and sorrow, the doppelganger stood in front of Hewson and looked deeply into his eyes. It said just three words, three words that Hewson heard both spoken aloud and amplified in his mind tenfold.

" _WE ARE COMING!!!"_

It was at that moment that Hewson woke in a cold sweat and found Thorpe standing over him.

"Get your clothes on." Thorpe said gravely. "We've got a problem."

*****

The Bridge of the Cleopatra was more crowded than Hewson had ever seen it. All of the senior officers were stood around the science station speaking to each other in low whispers, their conversation interrupted every few seconds by Sorrenstam.

Breathing a frustrated sigh, Sorrenstam picked up a chart that was spread out across the science station and headed for the door, at which point he saw Hewson and Thorpe.

"Gentlemen. Join us will you." Sorrenstam said on his way past them.

Once everyone had gathered in the Tech Lab, Perez moved directly over to the far side of the room and pulled the liquid crystal display down from the ceiling. He then commenced the briefing with any prompting from Sorrenstam.

"We've been analysing the data from the last seventy two hours and we think we know how our people were being controlled." Perez said, allowing everyone a moment to settle before continuing.

"The Cleopatra recorded six separate singularities. Using Professor Davies' initial findings as a base line, we cross referenced each time index and ran a full analysis. The field harmonics themselves all match perfectly, but then we discovered another signal being transmitted at almost the exact same frequency. We wouldn't have noticed it at all if hadn't been for the power outages from the colonies reactor, but you can see here quite clearly the second signal. So far we don't know much, other than the signal is alien and doesn't conform to any known algorithms. What I can tell you, is that during the first two time indexes the signal originated from a point in space so distant that the computer couldn't identify it. However, during the last four time indexes it was closer. Here at 1560 light years, then 1554, 1547, and from what we can tell, it's tracking for our galaxy."

All Hewson could hear in his mind, were the words from his dream, now being repeated over and over like a looped recording.

WE ARE COMING. WE ARE COMING. WE ARE COMING. WE ARE COMING!!!

Almost catatonic, Hewson could only sit there staring in silence at the display.

"Thank-you Lieutenant Commander." Sorrenstam said and then took over the briefing. "We think the last four signals almost certainly originated from a ship, so assuming for a moment that the ship doesn't travel directly to Mars through a singularity, we estimate the enemy could be in range to attack the Sanctuary within two months."

Everyone was silent as Sorrenstam's words hit home. And it was home where their thoughts remained.
Chapter 20: Homeward Bound

After the briefing, Hewson returned to the Bridge with Perez and reviewed the sensor logs again. He wasn't sure exactly what it was he was looking for, but given the threat level, he wanted to be sure that nothing had been missed.

As they sat there in silence, the Helmsman walked over to Perez and handed him a PDA which had the latest engine performance data on display. As Perez had already noted, the engines had been worked extremely hard on their outward journey, and now as a result, the Cleopatra was limping at less than half her normal cruising speed, which for the crew meant an additional two weeks in deep space.

Having not been able to glean anything new from the data, Hewson left Perez to his duties and walked back to the cargo bay. He'd had no further nightmares, though remained pensive about the entire experience. Had it been a nightmare or something else entirely?

On the planet's surface the creatures had been constantly one step ahead of them. They had operated as one unit so completely and so cohesively he now wondered if like the cyborg there was a telepathic quality they needed to consider. He also found himself wondering if his nightmare had in fact been another violation of the mind, though with Pathfinder destroyed and the creatures slain, the facts didn't fit. For it to have been anything else other than a dream, his mind would have to have been linked back to the source, via some form of cross-dimensional telepathy. _Surely then, it can only have been a dream_?

He was however convinced that Perez was correct in his interpretation of the data. Pathfinder had been the catalyst and instrument of control.

Just as he'd done for the Cleopatra, Hewson was confident he could project a temporal field around the Sanctuary to protect its citizens, though if the enemy were on their way in force, then that would be an entirely different proposition and one which would require a more proactive military solution. There was also the question of whether the ship or ships on route had themselves fallen prey to whatever had compromised the Ashen 2 colony.

Of all the questions and fragmented thoughts in Hewson's mind, he was only certain about one thing. The military had just been given all of the funding it would ever need.

Sitting down against the bulkhead, he removed from his holdall a very old and battered paperback thriller.

Ever since his youth he had enjoyed reading, and whenever his Father had permitted it, he would put down the PDA in favour of a real book. Back home, in amongst his Father's collection, there were several first generation hardbacks and even now, if Hewson ever wanted to immerse himself in the literary world, he would leaf through the pages of one of those wonderful tomes. Opening the book at chapter five, he started reading, but the words didn't seem to register and several times he found himself reading over the same paragraph more than once. It was then that Thorpe entered the cargo bay.

"I've not heard of that one." Thorpe said, taking in the faded title.

"Me neither. That's why I thought I'd take a crack at it." Hewson replied wearily.

"What's it about?" Thorpe asked.

"Terrorists. Espionage. A world at war."

"Sounds familiar. I was just off for a quick bite and then hopefully some poker with Jackson and Hendrix if you want to join us?"

"Yeah sure, why not." Hewson said, placing the book back in his holdall. Feeling woolly headed and lethargic, he yawned loudly and stretched his arms behind his back before standing up. "Have you and Sorrenstam sent your report back home yet?"

"Yep. We've given _the powers that be_ the facts, now we'll see what conclusions they draw." Thorpe said almost flippantly. "It's out of our hands now anyway."

"And that's the part that scares me." Hewson replied.

"Ye of little faith." Thorpe replied. "The secret is you've got to have some, just not too much."

*****

As Hewson and Thorpe walked into the Mess Hall, Hendrix and Jackson waved them over to their table in the far corner. Between them was a half consumed bottle of whisky and an untouched plate of sandwiches.

"How goes it?" Thorpe asked respectfully.

"Felt better Colonel, that's for damn sure." Jackson remarked, slightly worse for the whisky.

"It gets better, I promise. And I swear they'll all be given the highest honours when we get back home."

With a lump in her throat, Jackson nodded and then said. "After you two have had some chow, we'll deal you in. And Colonel, I hope you've brought your wallet."

Thorpe smiled and when he and Hewson returned, they were carrying two steaming plates of sausage and mashed potato. Both men where famished, so it took only a few minutes to demolish their meals, and their enthusiasm also encouraged Jackson and Hendrix' appetite.

"One soldier to another Colonel." Hendrix said offering Thorpe the whisky bottle. "Do you feel like telling us a tale from your regiment days?"

"What do you want to know?" Thorpe said, accepting the whisky and taking a large swig before passing it to Hewson.

"What's the funniest thing that ever happened to you on the job?" Jackson replied without any real thought.

"The funniest?" Thorpe asked, recognising that Jackson probably felt more inclined to speak of her own experiences and almost certainly Petterson's. He'd seen it all too often. He himself had needed to vent many times in the past over the death of a comrade, and it never got any easier.

"Yeah, I'll give you a for instance." Jackson started. "When Petterson and I were on our first security rotation on the Valiant, we were sent to this God forsaken rock to help the science guys set up some damned monitoring station. No offence Rob, but these guys were as dull as fence posts."

"Yeah that would have been Collins and Duval." Hewson said, laughing.

"Duval. Yeah that's the guy!" Jackson said.

"I've worked with him a couple of times." Hewson offered. "He's a sweet guy, but he makes reorganising your sock drawer seem inspirational."

"You got it." Jackson laughed. "So, deciding Duval needed a little more humour in his life, Petterson took a pressure suit and in the wee hours of the morning, took a little walk 'outside'. Ten minutes later he came back looking very pleased with himself and then all hell broke loose. Petterson had screwed around with one of the monitoring stations and made Duval think he'd had a close encounter! The guy went nuts! Didn't speak to us for the rest of the trip and wrote a glowing letter of approval to our CO."

With the drink now free flowing, everyone laughed at Jackson's story, especially Jackson who slammed her palms down on the table.

"To Petterson." Jackson toasted.

Disturbing Petterson's wake, the Cleopatra suddenly shook violently, sending plates and cutlery crashing to the floor.

"What the hell was that?" Thorpe asked.

"The Quantum Drive is offline." Hewson said, confirming his statement by pointing to the observation window, where they could all see that the ship was surrounded by normal space.

Without another word, everyone got up and ran down the main passageway.

*****

As Hewson and the others reached the Bridge, it was chaos. Each department was reporting in to Sorrenstam as they tried to ascertain why the ship had come to a full stop, though through the view screen, it looked to Hewson like the ship was slowly drifting backwards.

"Chaplin. I need that update now!" Sorrenstam barked at the young officer sitting at the helm.

"The Quantum field is still active sir." Chaplin replied clearly. "And the engines are holding at 63%."

With a fairly good idea of what was happening, Hewson ran over to the science station and examined the sensor readings. "Captain put up the dispersion field now!" Hewson said.

Sorrenstam looked over to Perez who reacted immediately.

Knowing there must be a singularity forming around them, Hewson pushed aside the science officer and hammered away at the touch pad, trying to get a celestial fix.

"Sensor readings are fluctuating between our current position and another that's unknown." Hewson stated. "Captain, I think we're caught in a singularity and there's a gravity well or tractor beam pulling us through to the other side."

"Helm. Bring the engines to full power, NOW!" Sorrenstam shouted.

"Engines at maximum" Chaplin relied instantly.

"No good, we're still stationary." Hewson replied.

"Twenty seconds until core shutdown!" Perez added.

"Still nothing!" Hewson shouted, struggling to be heard over the engines.

"OK. Shut it down." Sorrenstam told Chaplin. "Transmit our coordinates and fire the emergency buoy. Perez, bring the weapon systems on line."

"Emergency Buoy launched, but weapons and communications are non-functional." Perez replied.

Sorrenstam slammed his hands into the side of his chair with sheer frustration, and as the Cleopatra slipped backwards in to the singularity, so did the emergency buoy.

"I want armed personnel stationed at every exterior entrance to this ship." Sorrenstam ordered Perez.

With no more words exchanged, Perez left the Bridge to organise the crew.

The U.R.M had charted over three quarters of the quadrant, so Hewson knew that for the computer to have designated this region of space as unknown, they were at least two thousand light years from their own galaxy. Though more terrifyingly, it was also possible they were being pulled in to another dimension all together.

The Cleopatra rotated through a hundred and eighty degrees and as they turned, a small grey ringed planet appeared on the view screen.

"The gravity well is emanating from that planet, Captain." Hewson said looking down at the sensors.

To those on the Bridge, the planet bore no resemblance to any they'd ever seen before. Its surface was a bewildering mosaic of different colours and textures, split into unnaturally inorganic shapes.

"Can you increase magnification?" Sorrenstam asked.

As Hewson hammered away on the touch pad, a recticle appeared around the central section of the planet, magnifying the image by a factor of ten.

As they drew closer, it became apparent that the planet's rings didn't consist of ice or rock at all. Instead, they saw a vast number of space craft.

"What the hell is this place?" Sorrenstam said rhetorically.

"A space port of some kind?" Hewson offered.

"Looks more like a damned graveyard to me." Thorpe said.

"Are you able to scan any of those ships?" Sorrenstam asked.

"I'm reading intermittent power readings." Hewson said. "But I think there's something interfering with the scan, as the resolution is very limited."

"Can you scan the planet's surface?" Sorrenstam asked, leaning over Hewson's shoulder.

"Not clearly. But the atmosphere appears to be of an oxygen argon composition." Hewson said.

"Is there any way to escape the gravity field?" Sorrenstam asked.

"If we generate a sub space field around the Cleopatra, we might be able to break free?" Hewson offered.

"Get on it." Sorrenstam said.

"Shit." Hewson said loudly. "The singularity has just collapsed."

"Carry on anyway." Sorrenstam said. "We may still be able to get away and buy some time."

Before Hewson could put his plan into action, the entire ship lost power.

"Mains power is down." Chaplin said. "I'm rerouting auxiliary power to life support."

"Could we use auxiliary power to break free?" Sorrenstam asked weakly.

Exasperated, Hewson shook his head. "No. And with the temporal field down, we're all vulnerable. We'll need to get the phase emitters back on immediately."

Sorrenstam nodded and told another of the Bridge officers to distribute the phase emitters. He then looked over at Thorpe who was sat down at one of the empty work stations, deep in thought.

"Any recommendations?" Sorrenstam asked as calmly as he could.

Before Thorpe could answer, a shrill burst of static broke out over the ship wide loud speaker, and as the static cleared it was followed by a menacing low pitched voice, the same voice Hewson had heard in his dream.

"WE ARE HERE!"

Fear and panic spread like wild fire on the Cleopatra, and at hearing the voice again in the waking world, Hewson went in to meltdown.

"OK we're caught." Thorpe said breaking the silence. "And I think it's a fairly safe bet we're going to be boarded. I say we set charges around the ship and make a break for it in the Mystic. Hopefully when the Cleopatra goes up, it'll cause enough of a stir to let us escape and get down to the planet's surface."

"Agreed." Sorrenstam said. "Let's get to the Armoury."

*****

Meeting Perez on route, Sorrenstam brought him up to date as he entered his authorisation code into the Armoury door. He then ran over to a crate of magnetic charges and unpacked ten of the two kilogram devices.

"I'll take care of the Bridge." Sorrenstam said. "Perez you've got the engine room. Colonel, Professor you take care of the Mess Hall. Set your detonators to channel two. And just in case we can't remote detonate, set your timers for ten minutes."

There was no discussion, everyone took what they needed and went their separate ways.

*****

After planting his first charge on the bridge, Sorrenstam ordered the crew to board the Mystic, and as he looked out through the view screen, he estimated they had five minutes before they reached the debris field. If they were to have any chance at all of escaping, they'd have to time their departure precisely and attempt to leave the Cleopatra a split second before the charges were detonated.

It was then that Hewson and Thorpe ran onto the bridge.

"We're all set in the Mess Hall." Thorpe said.

"And I'm almost done here." Sorrenstam replied, as he placed another charge next to the view screen. "There's a phase emitter for each of you on my chair."

Hewson passed one of the devices to Thorpe, before fastening one around his own waist.

"Let's get the hell out of here." Sorrenstam said.

Doing as instructed, Hewson and Thorpe made a break for the door, though before following them, Sorrenstam glanced around the Bridge one last time.

"Good bye old girl."

*****

As Hewson, Thorpe and Sorrenstam entered the cargo bay, the crew were already boarding the Mystic. Inside the cockpit, Hendrix and Jackson had just finished rushing through their pre-flight checks, and upon seeing the others approach, they jumped out of the side hatch.

"The ship's loaded, fully fuelled and ready to go." Hendrix said.

"How are we for weapons Sergeant?" Sorrenstam asked.

"She's carrying a full complement of missiles and 30mm rounds. On the ground we'll have about five hundred rounds a piece, twelve grenades and five RPGs." Jackson replied.

"Excellent." Sorrenstam replied. He then looked across at Hendrix. "Lieutenant. I hereby authorise you to be all you can be. Get us out of her in one piece and there's a bottle of ten year old in it for you."

"Make it a crate and you've got a deal!" Hendrix said as he and Jackson made their way back to the cockpit.

"Ready to take another roller coaster ride?" Thorpe asked Hewson.

"Do I have a choice?"

*****

With everyone secured, Sorrenstam Thorpe and Hewson went forward to the cockpit.

"Report." Sorrenstam asked.

"We're five thousand metres from what looks like a space station." Hendrix said routing the Cleopatra's view screen through to the Mystic's heads-up display. "At our current speed we'll dock in ninety seconds."

"OK. Wait until our nose is touching it, then open the cargo bay doors and go to full power. I'll do the rest." Sorrenstam said caressing the remote detonator.

Once again a powerful burst of static erupted over the comms systems, followed by the voice.

"WE ARE HERE!"

"Thirty seconds." Hendrix announced.

As Hewson strapped himself into his seat, he felt a wave of anxiety tear through him. It was like plummeting back into the icy depths of the reservoir, though without any control or ability to move. The voice was resonating differently with him now. He tried to ignore it but couldn't and as he continued to listen, he heard it inside his mind also, trying to dominate and push aside his own consciousness.

"KILL THEM ALL. KILL THEM ALL. KILL THEM ALL."

Thorpe and Sorrenstam, who were about to take their own seats, didn't hear Hewson come forwards. Grabbing Thorpe by his throat, Hewson hurled him across the cabin and then squared up to Sorrenstam. Acting quickly, Sorrenstam threw a monstrous uppercut that rocked Hewson's head back, rendering him instantly unconscious.

Picking him up, Sorrenstam and Thorpe returned Hewson to his seat and it was then they saw his absent phase emitter, which had become entangled in his seat harness.

"GET STRAPPED IN BACK THERE NOW!" Hendrix shouted, bringing the engines online.

Praying that his friend hadn't been lost, Thorpe re-fastened Hewson's phase emitter, before leaping into own seat.

With his hands poised on the throttle, Hendrix lined the Mystic up with the open cargo bay doors and activated the ship wide loud speaker. "ALL HANDS. BRACE, BRACE, BRACE!"

The instant Sorrenstam felt the surge of forward momentum, he hit the detonator.

Their departure and the explosion were so well timed, that both events seemed to happen simultaneously. With only a fraction of a second head start from the resulting shock wave, Hendrix had to accelerate so rapidly that the entire crew, including himself, almost blacked out. As the blast hit them, the Mystic was spun around like a toy, lighting up every one of its master alarms. Somehow Hendrix managed to regain control, and through a combination of masterful skill and pure luck, he narrowly avoided a fatal collision with one of the derelict space craft. Wasting no time, Hendrix took the ship down through the debris field and toward the planet.

"How are we doing back there?" Jackson shouted, her eyes lingering warily on Hewson.

"Everything's fine back here." Sorrenstam said. "Is there anyone or anything in pursuit?"

"That's a negative." Hendrix replied. "There were steady energy readings coming from that space station before the Cleopatra went up, and now they're practically non-existent. I think we've dealt them some serious damage."

"Good. Can you get us down to the planet's surface?" Sorrenstam asked.

"We've lost two stabilisers, but I think she'll hold together. Landing could be interesting though!" Hendrix replied, his usual bravado diminished somewhat.

The increase in cabin temperature as the Mystic hit the upper atmosphere was intense. Almost immediately the small ship started to shake as the hull became red hot.

In the cockpit, the heads-up display indicated that the Mystic was losing the battle, so deciding against any further distraction, Hendrix deactivated it. If they made it through re-entry, then he was fairly sure he could get them down in one piece, just not quite as sure as he'd told Sorrenstam.

After two minutes of pure torture, the Mystic passed through the dark veil of night and continued down into a severe weather system that covered most of the Northern hemisphere.

Following a series of instructions from Hendrix, Jackson was able to re-route emergency power to primary life support and to the relief of everyone on board, the ventilation system started to circulate cool, fresh air again.

Undoing his safety belt, Sorrenstam went forward to the cockpit, leaving Thorpe to watch Hewson who was starting to come around.

Still semi-conscious Hewson softly murmured Kate's name, but it was loud enough for Thorpe to hear and thank God that his friend was still in residence.

"Rob. Can you hear me?" Thorpe said, placing his knife back in its sheath.

"Yeah. What happened? Did I pass out again?" Hewson said rubbing his jaw.

"In a manner of speaking." Thorpe laughed. "Your phase emitter came undone and you were under the thrall there for a while."

"Did I hurt anyone?!" Hewson asked, hazy memories flashing through his mind.

"You showed me a couple of new Judo holds, but other than that, we're OK." Thorpe replied. Sorrenstam then returned and smiled to see Hewson showing no ill effects.

"We thought we'd lost you there for a while. Sorry about the jaw by the way, but you didn't leave me with much of a choice."

"No problem." Hewson replied, his whole head now throbbing. "Any ideas where we're headed?"

"Hendrix still can't get a detailed scan of the surface, but it looks like there's a lake or river a couple of hundred kilometres away, so we're heading for that. At least then we can ditch in the drink if we have to."

The Mystic struggled on, but she was losing altitude much more rapidly than Hendrix would have liked. He now feared that their explosive departure had caused more damage than first thought, and to confirm his suspicion, the engines started to lose power intermittently.

"OK, I can see a clearing near the water." Hendrix shouted. "Batten down the hatches boys and girls, this one could get a bit rough!"

Hendrix tried to throttle back but nothing happened and the ship just careered on. Knowing that they wouldn't stay in the air much longer, Hendrix weighed his options carefully. With Jackson looking on aghast, Hendrix initiated an emergency engine shutdown and the Mystic literally fell out of the sky like a stone. Keeping a close eye on the altimeter, he waited until they'd passed through two thousand metres and then pitched the craft backwards, so that its nose was pointing skyward. He then tried to re-light the engines, but nothing happened. Watching the altimeter pass through nine hundred metres, Hendrix tried again. Still nothing. On the third time of asking, and with only three hundred metres until impact, the engines roared back into life. Looking out through the port side window, Hendrix saw the ground coming up to greet them, so before the throttle could jam again, he pitched the ship forwards and hit the emergency shutdown button. The Mystic came down heavily just short of a large lake, and once it had settled, everyone sat in silence, not quite believing that they'd made it down alive.

"Nice flying man!" Jackson said breaking the spell. "Now let's get the hell out of this fricking tin can!"

"It's OK baby, she didn't mean it." Hendrix said stroking the Mystic's control console.

Chapter 21: Flying the Flag

It had been five weeks since Kate had received news of the Cleopatra's disappearance and since then she had not been able to think about anything else. Grieving had simply not been an option for her, as not for a moment had she thought that her husband was dead.

Unsurprisingly, Kate had struggled to sleep and when she did, it was only for a few fleeting hours, so consequently most of her waking time had been spent working in one way or another.

Guilt ridden by Kate's condition, Harrison had arranged for her to have reduced working hours, though she had point blankly refused to take the antidepressants she'd been prescribed.

When insomnia did inevitably strike, Kate had adopted the routine of sitting up in bed and trying to piece together for herself what had happened to the Cleopatra. The search was still very much on, but to Kate it didn't seem like the situation was being treated with the same urgency. To date all the council had been able to substantiate were approximate coordinates of where they believed the Cleopatra had disappeared. And approximate coordinates in an area of space that measured over 9 billion kilometres, were as good as useless.

The common theory was that the Cleopatra may have collided with a meteorite or some other stellar matter. Additional long range sensor sweeps continued to add to the picture day by day, but so far neither Kate, nor any of Harrison's brightest minds had been able to draw any firm conclusions.

*****

On her way to a 2000hrs dinner reservation at Ocean View, Kate paid little attention to anyone as she paced the corridors of the main habitat. Harrison had been trying to coax her out of the house in a social capacity for weeks now, and today Kate had finally run out of excuses.

Spotting Kate walking through the busy restaurant, Harrison stood up to get her attention, and remained standing until she'd taken a seat.

"You're looking more rested." Harrison said with a smile.

"Bullshit!" Kate said quietly. "But thanks anyway."

"What can I get you?" Harrison offered, draining what was left of her second glass of bourbon.

"Just water thank you." Kate replied.

Calling the waiter over, Harrison ordered Kate's drink and also another bourbon for herself and then over a dinner of vegetable stew, Harrison gave Kate some news that was actually news worthy.

In deference to Kate's opinion, the council had been working round the clock to analyse the deep space relay station's sensor logs. Harrison explained that late the previous evening they'd identified the Cleopatra's transponder from a sensor sweep that'd been completed five weeks ago. The transponder's signal had been right on the limit of the station's range, and too weak for the computer to classify, therefore had initially gone unnoticed.

After much scrutiny, Harrison's analysts had been able to isolate the Cleopatra's transponder for thirty three minutes before her disappearance, which now meant they knew exactly where to start looking.

With Kate's full attention, Harrison told her that the Achilles was being dispatched at 1100hrs the following morning with Nathan Green in command. Green was only six years out of the academy, but had graduated top of his class and for the last year, had been personally tutored by Sorrenstam. His only failing in Yoshida's eyes was that he was also a close personal friend of Harrison's, and Harrison was adamant that in the past Yoshida had denied Green his own commission simply because of their history. However in this case, there was simply no one else as qualified, so if Yoshida had disagreed with the council's decision to send Green, he'd chosen wisely to remain silent.

As their after dinner drinks arrived, Harrison told Kate that Green's first task would be to rendezvous with the relay station and confirm the data.

Kate sat quietly for a moment considering what she'd been told, though Harrison could practically read her mind and then as expected, came the request.

"Rebecca. I have a favour to ask."

"Name it." Harrison said, her eyes softening.

"Can you get me a duty assignment on the Achilles? I need to know what happened to Rob."

Harrison took another sip of her bourbon before answering. She knew that Kate hadn't logged any time on a Starglider, but was also aware of her credentials as an analyst. And thanks to her Father's teachings, her understanding of engineering was also impressive, so her request was hard to ignore.

"I'll of course ask the question." Harrison replied honestly. "Green does owe me a favour. But at this late hour, I can't promise anything. Ultimately it's his call."

"I understand." Kate replied, though couldn't meet Harrison's eyes.

After they'd finished, Harrison put both meals on her tab and they walked outside together.

"OK. I'm going to go and speak to Green, and you'll have your answer by 0700hrs tomorrow. And don't worry, I'll send you the latest sensor logs, so you can see everything for yourself."

"Thanks Rebecca." Kate said.

"Just promise me you'll try to get some sleep?"

"I'll try." Kate replied. "See you tomorrow."

Harrison watched Kate walk away, though didn't believe for a second that she'd do as she'd said.

*****

Within minutes of Kate being home, she'd made herself a coffee and was settled in front of the computer terminal. As good as her word, Harrison emailed her the latest sensor logs, and Kate sat there for the next two hours digesting the data before finally admitting defeat.

With tired eyes she headed for the shower, hoping it would relax her sufficiently to sleep. Not caring about the water ration for the month, Kate simply stood under the nozzle for thirty minutes with her eyes closed, trying to empty her mind. Stepping out of the cubicle, she wrapped one towel around her head and the other around her torso, and after brushing her teeth, she walked through to the bedroom and threw on a night shirt. Sprawled out on her bed, Kate thought about what Harrison had told her.

What would happen if Green refused to take her? Would Harrison try to force her hand or would she have to try and stow away somehow? She needed to be on that ship.

With increasingly tired eyes, Kate looked across at her bedside clock and slowly its green digits came into focus, confirming it was a little before 0100hrs. The thought of being rejected for duty on the Achilles simply fuelled her restlessness, so throwing on a pair of jogging bottoms and a light grey jumper, she walked to the kitchen. Sitting down on one of the plastic stools by the boiler, she filled a mug with hot water and reached up into the cupboard for a jar of powdered tea. Not bothering with a spoon, Kate poured the remainder of the jar into her mug and swilled it around, watching silently as the water turned a dark tan.

On autopilot, she wandered into the lounge and fell back into the armchair closest to the front door. She sat there for a while, slowly sipping her tea, but it wasn't long before she was looking over at the window. Placing her cup down on the coffee table, Kate stood up and walked over to the front door where she threw on a light blue jacket and her running shoes. Once she'd locked up, she walked away in to the night.

With no destination in mind, Kate sauntered through the main habitat and on to the docking ring. There were containers piled up near the closed landing bay doors and their markings indicated they were loaded with food and water supplies. As her glance lingered, Kate's eyes searched out the maintenance crawl space a few metres from the containers. She knew it linked up with others that ran under the main habitat and on to compartments that housed the emergency generators. And these also ran directly under the landing bay.

Once more Kate thought of stowing away. If she could get into the hangar and on to the shuttlecraft, perhaps she could hide inside a storage locker. Or if she could find a flight suit, she might even be able to hide in plain sight. But whatever happened, she needed to remain hidden until the Achilles was under way. Once they'd embarked, she knew Green wouldn't halt the mission just to bring her back to the Sanctuary.

There were probably four locations where Kate could discreetly access the crawl spaces, and since the shuttlecraft wasn't due to depart until 0900hrs, she had the luxury of waiting to see if Harrison came through for her.

Leaving the docking ring, she soon found herself standing in front of the entrance to the botanical gardens. There'd been several instances in the last few months when Kate and Hewson had gone walking in the gardens after hours. They knew it was prohibited, but it was much more of an experience to have the place to yourself than to share it with others. It took her a few seconds to remember Hewson's override code, and once the doors had retracted, she ran inside and quickly sealed them again.

With the time pushing 0130hrs, the only illumination came from the simulated half-moon which cast a peaceful light on the surrounding parkland. Without thinking, she walked straight across the playing fields and continued up the winding slope until she came to the end of the path. When she looked up, she saw the gates to the cemetery. One of them was already open, beckoning her, or perhaps even daring her to enter. Making her own destiny, she continued past the gates and walked slowly over to David Hewson's grave. Brushing her hand across the top of the tombstone, she became lost in her thoughts, but then from out of the shadows, a familiar voice spoke to her.

"So, you're going to get some sleep then are you?" Harrison said, stepping into the moonlight, only the slightest hint of sarcasm inflecting her last two words.

"How did you know I was going to be here?!"

"Let's just say that years of playing poker comes in handy more often than you might think." Harrison answered. "Anyway, I have some good news for you. I've spoken to Green and you're in."

"Thank you." Kate said embracing Harrison.

"It wasn't all that difficult in the end." Harrison said modestly. "It turns out three of Green's crew have been taken ill, so he was very grateful for your offer. You'll need to report to docking bay three at 0900hrs."

As some of the emotional weight that had accumulated over the last five weeks lifted from Kate, she became aware of just how tired she really was. All that she craved now was five or six hours of uninterrupted sleep.

Arm in arm, Kate and Harrison walked back through the main habitat, though this time Harrison escorted Kate all the way to her door.

Chapter 22: The End of the Beginning

In the five weeks that followed the destruction of the Cleopatra, the crew of the Mystic had not seen another living soul, which in some ways had actually been worse, as they'd had nothing but time to dwell on the ghosts of the past.

Generally everyone had adapted very well to their new surroundings. There were fish in the nearby lake and no shortage of fresh water and edible vegetation from the surrounding forest, though as yet no one had seen any obvious prey animals.

Shortly after their arrival, Thorpe and Sorrenstam had decided that they needed a more defendable position, so up on the nearby hillside, surrounded by trees, they'd excavated a series of interlinking trenches, in which they now slept and ate.

Dead fall pits had been dug at the bottom of the hillside and around the Mystic, which for the time being had to remain out in the open. And as a further security measure they'd also agreed to maintain radio silence.

For the first two weeks the extensive ground-works had provided a much needed distraction for everyone, which in turn had given Thorpe and Sorrenstam time to consider their situation. Though as time dripped away, morale became more of an issue and in a couple of cases, petty disagreements had actually led to fist fights.

Like many others, Hewson had decided to keep a journal, recording all of his experiences. Optimistically, he started all his journal entries with the words 'Dearest Kate', hoping one day he would actually have the opportunity to share his insights with her. He kept his writing as light and as informative as he could, but with each passing day, he found it increasingly difficult to remain upbeat and positive.

As part of his own self devised therapy, Hewson had been assisting Hendrix with the repairs to the Mystic, though it was probably just swapping one form of frustration for another. Between them, they'd inspected and repaired most of the ship's systems, but it was the main computer that was the real problem. The CPU itself was undamaged, but thanks to the electrical fire, half of the circuit boards had been completely destroyed. Some of which they'd replaced from non-essential systems, but with limited tools to hand, the progress was arduously slow. Until the main computer was fully functional, they knew they couldn't risk taking off, let alone trying to break orbit. And even if they did manage to get off the planet's surface, there were still three potentially impossible conundrums to contend with.

Firstly to get back to their own part of the galaxy they'd need to open a singularity. Hewson still had the specifications for Pathfinder on his laptop, so if he had access to the right equipment, he was confident that in time, he could deliver on this.

Their second obstacle was the journey home itself. Even if they succeeded in opening a singularity, without a celestial fix it would be impossible to calculate target coordinates for Mars. And if they did get back to the Ashen system, if they wanted to get home within their own life time, they would need a ship capable of faster than light flight. They were hopeful that one of the derelict space craft in orbit would fit the bill. However it was almost a given that the moment they broke orbit, the enemy would detect them. So they not only needed a way of avoiding detection, but also to learn the workings of an alien ship, which could take weeks.

Lastly, there was also their foes apparent telepathic ability. If the enemy could indeed read minds, then why had they not been attacked? It made no sense. Hewson had spent countless hours trying to devise a way in which to quantify the matter one way or the other, though to date it was just another frustration in a long line of frustrations. With no real evidence either way, he and Thorpe had agreed they could only be mindful of the possibility.

*****

Day 65, Dearest Kate, today whilst Thorpe and I were out hunting, we had our first piece of good luck! Though we were ultimately unsuccessful in securing our dinner, whilst giving chase, we came across a high speed data conduit that had been partially unearthed. After some excavation, we discovered an access terminal, and I've spent most of today examining it. There are a string of glyphs that appear consistently throughout the data stream, so Thorpe and I will be discussing this with Sorrenstam later, and if we're all in agreement, tomorrow we will try entering some of these glyphs into the terminal.

This is an exciting if not slightly frightening prospect, so for now, I'm going to get some rest and I'll tell you more about it tomorrow. Love Rob x

*****

Day 66 Dearest Kate, after much deliberation Thorpe, Sorrenstam and I agreed to use the terminal in an attempt to learn something of our situation and perhaps our captors. After entering one of the sequences of glyphs into the terminal, we were confronted by a three dimensional representation of the planet.

If I've interpreted the data correctly, it appears that the entire planet is divided into hundreds if not thousands of distinctly different habitats. As to what separates these, I can't say, perhaps force fields, though after looking back at the telemetry recorded during our descent, it looks like our own containment area may cover an area of several hundred square kilometres. Again, it's only a guess, but I believe we're situated less than a hundred kilometres from two of its five edges.

With all the ships in orbit it would be short sighted to think that we're the only poor souls that have been thrown into purgatory, so tomorrow at first light, seven of us will head out with the intention of making contact with our neighbours.

That's presuming of course that the cell adjacent to ours is actually occupied, and that our fellow captives are in the same vicinity at exactly the same time.

I know it's a lot of ifs, buts and maybes, but if we can beg, borrow or steal some computer components and fully repair the Mystic. Then all things are possible.

The only slightly worrying development is complacency.

Of late there've been instances where crew members have fallen asleep whilst on watch. Though these lapses have been few, to maintain discipline, Thorpe and Sorrenstam have made it clear that anybody caught sleeping on duty from now on, will receive half rations for two weeks. Hopefully this will have the desired psychological effect and nothing more drastic will be required.

The weather continues to be kind, though the nights are noticeably shorter now. Perhaps the colder weather is on the way. Thorpe has estimated that our little expedition is going to take us the best part of two weeks. We've stock piled plenty of food and have three emergency shelters between us, so if we do get caught short by the weather, we should be fine. On the subject of purgatory, due to the hole we now find ourselves in, we're referring to this planet as the Oubliette (My idea). You know how I like my history. Today I feel like I'm one step closer to you. All my love, now and forever. XR

Epilogue

There was still an hour until first light and the wind carried with it a biting chill. Though for the eight members of the scout party, bodily warmth was the least of their concerns.

It was three days since they'd set off from their waterside home and up to this point they'd proceeded without incident. The majority of their journey had taken them through frozen heath lands and large copses, the latter consisting mainly of deciduous trees and Gorse bushes.

They'd entered one of the copses an hour beforehand and a short distance ahead, Hewson could see its edge. Carefully he parted the last of the bushes, though instead of seeing more heath land, he saw only a dark brown void of completely barren land.

In either direction, for as far as the eye could see, there were no trees, no vegetation and no structures. To Hewson it looked like the ground had been scorched and the earth salted. Though bizarrely, just twenty metres further on, the forest continued unperturbed.

Taking a few ultra-cautious steps forwards, Hewson held in front of him a crude looking electrical device. If his theory was correct about there being an electronic frontier or barrier dividing the entire continent, then they were now only a few metres from the edge of their own containment area. Warily, Hewson continued to shuffle forwards. After a few more steps, his scanner lit up brightly and emitted a shrill tone.

"That's it everybody. Stop!" Hewson said, disabling the alarm. "There's a force field directly ahead."

"Are you sure?" Jackson asked.

"Trust me it's there and with the amount of power this thing's putting out, you don't want to make the mistake of touching it." Hewson replied.

"So how are we going to get around it?" Thorpe said.

"We're not. It completely surrounds us and extends fifty metres underground and three hundred metres into the air. Our only option is to go straight through it." Hewson answered.

"And how exactly are you going to do that?" Thorpe asked, slightly confused now.

"By re-modulating my phase emitter. If I can match the exact same frequency as the force field, I should be able to pass straight through it." Hewson replied, quietly confident.

"And if you're wrong?" Jackson asked somewhat sceptically.

"Then when I fall to the ground and have a convulsion, I hope one of you remembers how to administer CPR." Hewson replied sarcastically.

After a few seconds of scanning the force field, Hewson adjusted his phase emitter and then walked forwards. As he came into contact with the force field a soft orange glow appeared around his body, which disappeared once he'd passed through.

"Ye of little faith!" Hewson said to himself and then walked back through the invisible barrier toward the others.

"OK all of you get within a few metres of me." Hewson said unpacking his laptop. "I'm going to synchronise your phase emitters with mine."

As Hewson saw to the task at hand, Jackson and Thorpe kept a close eye on the surrounding woodland.

"OK I'm all done here." Hewson said packing away his laptop. He then led the team through the force field.

"Nice job Professor." Thorpe said looking over at the tree line. "I think I can see a trail over there. Jackson, I want you to take point with me. The rest of you give us some space and watch our flank."

As instructed, Hewson stayed well back with Clarke, Williams, O'Neil and Hendrix.

"Is it likely that we could have been detected as we breached the force field?" Hendrix asked.

"I wouldn't have thought so." Hewson said. "I'm sure all manner of wildlife walks or flies in to that force field every day."

*****

Thorpe estimated they had thirty minutes until first light, so he and Jackson agreed they would continue for another ten minutes before heading back to their own containment area.

As it turned out, two minutes was all that was required.

A few metres ahead the treeline and gorse thinned out to reveal another area of heath land, though this time, just a stones' throw away, they saw a log cabin.

Overlooking the cabin was a large pitched roof barn, and at either end of the camp stood a watch tower.

Hewson, who'd been watching Thorpe and Jackson's progress, hadn't see what'd caused them to stop. Fearing they needed support, he took charge, and led the others across the forest floor, and as they neared the edge of the tree line, they too caught sight of the camp.

"You two come with us." Thorpe whispered to Hewson and Hendrix. "The rest of you fall back to our containment area now."

Still largely obscured by the gorse, they crawled around the perimeter of the camp, trying to get a better look at the structures and ascertain who or what they were dealing with.

Another five minutes later, they drew level with the barn.

Through his field glasses, Thorpe studied the East watch tower.

Due to its large side panels, it was difficult to see much of anything inside, but there was definitely someone in residence, and whoever it was, was wearing a uniform, possibly olive green or dark grey. Thorpe however couldn't tell if what was inside was human or not.

Breaking the silence, the door of the log cabin swung open and a lone figure appeared. Wearing what looked like a sheepskin jacket and a balaclava, the figure carried two buckets and headed for the East watch Tower. With their back to them, he or she continued along a well beaten track, leaving the camp altogether. Presumably they were on route to a well or some other source of water.

Their attention was then drawn back to the barn as one of the two doors opened.

From behind the gorse, they watched as a far more formally dressed man emerged, wearing a grey uniform and military great coat.

For reasons that Thorpe couldn't immediately comprehend, the uniform resonated deeply with him, giving him an overwhelming feeling of déjà vu.

The man then produced a piece of material from inside his coat and walked over to a nearby tree that had been stripped of all of its branches. Whistling cheerfully to himself, the man attached to a rope what appeared to be a flag, and then started hoisting it into the air.

As it neared the top, a strong gust of wind came in over the treetops and breathed life into the vivid black and white standard.

Standing out crisply against the frozen winter sky they saw was the Iron Cross of the German Army, as it was during World War Two.

Fastening his great coat against the freshening breeze, the man flippantly saluted the flag and then returned to the barn.

Hewson and Thorpe could only look on in stunned disbelief.

END

Thank you for reading The Pathfinder Initiative. The next book in the Shadow Apocalypse series, The Starfall Prophecy, is now available to buy on Amazon and Smashwords.

Once again, thank you.

