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Timmy viewed the remains of D2 and with a sense of
dismay he said, “The last news I got told about was the
cockpit of Forgestriker had been almost destroyed and
hole had been smashed through her structure; the skipper said the controls had been jammed and he couldn’t
free them.”
The circulating air had the effect of bringing more soldiers out of hibernation, sooner than they had expected; disorientated and battle-weary they struggled to the
windows to find out where they where, the general
comment was, “Where the hell are we? This sure to hell
ain’t Baal.”
Frank glanced at Timmy and Timmy looked at the
gathering soldiers, all lost and alone in dead space and
Frank said, “Are you gonna tell ‘em’ Timmy?”
A shout from the back rang out, “Tell us what? What is
wrong and where are we?”
Silence followed as Timmy and Frank chatted silently a voice called from the balcony above, “Holy shit! Please
don’t tell me this is where I think it is.”
Soldiers turned to see Group-Maeir Dennis Jacks looking in horror out of the window nearest him.
Frank replied, “That depends on where you think this
is, Dennis.”
Not taking his eyes from the window, he said, “The
worst place in dead space, the thing nightmares are
made from; D2, ‘The Dead Station.’
A young recruit standing close to him turned to Dennis
and asked, “Why did you call D2 ‘The Dead Station? Is
it because nobody has heard about the station for
years?”
Before Dennis could reply, Hendricks appeared from
his room at the rear of the balcony and asked for silence; the men not realising what had happened prior to
the ship closing down fell silent for the man they recognised as an officer, after a short pause he spoke, “I’ll get
to the point; two days ago I sent my resignation in, so
I’m not your officer-in-charge any more, I’m a foot soldier like the rest of you. To quell any more rumours, yes, this is D2 and I had no intention of ending up here, reputation or not, this place scares me; a disused system
suddenly comes to life after 40 years, if that isn’t scary, I
can’t say what is. Our only hope lies in salvaging what
parts are here and jerry-rigging Forgestriker to try and
get power for her.”
A soldier turned to Timmy and said, “The question remains; why did Dennis call this ‘The Dead Station?”
Dennis glanced at Mal Hendricks and said, “Shall I let
him in on our secret or will you?”
The recruit was getting nervous about all the talk of D2
and now the mention of secrets, so he said, “For cryin’
out loud! Tell us, so we know the fuck is happening
here, Dennis.”
Dennis staggered across from the window and braced
himself on the rail as he prepared to reveal to the soldiers what he learned about D2’s history, “I won’t lie to
you, men, we’ve been through hell on Gameroom and
been forced to rely on each other. I wish I had good
news to tell you but this isn’t a good place to end up and
we’ll have to try to start the station from dead, it’s been a long time since the station was running and even then
records show the last people here left in a rush and until
we find out why, we are at their mercy.”
The silence became total as the men listened and Dennis waited for the question he expected would be asked
and had no answer to. Even on low power, the engines
of Forgestriker remained deafening above the silence of
the few who rose from their beds and waited for the
next report from their friends, nowhere is silence deadlier than on an a silent station run by computers.
The men shifted restlessly, each wanting to ask the question but afraid of the answer, fighting enemies you can
see is one thing but D2 had gained a reputation beyond
that and nobody had been given reasons for this, some
said this was for their protection – what you don’t
know, you don’t worry about – and others said the officers had been ordered to bury any information so deep
nobody would find out what happened and besides, nobody is likely to go to D2 again, but here stood the remaining men of the 7th Baalite; only a few hundred feet from entering the station everybody wished never existed.
The silence was broken by a voice from one of the bedridden soldiers, “Okay, we all want to ask the question,”
he said between gasping for breath and coughing blood
on his torn fatigues, “what the hell do you mean, their
mercy?”
Dennis turned to face the brave soldier and replied,
“The last reports from the station said the station was
under attack from beings which could move through
the doors and air locks as if they didn’t cause a problem.
There is no proof these creatures exist, many of the personnel left here when the station closed down had been
under stress for months; reports claimed some personnel were seen outside the safe areas, wandering the corridors and vanished off the radar searches.”
A voice from the far end of the corridor made Dennis
turn as the man said, “What do you mean; safe areas?”
Malcolm stepped into answer the question, being an officer at the time, he had a little more access to information, “The crew of D2 needed to cordon off areas because the creatures tore the outer hull and left gaping
holes; in order to maintain atmospheric pressure and
life support D2 had almost a fifth of the decks closed
down as unsafe.”
“Thanks, Malcolm, for being honest but what did he
mean about vanishing off the radar? We were told D2
has the best radar in the sector and can track things as
yet unnoticed.”
“You’re correct, D2 has the ability to detect far away objects, which is why the disappearances not only spooked
the ship but had to be kept from the notice of the rest of
the Empire; D2 was to be launched as a new frontier
post...”
Before he got a chance to continue, a voice from the
ward called out, “Now, it’s a bloody ghost town and our
fucking luck to turn up here, in the middle of nowhere
and with no supplies; God bless the empire.”
Another man rose from his bed to ask, “If there is no
proof of these creatures, what made the holes and why
did they leave suddenly?”
Desperate to find answers to the questions he had been
asked, Malcolm found himself getting lost in a maze of
possibilities, “The holes could be from meteor strikes
and although no official records show activity in the
area...”
Malcolm’s hesitation caused a large amount of worried
faces among the men and one called out, “Cut the official line of BS and bottom line things, Malcolm!”
Dennis noticed Malcolm flinch as he gripped the rail,
before his former officer as able to say more he replied,
“Malcolm and I were on the Broadsword, returning
from a secret mission beyond Gameroom when the Radio-Master picked up a garbled message from D2. The
only thing we heard before the white noise was gunfire
and screaming, after the screams died down the only
noise became something closing the station down.
When we got to Baal and reported what happened, we
were ordered not to mention the recordings. Take it
from me, I want to be off this station as soon as
Forgestriker can move but we need to get her ready to fly which will take some time after the battering she endured.”
The men who were able to get off their dirty beds rose
and staggered to the ward windows, their faces told a
story no words could explain; desolate and alone in
space they had ended up at a station nobody knew was
running after all these years; could things get worse?
Lonely souls and tortured bodies which ached for rest
crawled and hobbled to windows to view their new
home, at least until the ship could leave but nobody had
the answer to the question-when were they leaving?
Malcolm Hendricks stood before his friends and said, “I
know none of us want to be here and there are stories
about what happened-or may have happened- but for
now, we need to rely on ourselves and anything we can
find out. We’ll need to scout the ship and find out if
anything is salvageable and remember even a small part
may be helpful to us.”
Dennis Jacks called above the sounds of the ailing systems, “We don’t know who or what we are up against
here, so, I want three-man fire teams; I would like bigger groups but we are down to the bare minimum and
even this is stretching resources, lads. Timmy, you take
three two men and cover the section from levels 3 to 6,
Frank, your group can cover lower level 1 to 4 and I’ll
take a group up to level 7 and cover the top levels; if
anybody gets in trouble, try to get back here. We don’t
have the men or fire power for a battle on the station.”
Timmy led his troops down the dark corridor to the
right of the entrance to the station, “Eyes and ears open,
guys, this is enemy territory,” he whispered in the vocilator, “we don’t want to rouse them.”
Frank’s group took the left corridor and headed to their
designated sections, hoping to stay out of a fire-fight
and get back safe, but something had them on edge,
“Do you smell that?” he asked as they crossed an open
area of balcony and stopped to view their surroundings.
Si Thompson, former mortar crew man replied, “Yer,
like sea water.”
Rifleman Todd Marsh called to them, “Out here in
nowhere, and you get the odour of fish; something ain’t
going good, guys.”
DJ was leading his group up a shattered stairwell and
looking at the shell holes, “Guys, whoever was here had
been packing heavy artillery, these walls are made from
Terronium and designed to take the impact of a meteor
storm but look how the shell went through as if the wall
didn’t exist.”
Bob Holmes, the former recon specialist and hard man
of the section said, “DJ, these guys are not only packing
heavy, they’re heavy armoured too, see these marks on
the wall where they broke in, the shell has been torn off
by hand.”
Young foot soldier Jeff Killord asked timidly, “Who do
you think is here?”
DJ turned to the newbie and commented, “I don’t
know, but we’re up against some heavy guns and the the
advantage of territory is theirs, so keep ‘em’ peeled,
we’re going hunting.”
On Forgestriker, Malcolm and Surgeon Willisher were
deep in conversation.
Malcolm said, “How many of the
men are able to walk, Doc?”
Willisher replied, “At the moment, about five or six, the
others need the rest as they’re too seriously wounded to
contemplate moving.”
Walking around the ward and viewing his friends lying
in their blood, Malcolm said, “We need two men with
comms experience because our fire-teams need to be
able to connect to me at the hub, so I can find out what
is going on, can you release Brian Davies and Fortry
Morris?”
The surgeon glanced at the bed plan and replied with
sadness, “I can release Brian, but Morris died; the shell
fragment pierced his lung and he drowned, I realise this
isn’t a consolation but I couldn’t save him; even if we
were home and in a hospital.”
Malcolm sighed deep and said, “Thanks Doc, Brian
you’re with me.”
Brian Davies rose from the bed and dragged his body
out of the ward, his eyes kept moving from side to side
and up and down as he fidgeted nervously behind Hendricks, “Malcolm; is it true? Are we at D2?”
“I am sure you heard the chatter going on, yes we are,
but our men need your skills to survive on the station,
we have three teams searching the station and no way
for them to contact either me or each other as the white
noise is jamming the signals.”
Malcolm and Brian walked along the empty passages
leading to the hub, the silence became deafening as
though you were being stalked by an unseen but all-seeing foe, able to move as though the walls were water and
their element. They arrived at the hub to vie the core of
the station for the first time, “Holy crap, Malcolm, there
must have been a hell of a struggle here; look at the
corpses.”
In front of the door lay a pile of skeletons ravaged by
time until all that remained was parched bones and torn
uniforms.
Malcolm stopped and viewed the bodies, and said, “Yes,
a rear guard action to defend their most vital point and
to what end? They got over-whelmed by numbers in the
final fight and had to evacuate in a hurry.”
“If they had the fight going on outside, why didn’t the
load the self-destruct programme as they left?”
Malcolm rolled a body over and noted the rank insignia, “Here is your answer, Brian, the sequence needed
three keys and at least one of the officers is on this side
of the door.”
Malcolm and Brian stepped across the bodies and tried
to open the door but the fight had blown the circuits
and fried the controls. Not going to be beaten by an old
battle, Brian said, “If you can give me a helping hand, I
may get through the broken window and be able to free
the door from inside.”
Malcolm gave his friend a gentle push as he climbed
through the broken window frame, “Shit man!” he
called out as he rolled and stood up.
“What do you see, Brian?” Malcolm asked as he tried to
get a glance through the broken frame.
“The fighting may have been on your side of the door
but there is a hell of a lot of blood on this side; I’m not
sure what went down but the fight was nasty judging
from the body parts lying around, Malcolm.”
Pushing the bodies aside, Malcolm called across, “Can
you get to the door release catch, so we can try to get a
radio link with the fire-teams?”
Brian called back, “I can get to the panel and I’ll try to
find what works, ‘cos’ believe me, this is one hell of a
mess and I think we’ll be lucky to get anything without
a major fix up job.”
Malcolm shrugged his shoulders and sighed, “We need
to do what we can, I don’t like our guys walking around
blind and something tells me, we’re not alone.”
“I copy that, are you getting the tingles too?”
“Since we opened the hatches on our arrival, I find
something creepy about a dead station calling to you.”
On level 5, the search party had arrived at a cross junction but they were forced to halt their progress as the
doors had been sealed and whoever wanted them shut
had blown the panel, so the door couldn’t be opened,
“Okay, let’s double back to the next junction and work
our way across the section,” Timmy said with a sigh, “I
wish for once, we could go somewhere were we didn’t
need to watch our backs.”
The group turned to walk back the twenty yards to the
corridor and as they did, something smashed into the
other side of the door, “What the fuck is that?” Matt
Kenyon yelled,
“And how the hell is it surviving out
there?”
A scared Rick Coolfer said, “I don’t intend to stay long
enough to find out; I ain’t staying to fight the creature.”
From the other side of the door they heard a grating
sound like iron fillings on a steel plate, “Okay, if we get
back to the corridor behind us we can go around here,”
Timmy said, trying to keep the calm in the group.
“You didn’t answer the question, Timmy,” Rick replied.
“I can’t tell you what I don’t know, Rick,” Timmy commented.
Matt was becoming trigger-happy and said, “I thought
you said you had been here before, Timmy. If you don’t
remember what the creature is, let’s blow the thing to
hell and get all this over with.”
Timmy realised Matt was losing control and shouted to
him, “A lousy call, we shoot this one and who can say how many will learn of our presence; remember this is
their land and they can move around with ease.”
A shocked Matt replied, “I’m sorry, Timmy, getting our
asses kicked on Gameroom and then the wait in deep
space for the wait to be found, only to end up in hell. I
lost my mind.”
Timmy patted his friend on the shoulder and said,
“Matt, do you think I feel any different, when I found
out we had arrived at this station I almost cried. Now,
let’s try to find a way around.”
In the lower level, Frank, Si and Todd where searching
the ruined corridors for some sign of life, all they met
was a deathly silence and a foul odour, “Do you smell
that?” Frank whispered into the vocilator.
“Yeah, the odour of fish and the stink of rotting flesh,
enough to turn ya stomach,” Si replied.
Todd had taken the rear position and was keeping his
eyes sharp, suddenly he let off five rounds at something
but nothing hit the target.
Frank turned to Todd and said, “What did you see?”
A shaken Todd could only stammer, “Shh shh shadows
on the wall, no shapes but shadows.”
Frank whispered, “We’re on level 2, let’s find a way
around this area and try to get to level 3 to link with the
others, stay sharp, if they are here and I don’t doubt they
are; all the advantages are on their side.”
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