For millions of years the massive planet of Proxima Prime had been circled by over a hundred natural satellites. When the first colonists arrived they built several small outposts on the more habitable moons with the greatest on the moon Kronus, named after mighty Greek Titan. As the planet below was colonised a number of further manmade transit stations were built so that ships, people and materials could be moved freely to and from the planet.
Following their role in the Great War, each of the twelve stations was improved with extra ports, habitation sections, defences and garrisons. The moon of Kronus with its low gravity, thick atmosphere and abundance of raw materials became the Titan Naval Station. This was the largest and most powerful military and industrial site in the Proxima System and the most populated moon in the Confederation.
The Twelve Titans
Spartan, Jesus, Teresa, Marcus and a dozen other marines stood on the observation platform on the outer ring of the section. This section was separate to the rotating ring by a short shaft and airlock to the rest of the ship. The windows were small and polarised in case of flares but the view was still incredible. Along the one side were several chairs and even a small table, it was almost civilised. On the wall was a picture of the Santa Maria from her early days as a colony ship. There was a large hydroponic section towards the sterns that Spartan didn’t ever recall seeing on the current ship. It must have been removed to make way for more fuel or storage. From their slowly rotating position they had a panoramic view of the Fleet and it was a sight to behold. The view gave them three rotations a minute and at that speed they needed to concentrate on one thing at a time. It was easy to feel sick, even in space. The Santa Maria had been their home for some time that they had almost forgotten what anything else looked like. Unlike their own ship, they were now surrounded by ships originally built as weapons of war and the difference in their looks was marked. Unlike converted ships, the true warships were built with their fragile crew and fuel sections heavily armoured and protected. The other massive difference was use of space. On a military ship there was no space for luxuries and anywhere that had more than was required could be used for storage, extra armour or simply removed. Without the practicalities of looks of a commercial ship, the warships looked rough and almost insect like from the outside. Extra mounts, gantries and modifications were present on all of them and the older the ship usually the more modifications and changes had taken place. They all carried the symbol of the Interstellar Navy on their bows and each vessel was marked with its vessel code and name. Also present was the massive number of antennae that seemed to protrude from every single side of the ships. Communication was critical in space and no expense spared on the electronics and jamming equipment. Another key feature of the warships was their obsession with multiband radar systems. In space, it was necessary to monitor for objects of all sizes. At high speed an object the size of a melon could tear great holes through even a battleship. The quicker the Captain knew of danger, the quicker he could avoid it or turn the Point Defence System (PDS) against the threat. The PDS was part of every military ship and now many of the civilian vessels. It comprised a multiband radar installation and a series of low-tech kinetic weapon turrets. These were essentially modern versions of the machine guns and automatic cannons of the twentieth century. In space, they fired a cloud of solid shot in the direction of a threat and had a modest chance of destroying or damaging the target. They were cheap, reasonably effective and a requirement on any vessel travelling the troubles trade lanes of the Proxima Centauri System.
Normally they could just see a small number of the tiny escort cutters that circled all transports that travelled through the Confederation. Transports were vulnerable as they had minimal weapons and armour and carried large numbers of crew and marines. This made them very desirable targets. The cutters were always on the lookout for the small and hard to spot craft that could threaten so many lives. Times had changed and the view today was very different, it almost had the look of an epic painting from the Great War.
There hadn’t been much time but the Confederation had managed to assemble seventeen vessels including the Battlecruiser CCS Crusader, the escort carrier Wasp with her complement of eight heavily armed gunboats and shuttles, four cruisers and six marine transports that included their own Santa Maria. The Wasp was due for retirement and had been built to use in the war but arrived just a few months too late. Though she had seen long service, she had never been involved in any major action.
It wasn’t the most powerful fleet the System had ever seen but it certainly had access to substantial firepower and had the capacity to conduct a great variety of space and ground based operations. The group of six marine transports had taken on extra troops en route. They now had of over nine hundred marines per vessel, as well as a small number of elite Special Forces commandos, the best marines in the entire military. Each of the marine transports was a mirror of the Santa Maria, but they all had peculiarities in their engines and basic internal layout. On board, they carried the usual mixture of unarmoured shuttles, assault landing craft and heavily armoured troop transports. The landing craft were small but optimised for high-speed combat operations, whereas the transports were able to carry company-sized units directly into the fight. More vessels were on the way from Alpha Centauri and if they waited they could add another two battleships and an extra two-dozen warships. But it would be months before they arrived with the journey time of over three hundred days. Confed had demanded immediate action to retake the transit stations and Titan Naval Station. The marines had been given no more information, as the battle plan was being kept secret and known only to the senior commanders in the Fleet.
“What do you think the plan is?”
Spartan sighed, as he watched the ships moving outside.
“I doubt it will be anything fancy, Marcus. The Fleet has been assembled fast and we’re already on our way aren’t we? What worries me is that it doesn’t take a genius to work out that if you take something that belongs to somebody else they are gonna want it back. We can pussy foot about but I doubt they are stupid. No matter the plan they will be ready and this is gonna get messy, fast.”
“Wow, you’re a real optimist today you know that. I heard from one of the ensigns that we changed course nearly two days ago but he wouldn’t say to where. It looks like the Fleet is going somewhere, the question is where?” asked Teresa.
“Hmm, let me think, Titan Naval Station maybe?” said Jesus sarcastically.
The group stood in silence for a moment but Spartan was unusually quiet. He was staring out at the ships in the Fleet.
“What’s wrong?”
“Teresa, I just can’t believe that an underground movement that has been able to hold off an entire division of infantry on Proxima and then has taken over the orbital bases and stations, is going to be a push over. They obviously have a plan and I doubt it is to sit and wait for us.”
“From what I’ve seen on the news they’re blockading Prime and starving the cities and the military of aid. It’s not easy to tell exactly what’s happening, they’re stopping most broadcasts from the surface so we’re only getting part of the story,” Jesus added.
“What I don’t get though is why they even need external aid or support? They’re a goddamned planet, surely than can just carry on with or without anything else coming in,” Marcus said.
Corporal Williams, one of the marines from third platoon was nearby and heard the discussion. He called over to them.
“I know three guys that are in frontline down at the Bone Mill. The last I heard from them is that the Zealots have attacked a lot of the transport and are destroying or taking over much of the storage and production facilities. It isn’t far off a civil war down there and yet they are still fighting in that shit hole of a pit.”
“I didn’t know it had gone so quickly. How have they been able to turn things against us so fast?” asked Teresa, genuinely concerned.
Williams wandered over, checking over his shoulder when he reached them. “This goes nowhere else now, right?”
They all moved closer, keen to hear whatever gossip he’d uncovered.
“From what I’ve heard the trouble on Prime was an inside job. The Zealots have got support right up to the top, my source said it goes right to the Council!”
“Bullshit!”
“Shut the fuck up, man, I said to keep this to yourself. Look, Marcus, believe me or not, you have to admit it is pretty crazy that a bunch of religious fanatics have gone from blowing up the odd transport to a full military takeover of stations, cities and warships in just a few months. You know they have at least one battleship guarding Titan Naval Station, right? What if they’ve got more?”
“What if they turn the guns onto the Station?” Spartan asked.
“Yeah, man, you’re right. If they do that what can we do? We send in a hundred marines and they destroy the place. Whatever they’re planning it had better be good,” said Jesus.
In the Combat Information Centre (CIC) the senior commanders of the Fleet were assembled. The room was circular in shape and they were stood around a large table on which a three dimensional model of the Proxima System was displayed. At this distance, it showed all the planets and collections of moons and satellites. The first thing that was obvious was that Prime and her number of stations was the most significant part of the sector. Kerberos was a close second and that planet featured over a dozen inhabited moons and mining stations. There were certainly plenty of other planets and moons but none the equal of the jewel of the Confederation, Prime. In the corner the Admiral stood as a veritable army of intelligence chiefs, ships’ captains and marine commanders crowded in. The Admiral walked to the centre of the room, flanked by her two marine bodyguards.
“Good evening, I will keep this brief as we’ll have much preparation to do. We are seventeen hours from Proxima Prime and the situation remains fluid on both the transit stations, Titan Naval Station and on the planet’s surface. Before we go over the details of the plan we will examine the latest intelligence.” She signalled to Anderson.
“In the last twenty-four hours we have managed to get three vessels close enough to scan the area around Prime. What we have found is quite frankly shocking. All of the transit stations are either under enemy control or have been destroyed.” He paused for a moment as a murmur of surprise followed this news.
“Three of the stations, Titan’s 3, 4, and 10 were destroyed in a mixture of sabotage and suicide attacks. Casualty estimates from the three stations are in excess of two hundred thousand people. The cruiser Acropolis has been crippled and there is currently a major action on board. We assume the crew are attempting to fight off attempts to board her but for now she is dead in space. As for the Proxima System, the rest of the planets are stable and, though there have been some disturbances on some of the moons and stations, we have been able to calm things down. Out here in the Rim things are a little wild, but they always are and this is something we will deal with later.”
He pressed a button and the three dimensional model zoomed out to show the Confederation Systems. With a move of his hand, the model zoomed out further to show a series of star systems, a number of light years away.
“Due to the obvious communication delays we have no news on the new colonies at Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876 or Procyon. We have sent detailed information to them but it will not get there in time to help us nor could they send help even if they wanted to. We can only hope that they have not experienced the same devastation that we have.”
With another movement, he brought the star system of Alpha Centauri into view. Its two stars and scores of planets were a rich source of mineral to the Confederation as well as supporting most of the colony worlds and moons.
“We have received word from the forty-two colonies at Alpha Centauri that so far nothing untoward has happened. Military forces have been put on alert and it looks like we might be able to contain this to Prime and the stations. A fleet is being assembled and the 3 ^ rd and 4 ^ th Marine Regiments have been reactivated in case this goes any further. If, and this is a big if, we can contain this problem, we should be able to stop it right here. If for any reason the revolt spreads outside of Prime a general call to all reservists will go out and the Confederation will be placed on a war footing. Finally, Sol. As with our other distant colonies, we cannot get word to them anytime soon and have sent the same data packets as we sent to Procyon. In short, this immediate situation concerns the colonies in Proxima Centauri. These are all in range of both our forces and the insurgency.”
He pressed a few more keys and the map returned to the planets and its moons.
“Now, current figures show nine stations are occupied. The estimate for occupying forces is around fifty to a hundred insurgents per transit station, with at least five hundred clustered around the naval facilities and habitation zones at Titan Naval Station. This means a lowest estimate of around fifteen hundred of them on the stations alone. From this number we can see the movement must have inside support, they cannot have transported this many people without us noticing, that’s what Military Intelligence say anyway,” he said seriously.
With another sweep of his hand, the display zoomed down to the surface of the planet. “As for Prime we have a problem. Most communications to and from the planet have been blocked. The Acropolis was trying to collect data via direct data streams when she was hit by three suicide attacks from captured vessels. They were able to send us a large volume of encrypted data before being cut off. From what they sent we know that a large uprising has started in most of the smaller towns and agricultural areas. So far, the cities are under Confed control but there are reports of heavy fighting at the power plants, transport hubs and ports. All operations at the Bone Mill have been halted until the situation is resolved. For now those units are being redeployed to where they are needed most. Elements of the 7 ^ th and 12 ^ th Regiments are holding the area in case the insurgents try to take advantage of the situation,” he said finally.
As he stepped backed a man in a dark, flowing uniform devoid of any insignia, replaced him.
“I represent the logistical service on Prime and have details on the weapons and equipment that has been confirmed as used in the field.”
Though most there were not familiar with his garb the more experienced of the officers knew immediately he was from one of the Special Forces intelligence units on the planet.
“Firstly, the Zealots are fighting in much larger numbers than any of our estimates have shown. They are more ruthless than ever before. Even when attacking the primary polar power plant on Prime, they continued until all of them were killed. They attacked with eighty members and did not stop. They are well motivated and our estimates place their planet-side strength anywhere between four and twenty thousand. This figure does not include the unknown number at the Bone Mill. I don’t want to confirm or deny this, but there are estimates by field agents that enemy numbers could be five times this number,” he said calmly.
The mood in the room was electric. What had been expected to be a thousand people in total was turning into a full scale uprising of kind not seen since the Great War.
“Now, weapons, equipment and tactics. It is clear that the Zealots have been massing supplies and equipment for years. To date, we have come across everything from knives to military issue shotguns and rifles. They are using body armour, most of which is home produced and not effective against our L48 rifles. They are vastly more experienced in hand-to-hand combat and in every engagement where they have been close enough to use edged weapons they have overwhelmed our forces. They are competent with knives, maces and even swords. Some of their close quarter weapon designs are completely new to us. We have reports that these devices are quite capable of punching through the chest armour of a marine,” he added, followed by a long pause.
“Finally, vehicles. We have seen evidence of homegrown vehicles, mainly land based and a few aircraft in the north. In general, they seem to prefer ground combat but are capable of hijacking or capturing craft of all kinds. They have the knowledge and skills to repair, modify and operate everything from trains to warships. This suggests knowledge from within our existing security structures,” he said before stepping back.
“Before General Rivers explains our plans I would like a full update on the Fleet. Please keep this short as time is critical!” The Admiral ordered.
Lieutenant Erdeniz lay in his hospital bed gazing out of the windows. He knew they weren’t real, but the view was a direct feed from outside and it was good to see something other than the white walls of the room. He had only recently woken up and the drugs were still swirling inside his body, making him feel as though he had been drinking for the last twenty-four hours. As he lay there the door opened and in walked a captain, flanked by a guard. He marched up to the side of the bed and removed his hat.
“How are you feeling, son?” he asked.
Erdeniz tried to focus on the man but the drugs dulled his senses and it took a few seconds for him to be able to properly focus.
“Uh, um, I’m feeling much better, Sir,” he said with much effort.
“Good man. I can’t stay long, we’re waiting for information on the plan to come through from CIC. I was asked by the Admiral to tell you that she is very grateful for what you did.”
“I, I don’t understand,” came the weak reply.
“When you were attacked it was an attempt by the Zealots to take over the ship. Two of them tried to break into the Admiral’s quarters when you triggered the alarm. Over a dozen officers were already dead when you set it off. Another twenty seconds and the entire command staff would have gone too. You have our thanks, you have literally saved this crew and this vessel,” he said with a smile.
Erdeniz was still confused and didn’t fully understand what the man was saying but at least it didn’t sound like he’d done something bad.
“Now, get a little rest, I will send somebody along later to check on you. Good job!”
Returning his hat to his head he exited the room smartly and closed the door behind him.
General Rivers approached the waiting marines in the main hall of the Santa Maria.
“As Commander of the 6 ^ th Marine Regiment I have been given command of the ground element of the operation to retake control of all the stations around Prime.”
On the screen in front of the assembled marines he brought up the massive Titan Naval Station that was built into the largest of Prime’s moons.
“As you can see, the Station is well guarded by the Battleship Victorious and the crippled Resolution. We cannot even consider an operation to take the Station until these vessels have been eliminated.”
Hitting a button the image changed to an aerial view of the plan.
“The Fleet will split into three squadrons, the first two will move in and take control of the eight transit stations and hopefully draw some of the vessels away from Titan Naval Yard. Each of these stations is small, some are simple docks and shipyards, others are used to move civilian traffic. We need to take them all back and fast. By hitting them simultaneously, the enemy will not be able to reinforce each other. A single group will then move in to engage the battleship as the commando unit heads to the naval yard eliminating the main guns. Once the primary defences are down we will move in and launch a coordinated assault on the Station itself. This is where you come in.” He pointed to the assembled men and women.
“If we cannot stop this warship the entire operation will be called off. I cannot stress to you how important it is that we succeed. We have the best ships for this part of the mission and I have no doubt we will be successful. The real crux of the operation will rest on the regiment’s task of capturing Titan Naval Station. The Station is operating at one quarter normal gravity and looks like the toughest assignment I have seen in my years in the marines.”
“This unit has been tasked with the most dangerous mission of all and I will not hide from you the difficulties you face. I will say that it is a testament to your training and skill that this ship has been chosen to lead the attack. As the rest of the Fleet engages the enemy, you will spearhead an overwhelming assault on the Station itself. Each platoon has specific objectives including securing the dock and shipyards. Those who have completed the commando training will join the team that will move into the command areas and secure the guns prior to the arrival of the marine transports. The main assault cannot go ahead until the guns are silenced. Small landing craft are fast enough to hopefully make it but our larger transports will be turned to dust before they reach five kilometres from their objectives.”
The officer turned to the marines, noting their eagerness to get stuck in.
“I know your training has been cut short but from the reports I’ve seen you are in the best shape we could hope for. You are fit, equipped and ready to do your job. Under normal circumstances we would wait but this situation is spiralling out of control. We have support from the gunboats of Wasp and this should be enough to provide adequate cover to get inside. Your squad leaders have their specific plans, please get a few hours rest, contact your loved ones, do whatever you damned please just be in the shuttle bays and ready for combat operation in four hours. Good luck, marines!”
As the marines were dismissed, Spartan and his group moved to the side of the area. Have you checked the boards? Which group are we going in with?” he asked.
“No idea, come on, let’s find out!” Teresa said as she ran off to the end of the hall where a large screen showed the roster and the combat teams. There were dozens of them, each assigned certain equipment and shuttles for their missions.
“Yeah, here we are!” shouted Jesus.
“What is this?” Marcus looked less than impressed.
Spartan stepped in closer, reading the board. Next to their names and half of their platoon was the assignment to the Commando Support Group.
“Support Group? What kind of gay shit is this?”
“You can be such an idiot, Marcus!” Teresa was reading the board.
“Teresa is right, Marcus, the CSG is part of the Commando Team that is going for the hostages. The support group’s job is to provide fire support and assistance as required. This is the highest you can get on your first mission,” said Spartan.
“We’d better go and get ready then, we need to meet the Commando Team and go over the mission before we board.”
“Yeah,” added Jesus as he made his way to his quarters.
Spartan turned to head off but Teresa grabbed his shoulder, turning him back around. “How long do we have?” she asked placing a special emphasis on the word ‘we’.
Spartan looked up at the clock and back at her. “I think we can manage thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes, hmm,” she said with a grin. “Yeah, I think that will work!”
Pulling his arm Teresa dragged Spartan off down the corridor and towards her quarters, much to the amusement of the rest of the squad.
Over half of the Fleet had already moved off leaving the battlecruiser CCS Crusader, the Santa Maria and a small number of cruisers, destroyers and gunboats in reserve. This strike force was the main force designated for the attack on Titan Naval Station and though it looked formidable to Admiral Jarvis it was a fraction of what she wanted for such a risky operation. Along the gun decks of the warship the gun ports were all open and the weapon system of each ship was ready for action.
In the Combat Information Centre of the CCS Crusader, General Rivers and Admiral Jarvis poured over the latest report on the operation. Most of the officers had now gone and there were less than a dozen people in the room, all of which were working through screens of information and managing the large collection of vessels.
Lieutenant Nilsson, a dark brown haired officer with distinctive, green-flecked brown eyes turned from her communications desk.
“Admiral, I’m receiving urgent messages from Titan Naval Station, the insurgents are calling for assistance from their comrades. Shall I jam their communications?”
“Negative, we need to split them off as much as we can, let the message through.”
The Lieutenant turned back to her display and continued to monitor communication between the ships. On the main three-dimensional tactical map the Admiral followed the open stages of the operation. They were only four hours in and the first wave were in battle around half of the small stations.
“Reports from Bunker Hill say that all five transports have started their ground assault. So far they have taken thirty-seven casualties and now have control of two stations. Resistance is stronger than expected but they are making solid progress. Captain Jones estimates around three hours to capture the remainder of the stations.”
“Good, that is a very good start,” replied the Admiral. She turned and looked at the tactical display, watching the movement of the vessels in orbit.
“Any news on Titan Naval Station, any movement?”
Lieutenant Nilsson connected to her opposite numbers on the other vessels, quickly collating data. “Negative, no movement on the vessels guarding the Station.”
“As expected, they are waiting for our main strike.” The Admiral picked up the intercom. “Captain Matthias, are your ships ready?”
“Affirmative, Ajax, Hector and Achilles are in position and weapons batteries are charged and ready.”
“Good work, Captain, send in your cruiser wing to Titan Naval Station immediately, we need to let them think this is the main attack. Pray to the gods that they take the bait and engage your forces. Do not leave the area until you have taken fire. I know this is a big request but I need you to take enough fire to warrant a withdrawal, make it look good, Captain.”
There was a brief pause before the Captain of the cruiser group returned.
“Understood, Admiral, we will put on a good show. We won’t leave the area until they think they are winning.”
“God speed, Captain,” said the Admiral replacing the intercom. General Rivers turned to her.
“If they are ready when we jump in we’ll face their full numbers before we can bring our guns to bear. We need to be patient, every minute we can add to their return trip will give us just that bit of extra time to deal with Victorious.”
“I understand, General, and I am aware of the difficulty your troops are facing on the stations. We will move in as soon as I am confident we have a chance of breaking through.”
The massive battlecruiser rumbled and a series of vibrations rattled through the warship. General Rivers turned to Lieutenant Nilsson who was evidently concerned.
“It’s the forward gun batteries, they are charging up their capacitors prior to battle. We can’t charge up all the batteries at once, not even on this ship,” he said with a stern grin.
The Admiral moved past the General, facing the communications officer.
“Lieutenant Nilsson, can you put me on the battlegroup’s intercom, it is speech time,” she said with as much humour as she could muster in such a serious situation.
“This is Admiral Jarvis. Approximately one hour ago elements of our task force began the first stages in the operation to retake the transit stations orbiting Proxima Prime. Our battlegroup, spearheaded by Crusader, will start our attack in less than ninety minutes. All medical teams are to report to their sections, marines will prepare to repel boarders and all gunners please check and recheck your weapons. This will be the first capital ship engagement since the Great War and if it is anything like historic encounters, we can expect heavy damage and casualties on both sides. Admiral Jarvis, out.”
She replaced the intercom and turned back to the tactical map. The display showed two-dozen vessels in position near the outer ring of stations around the planet. Several faster colours indicated the gunboats from the carrier Wasp. It was their job to provide cover from any potential attacks by smaller vessels. She turned back to the General.
“If for any reason we are unable to regain control of the Station I have been given full authorisation to neutralise Titan Naval Station and every soul on it. Her face showed that this wasn’t an option she really wanted to consider.
“Destroy the Station, do we even have the firepower to do that?”
“I have asked our engineers to run simulations and all they can tell me is that if we can mass all of our firepower on the Station we can render it useless after about sixty minutes of continuous bombardment. We can’t do anything more than make it unsuitable for life, General.”
“Perhaps if I could get commandos onto the Station they could place a number of thermite plasma charges at key locations and do the same job. It won’t be pretty, Admiral, but if the Crusader is busy we might not have the luxury of turning all the guns on the Station. What about the hostages?”
“We are to rescue them of course, unless this puts the Fleet in a position whereby we cannot end this revolt. Either way the capture of Titan Naval Station will be resolved, one way or the other,” she said as she turned back to the displays.
Spartan and Teresa were both laid out and relaxed. Spartan held a bottle of water in one hand as Teresa sat looking out of the projection window at the Fleet. With their gun ports open the ships looked much rougher than normal, it was a sight she had not seen before. Between the capital ships the gunboats and shuttles moved back and forth, ferrying people and weapons prior to the battle. The Crusader was a sight to behold and she couldn’t imagine any vessel being able to stand up to her bulk. She was mesmerised by the rotating bands that ran the length of the ship, each one bristling with open ports and slowing the ship to fire in any direction from above or below or front port or stern. The weakest section in terms of firepower was the bow and stern where the warship was fitted with just a single weapon battery, much like a bow chaser on an old-fashioned tall ship.
“How can any ship stop the Crusader? Just look at her, Spartan,” she said as she stared at the majestic shape of the battlecruiser.
Spartan rolled over, looking out at the massive warship.
“She is impressive but from what I’ve been reading so is the Victorious. That old warship was actually involved in the Great War. She is responsible for the crippling of two other battleships and even survived a ramming by a cruiser. All of the advantages of the Crusader are going to be wasted in this battle. She has lighter armour, the same weapons and the only real improvement is the better engines. On paper I’d give the edge to Victorious,” he said with a hint of regret.
“You’re assuming that they even know how to operate the ship or have enough crew to man her.”
“True, but you’re also assuming that none of the crew had a hand in the takeover to start with. If that’s so then we could be about to attack an experienced and prepared battleship,” he said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I just hope the Intel guys have done their homework,” he sighed.
The two pulled on their fatigues in silence as they considered the current operation and the part they had yet to play. Their clothes were scattered around the berth and it took them a few minutes to get ready. Teresa moved closely to Spartan, looking carefully at his face.
“Don’t do anything stupid now, I would like to see you come back,” she said with a smile.
“No problem, I have absolutely no intention of letting some religious crazy get in my way, you just watch yourself. We have unfinished business!” he said as he swung himself out of the room and into the corridor.
It didn’t take long and they were soon moving down the main corridor where scores of other marines were collecting their gear and boarding their craft. Marcus and Jesus along with another eight marines were waiting in a group at the far right, separate to the rest of them. Spartan and Teresa moved over. Most of them were wearing their full PDS gear and the rest were in the process of fitting on their armour and checking their weapons for the hundredth time.
“We’re supposed to wait here for Colonel West. He’s leading the commando operation. You ever met the guy?” asked Marcus.
“Nope, never heard of him,” answered Teresa.
“You have now,” said a short, scrawny looking man who appeared behind Spartan.
The man stood with a group of a dozen similar looking men and one woman. Though they wore normal Personal Defence Suits, they had a slightly different camouflage pattern to the rest of the marines and their equipment was certainly older and well used. The officer stepped forward and shook each of their hands.
“This is my team, I take it you’ve gone over the mission briefing. Normally we wouldn’t take newbies on a first mission but our numbers are small and we need every man we can get. We will go in first, you’ll provide backup and a tactical reserve. This doesn’t mean you’ll be sitting back in the shuttles, you are just as important as the rest of the unit. Stay together and keep an eye on the guy next to you.” He looked around the group of fresh marines.
The tannoy system blared loudly across the ship.
“All units to your posts, we are loading the shuttles. I repeat, all to their station, it is not a drill!” came the order and it was repeated over and over.
“Let’s go!” The Colonel shouted as his team moved down the shaft and towards the waiting shuttles.
As they moved off Spartan lifted his hand and smacked his hand onto Teresa’s outstretched palm.
“Good luck!” she said.