Though not the most famous, the CCS Invincible was a ship with a history that was unique to any other vessel in the Fleet. During the Great War she was the last battleship to engage another battleship in open battle. Most engagements were fought by carriers and cruisers, but by a chance encounter she had run into the rebel warship, the Redoubtable. This battle between two equals has been studied for generations, as to the power and the futility of putting two such behemoths against each other. After more than twenty hours of continuous battle and over twelve thousand casualties there was still no victor. Both vessels were quickly disabled and unable to leave the area and neither captain would surrender his vessel. It wasn’t until the arrival of the fourteen ships of the Kerberos Squadron that the battle could be decided. Five of those ships were also lost until the Redoubtable was finally destroyed.
The shattered but still operational hulk of the CCS Invincible and the remnants of the Kerberos Squadron were present at the signing of the armistice. The old ship is a relic of the Great War and is still moored at the Fleet Headquarters in Alpha Centauri. A visit to the ship is part of the required training for all naval cadets.
Ships of the Interstellar Navy
In the Combat Information Centre of the CCS Crusader it was decision time and the Admiral and her staff were getting nervous. As every minute passed the chances of a decisive and relatively bloodless conclusion slipped away. From inside the bustling room a dozen officers moved back and forth, updating the tactical display and co-ordinating actions between the numerous ships involved in the battle. Hundreds of officers both on the ground and aboard the myriad of vessels involved in the operation did their best to keep everything moving smoothly.
The ground assault on the smaller manmade stations had now been raging for over two hours and there were no signs that the rest of the transit stations would be falling anytime soon. Though much smaller than the massive Titan Naval Station, each was the home to hundreds or thousands of people and couldn’t be simply destroyed from orbit. The stations circled the planet of Prime at different altitudes with the most remote being hundreds of kilometres from the planet. They offered a variety of landing platforms, refineries, ports and shipyards for Prime. Though Titan Naval Station was massive, most of the inhabited areas were situated on the nearside of the moon that faced Prime. The bulk of the population was clustered around the civilian port and naval yard.
As expected, resistance had been heavy but the arrival of volunteer fighters from the planet had not been spotted. On several of the stations there were hundreds of additional fighters and though their skills were limited, they were easily able to hold off and keep the attacking marines busy. These last minute volunteers showed no regard for human life and they were happy to be used as human bombs or simply to draw the marines’ fire to expose their positions to the more experienced Zealot fighters. The latest reports put the attacking marines’ casualties now at over a hundred and as each minute went by more figures came in. The only black mark so far was that one shuttle with eighty-two civilians and twelve marines had been lost due to a suicide bomber making her way inside. The craft had almost reached the transport when her vest detonated. At least the shuttle hadn’t made it inside the transport or it could have easily caused many more casualties. The one piece of good news was that over eight hundred civilians had been rescued by the operations on the smaller Titan stations and were already being shipped by shuttlecraft to the waiting ships. It was bloody work but they appeared to be making progress.
Of even more of a serious concern to the Admiral, was that the cruiser wing had just moved into range of the Naval Station. This was a risky gambit as the battleship had lots of options available and the last thing she wanted was to have to slug it out with an almost impregnable vessel right next to the Station. If they could get her to move the assault would have been pulled off. She prayed the defenders would take the bait. On the tactical screen she watched the line of three cruisers moving in formation to the Station. The three cruisers were powerful ships and easily capable of taking on several similar sized vessels or even one of the stations on their own. A ship like the Victorious however was another matter. The only people capable of producing a vessel of that size and power were the shipyards and engineers of the Confederation Navy. She didn’t enjoy the irony of having to face a ship that had been built and designed to be almost impregnable for the very people that would now have to attack it.
“Captain Matthias, give me a sitrep,” she ordered.
“Affirmative, Admiral. We are twelve kilometres from the Station and so far have been ignored. There is massive electronic and radar jamming in the area and we are having a hard time scanning for power signatures and weapons. We can see their disposition though and it looked like we might be in luck,” he said.
General Rivers moved closer, examining the tactical display and then looked back at the Admiral.
“I don’t like it,” he said.
“Understood, Captain, take your ships in, just don’t get too close that you can’t leave. We are twelve minutes behind you. Good luck,” she added.
“Thank you, Admiral, out,” he said and the intercom went silent.
On the deck of the cruiser CCS Achilles, Captain Matthias watched the massive Titan Naval Station through the glass. At first glance it looked just like a moon, but on closer examination the huge jetties, gantries and cranes could be found on almost every section of the surface. Around the orbit of the moon were large numbers of ships though most were small freighters and transports. What he was more interested in were the two warships the heavy cruiser CCS Resolution and the battleship CCS Victorious. The first ship was still venting gasses. It looked like it had sustained heavy damage. Victorious however appeared completely unscathed.
“Engineering, I need everything you have on the warships, stat!” he shouted to the three officers on his right. The men were sitting in front of a large display that presented masses of data on both the cruiser wing and the enemy vessels.
The three cruisers were vessels of the Achilles class and had been in service for over forty years. Each carried thick armour down the flanks and batteries of railguns in sections along their lengths. They were also equipped with over a hundred point defence weapons designed to protect against torpedoes and missile impacts as well as to defend against small ships, boarding pods and landing craft.
“Sir, it appears both vessels are powered up and ready,” said the first man.
“Ready?” said the Captain to himself.
“Wait, I have movement on the Victorious, yes, she’s moving out of her berth,” he said excitedly.
Captain Matthias grabbed the intercom to inform the Fleet of the good news.
“Admiral, Admiral?” he asked, but there was no response.
“Captain, our communications are being jammed this close to the Station. We need to withdraw from their electronic counter measures range,” explained the second officer.
“No, we need to buy the Fleet time, we have to get the ship as far from the Station as possible. If we fight at this distance the marine landing craft won’t get within ten kilometres of the Station. Have you seen the point defence grid on that thing? She could wipe out every shuttle and boarding party we send in minutes,” he said.
The Captain moved back to the forward window of the bridge where he had a good view of the Station and the enemy. It was a dangerous mission but one he was sure his wing could achieve. He turned and gave the order.
“It’s time, send them in.”
He nodded and quickly pulled down the intercom and called over to the communications officers.
“Put me on a secure ship-to-ship channel with Ajax and Hector,” he said. The officer connected the vessels in seconds.
“Follow attack plan Charlie, maintain distance and engage Victorious. It is imperative that we keep clear of her broadsides. Stay at range and if possible aim for her engines, God speed to you all.”
In seconds, the three massive cruisers fired up their engines and moved into a column as they manoeuvred into position to orbit the battleship. Unlike the heavier ships, the cruisers were designed for much higher speeds and their manoeuvrability and acceleration was impressive. Within moments, the bright glow from their engines propelled them forwards and into action.
The vessels were huge but still only one quarter the size of the Victorious. Normally they would be commanding small patrols and even fleets but hunting down capital ships was a job for a mixed force that would include carriers, cruisers and gunboats.
As the three fast moving cruisers adjusted their course, a series of bright flashes along the bow of the old battleship indicated the start of the battle. The battleship was easily double the width of the cruisers and its heavy armoured prow hit batteries of weapon ports. From such a close range the first volley hit almost instantly, the solid projectiles tearing through the Achilles, the lead ship of the cruiser wing. As the heavy metal projectiles struck the starboard flank of the ship it rocked from the impact. Each shell was the size of a man and tore huge chunks from the side. A lesser ship would have been cut in half, but the thick, multi-layered armour plating absorbed at least some of the initial attack.
“Jesus!” Captain Matthias shouted as he saw a large number of red lights flashing on his displays.
Throughout the room the displays were flashing with all kinds of critical data. From his view on the bridge he could see great chunks of the ship torn off and drifting into space. A crack appeared in the glass and without even checking with the crew, the computer system brought down the blast shutters to prevent any chance of as breach.
“Damage report!” he barked.
Lieutenant Jones, the senior engineer, was stunned by the damage he could see on his screen and it took him a few seconds to compose himself.
“Sir, we’ve taken four hits to the lower weapons decks. I have breaches and decompression in twelve compartments, twenty-seven casualties already reported, more coming in. One battery is out of action.”
“Tactical!” shouted the Captain.
“Sir, in this position she is currently only able to bring her forward guns to bear. If we cross her T we can maximise our firepower and reduced potential damage,” said Lieutenant LeMarche.
“Why are they coming straight at us? If they simply presented their broadside they could fight us off with just a few volleys?” he shouted.
“Sir, You are assuming they have a competent crew, what if they can barely control the ship? It would explain their direct line attack and exposing their bow. If they keep going like this there is a chance we could cripple her.”
“A cruiser wing defeating a battleship, now that would be a first.” The Captain said to himself as he smiled.
As he considered the battle, another volley of smaller calibre shells peppered the hull of his cruiser. They were probably the point defence systems being directed to add fire. They were unable to penetrate the thick armour of the Achilles but they did give the Captain hope as to the skill and experience of his opponent.
“Cross their T and put a broadside down their throats!” he shouted the order as he held on firmly to the grab handles as another impact rocked the ship.
The CCS Achilles was the first ship in three formations and as she turned hard to her left she exposed her entire right flank to the approaching battleship. The Ajax and Hector moved into the same position, following the Achilles like a line of elephants holding each other’s tails. The formation had its benefits though. Just as the wooden tall ships of old, these modern ships of the line had the greatest number of weapons running along their length. This meant that they could do more damage firing sideways than head on. The current formation allowed all three ships to bring all their guns to bear on the enemy. There were other benefits too. The weapons all the vessels were using were solid shot electric railguns. This ammunition could easily penetrate the deck and afterdeck of even a fully armoured ship. By hitting the enemy from the front, the shot would punch through the bow and run a long way through the vessel. The return fire from the battleship however would only be able to strike the flanks of the cruisers and damage whatever lay between the sides of the ship.
As the Achilles reached an almost perfect ninety-degree angle from the Victorious she opened fire. Each gunport fired in sequence and the entire flank of the cruiser disappeared in a bright blast of venting plasma gas. The wave of heavy projectiles was accelerated out of the gunports and towards the closing enemy vessel. As the torrent of heavy shells slammed into the ancient battleship the other two cruisers added their own volleys. The first counterattack by the three ships sent over fifty heavy projectiles and over half struck exactly where they needed to.
“I’m detecting multiple impacts on their bow and port quarter, substantial damage to their forward guns I think, there’s certainly no sign of return fire,” said Lieutenant LeMarche.
“Excellent, that is more like it. How long till the next volley?” he asked.
“Thirty seconds, Captain,” came the immediate reply. “We could continue the volleys but it will leave us vulnerable while we recharge the main batteries,” he explained.
“No, I want our cruiser wing to turn to sequential fire, I want a continuous rain of metal on her, don’t give their crew time to think. If what I think is true, they are inexperienced and we need them to make sure they are unable to come up with a suitable plan. Keep poking and prodding them and she’ll stay with us,” he ordered.
Although a full volley or broadside was massively powerful, it did leave the ship with a full complement of guns that were unloaded and that meant each ship was unable to return fire for a good half a minute. That was enough time to suffer major damage or even loss of a ship. The sequential fire option was simple, each battery fired its weapons in turn so that by the time the last battery fired the first was recharged and ready to fire. From space it looked like each gun was taking it in turn to fire. Though it was much less effective in the short-term, it did mean a vessel could keep up firing on a ship without pausing. This type of fire was generally reserved for fighting against smaller vessels or when fighting multiple opponents, as it gave a higher rate of fire and the option to spit fire quickly and easily. This battle was different though, they needed to annoy the enemy so that they could draw her away from the Station.
As the Achilles’ weapon batteries reached their capacity the firing resumed and Captain Matthias watched in satisfaction as shot after shot blasted out into space and against the Victorious who was still moving towards them at ever increasing speed. The other cruisers began firing and the gulf between the four ships filled with the ultra high-speed projectiles. A small number of shells came back from the enemy, but it appeared Lieutenant LeMarche was correct and most of their forward guns were non-functioning and presumably destroyed.
Captain Matthias checked his tactical display noting that his cruiser wing had already moved two kilometres away from the Station and the battleship was still following. It was bloody work but it appeared the plan was working.
“Sir, if we don’t change course the Victorious will be on us in less than sixty seconds,” said Lieutenant LeMarche.
The Captain double-checked his screens before turning over to engineering.
“What is her status?” he barked.
“Sir, based on the number of guns inoperative on the front port and bow section I would suggest we have removed a quarter of her guns. She does have dorsal weapon batteries but they are not firing either. Maybe they do not have a full crew or her systems are not all working?” he replied.
“Interesting, we might have a chance here,” said LeMarche. “We could turn and draw her away. If we do that, we complete our objectives for the Fleet and the mission. We risk less but she could simply turn back. If we stand and return to volley fire we could cripple her and remove her from the fight completely,” he added.
As the gunfire continued and the ship rocked from the high-energy weapons the Captain considered the possibilities.
“I say we take the middle road. We fight for a little longer and see if we can cripple or slow her down enough to give us options. I see this as a golden opportunity. One way or another, Victorious will have to be dealt with. If not by us, then maybe one of our marine transports will have to contend with her guns. I will not have that. At the very least, we can hurt her before we leave. Reload the guns and resume volley fire. I think we have her attention now. It is about time we really hurt her!” he growled.
“Captain,” he nodded and began relaying the orders to the ships.
Captain Matthias turned back to his communications officer.
“Have you been able to make contact with the Admiral yet?” he asked.
“No, Captain, we are still too close to the Station.”
“How much further?” he demanded.
At this speed, another ten to eleven minutes, Sir,” he explained before turning back to the display.
A series of lights flashed across the bridge and panic set in with the engineering officers and tactical.
“Captain, we’ve got a problem!” cried Lieutenant LeMarche. “She’s accelerating towards Ajax!”
The mighty battleship was now only a short distance from the three cruisers and had altered course slightly towards the middle ship, Ajax. Volley fire from the cruisers now pounded her hull.
“Captain, my scans show her prow has been badly damaged though most of her weapon systems appear undamaged. She is far less damaged than our results suggested. Either she is unwilling or unable to use them. Wait, I’m detecting a power surge, she is running at over 120 per cent charge, she is going to fire a double broadside,” he added.
“Dear God!” shouted LeMarche, as he realised the battleship was about to unleash every weapon it carried. “They are not damaged, Captain. Instead of firing she’s been slowly topping up her weapon banks so she can fire both sides at once. There is a chance the surge could destroy her and us with her!” he shouted.
“A suicide attack? Are you sure? That old ship could easily fire a few doubles before taking damage!”
The communications officer tried to reach the other two cruisers to warn them to move to full power but it was too late. The battleship steamed through the three kilometre wide gap between Hector and Ajax, her right hull facing Ajax and her left Hector. Time seemed to slow as the officers watched in horror as the battleship positioned herself perfectly to attack two ships at the same time. There was a terrible flash as both of her flanks were covered in venting plasma. Every single weapon that still worked opened fire. Hundred of rounds smashed through the bow and bridge of the Hector. At least four entered the command centre, instantly killing the captain and his officers. The rest of the shots ploughed through the entire length of the ship, tearing through section after section. In less than thirty seconds the ship was left a burning hulk with hundreds of crew already rushing for the lifeboats. She was of no use to anybody anymore.
The Ajax fared only slightly better as her engines absorbed most of the weapons’ fire. The overwhelming barrage of metal tore the engines and fuel storage tanks apart, instantly leaving the vessel with nothing more than manoeuvring thrusters. Some of the rounds penetrated as far as the port batteries and set off a chain of explosions through the length of the ship. The fires were serious but the ship was still able to move and incredibly returned fire with a number of the surviving weapon batteries.
On board the Achilles Captain Matthias was stunned. In just seconds his wing had been reduced to only one functioning ship, one heavily damaged and one crippled. The Victorious was already slowing down and turning around to bring her alongside the damaged Ajax.
“Sir, we have only two decisions, either we turn and give assistance to Ajax or we go full burn, save the ship and warn the Fleet,” LeMarche said.
Captain Matthias said nothing; his attention focussed on the crippled Hector. He knew many of the officers and he couldn’t believe the damage she had sustained so quickly. As he watched, a bright green flash tore through the centre of the Hector that split the vessel in two.
“My God!” he cried, still unable to comprehend what had happened.
“Sir, we must decide, now!” LeMarche shouted, finally shocking him out of his stupor.
“Captain, I’m through to the Admiral, relaying tactical data now,” said the communications officer.
Captain Matthias stood up straight, his expression serious. He turned to LeMarche.
“They know the situation and the Victorious is away from the Station. Turn us around and engage her stern. I want this bastard’s engines and I want them now!” he shouted.
LeMarche moved to the tactical display and co-ordinated the battle between the remaining two ships as the Captain moved to the window, watching the battle in all its terrible glory.
The Ajax, though unable to escape was still quick and in less than twenty seconds her port side was facing the starboard side of the Victorious as the two ships faced off. Both vessels pounded each other with salvo after salvo, both taking damage from the massed batteries of railguns. The Achilles turned hard to her left and once again crossed the T of the mighty battleship. This time though they timed their salvos to hit slightly off centre so that they ran down the flanks of the ship, rather than impacting on the reinforced prow. The damage was impressive but as the debris drifted it was clear that the Victorious could take this kind of fire for hours. Small fires burned at points inside the outer structure but the massive vessel was intact and all of her broadside batteries were operational. As the broadsides continued, it quickly became clear that Ajax couldn’t take much more. Half of her guns were out of action and fires were running along her entire length.
“Sir, message from the Ajax, they have breaches in engineering, they are advising us to leave the area,” said the Lieutenant.
Captain Matthias swore, angry that he was about to lose his only other vessel and her huge compliment of crew. “Double charge the guns and bring us in close, I want to hit her close and hard!” he barked.
As the warship moved in closer to the battle the three ships disappeared in a cloud of projectiles and plasma gas.
“We need to move faster!” argued Admiral Jarvis as she watched the tactical display as her group of ships moved in towards the Titan Naval Station. The Fleet had almost completed the trip from where they had been assembled at Kerberos and would reach Prime shortly.
“Any more news on the Achilles? Is she still in the fight?” she asked.
“Unknown, Admiral, just static and interference. Whatever is going on we’ll find out in about thirty seconds,” answered Lieutenant Andrews, the tactical officer, as the Fleet moved ever closer.
The Fleet, headed by the mighty battlecruiser was heading directly for the Station and the Admiral could only hope that the cruisers had done enough to clear their way in. As they reached within one thousand kilometres their sensors were able to burn through the perimeter and provide some tactical data.
“We’re showing the Achilles and the Victorious are still fighting. Achilles is heavily damaged and venting fuel. Ajax is evacuating, Hector is gone. Can’t get through to Titan Naval Station yet, no signs of capital ships in the area though,” said Andrews.
As the Fleet moved ever closer, the flashes of battle were now visible from most of the ships. News of the loss of the Hector had spread through the rest of the Fleet like wildfire and some were undoubtedly concerned as to the ability of the CCS Crusader to hold off such a well renowned warship. They were already slowing as they reached just fifty kilometres from the Station.
“Admiral, the Victorious is changing course, she is heading our way. Achilles is burning,” said Andrews.
“It’s time,” she said to herself as she signalled to Lieutenant Nilsson to put her on with the Fleet.
“This is Admiral Jarvis. We are at our objective. The Station is clear but we are facing a fully operational Victorious. All group leaders begin your attack, she must be stopped, no matter the cost. Marines are clear to start your landings. Stay close to your escorts, this is going to be rough. I repeat, all offensive actions are authorised. Good luck,” she said in a calm voice.
As her orders spread through the Fleet, the bulk of the vessels turned to face the damaged battleship Victorious. Only the Santa Maria and Santa Cruz, with almost two thousand marines on board, and their group of four escort gunboats continued on their trajectory towards the Titan Naval Station. The gunboats were from the deck of the CCS Wasp and carried a dozen men and massive firepower. Today these four craft were configured for point defence. Each one carried additional defensive pods to protect against incoming projectiles and missiles. They pushed out in front of the Santa Maria.
The CCS Crusader, though new, had not been tested in battle before and this was her first opportunity to prove herself against the toughest opponent she could ever expect to face, a CCS battleship.
Spartan and Teresa were sitting towards the rear of their marine landing craft. It was cramped and much smaller than they expected. It carried a full platoon of marines inside its thick armoured structure as well as extra supplies, spare weapons and some heavy equipment. Everything a commando unit could need to establish a beachhead for the rest of the marines.
It was shaped like an angry wasp, its legs stuck up below and its power plants mounted high above the fuselage. Unlike the gunboats it was lightly armed with just defensive weapon mounts fitted around the body, each one designed to be operated by the marines onboard. Spartan and Teresa had been commandeered to control the right-hand door gun though the name was somewhat of a misnomer. The weapon was a twin -barrelled machinegun, an improved version of the same weapon used generations before in the ground wars on Earth. It might be low tech but it was reliable and functioned both on the ground and in the vacuum of space. The combat landing craft were unpressurised so only those in sealed suits could either crew or travel in them. The front of the craft was rounded and massively thick, apparently in tests it could sustain a single impact from a capital ship mounted railgun and against lighter weapons could easily absorb substantial fire over the short time it took to reach ground or ship based targets.
As they moved from the safety of the CCS Santa Maria they travelled past the massive ship from the left side and moved alongside as the rest of the assault craft joined them. As they moved into position, one of the gunboats came nearer, it was easily five times the size of the landing craft and bristled with weapons. Though the craft looked huge it was miniscule in comparison to the Santa Maria which in turn was dwarfed by the size of the battlecruiser CCS Crusader.
From their position they had a clear view of the ongoing battle of the two juggernauts, the Crusader and the Victorious. The two ships were several kilometres apart and bombarding each other with volley after volley. The great bulk, as well as the thick armour of each vessel, precluded any quick victory and as they hammered away at each other the small number of other craft circled around, trying to assist but without drawing too much attention from the wounded warship. After a dozen broadsides the ships looked no further from the end of their battle than when they started.
Slightly off to the right of the two titans the bright flashes continued from the wreck of the Hector at it continued to burn and tear itself apart. Though the ship was destroyed, scores of lifeboats continued to burst out from the damaged sections as the crew desperately tried to avoid the savage inferno of the dying cruiser.
The blazing hulk of Ajax drifted slowly towards the battle but with the damage it must have sustained it was going nowhere fast.
Seated ahead of Teresa and Spartan was the rest of their improvised squad of commandos, waiting for their landing. Each was fully equipped with their sealed suits, weapons and additional equipment. Marcus and Jesus were part of the next squad on the other side of the landing craft and like them, they had been assigned a door gun. Half of the marines were new recruits from the Santa Maria and though they were all keen to get stuck into action, they also looked nervous, really nervous.
The craft shook and the passengers would have rolled to the rear if it weren’t for the sturdy straps that kept each of them firmly in their positions. Another reason for the heavy-duty harnesses was that they kept the marines secure when travelling in gravity free space. Contrary to what a few of the recruits had thought, modern science had not solved the problem of artificial gravity other than some basic improvements, such as the rotating habitation sections on the capital ships.
Colonel West, in his own distinctive armour, moved along the loading section checking on each of the marines. He certainly looked the part, with his scarred but well cared for armour and a customised L48 rifle on his back.
“We are doing one pass of the docking area. It looks like they have units guarding all the main approaches and have set up anti-aircraft emplacements near the habitation domes. So we’re going to have to go in hot and stabilise the situation. First, the gunboats will move in and clear a path through the anti-aircraft mounts, we’ll follow and take the docking hub. The rest of the commando units will land at the key points along the hub and loading area. We have four landing craft bringing in our commando company. One landing craft will also bring in an engineering platoon to help with any problems we might face. Once we’re inside, our job is to head to the Command Centre so we can shut down the Station’s weapon system. Once captured, we need to hold the area and wait for reinforcements. With these down the blockade on Prime will be lifted. Even more importantly, it will allow us to land transports and shuttles to take off survivors. We are expecting anything up to four hundred thousand people here and who knows how many casualties. Until the rest arrive we can expect to be outnumbered by at least ten to one, so we must move fast and hard. Until the weapon systems are offline we can only get a small number of landing craft in. We can’t take the entire Station on our own, not even with five hundred could we do it in the time that we have. We have to get the guns offline so General Rivers can bring in the cavalry. Understood?” he asked.
“Now don’t try and bring civilians to the landing craft, we cannot take anybody without a sealed suit and that will probably just be us. Leave the rescue to the jarheads following us in. We do the fighting, the rest of the marines clear up, no exception!” he ordered.
The marines all nodded, some of them hitting their helmets with their ammunition clips. The Colonel then moved further to the front so he could check on their progress. The first wave of the assault consisting of four shuttles and two gunboats went ahead and were just a few kilometres from the Station. Inside their craft a red light started to flash, from their training Spartan knew it meant they were expecting hostile fire.
“Incoming!” shouted one of the commandos at the front over his headset.
A number of fist-sized holes appeared in the outer skin of the landing craft as a long burst of heavy weapons fire raked the craft. Streaks of projectiles blasted past the craft as they moved ever closer. Spartan ducked back, flinching from the incoming fire. The landing craft was heavily armoured as they were designed to get troops to the ground when under fire but these projectiles were substantial. They were obviously expecting trouble.
The nearest gunboat travelled a little further ahead and its weapon pods activated, each one sending clouds of tiny flechette rounds into space that tore the incoming fire to dust. If they had been in atmospheric flight the sounds of weapons fire would have been deafening. But in the silent vacuum of space though there was nothing, just the vibration of the weapons fitted to the ships and the continuous sparks and flashing of them blasting away.
More holes and sparks tore down the left side of the gunboat and then a massive blast tore away one of the thrusters and sent it drifting away from the shuttles.
“Did you see that?” Teresa shouted but her voice was wasted as the intercom system lowered the volume through the built in headsets.
Spartan nodded but he was feeling less confident about this assault by the minute. The small group of craft were less than a kilometre from the Station and as they turned a little to the left Spartan was granted the perfect view of their target. At first it looked like any other moon. It was large and every part of its surface covered in structures, buildings, gantries and shipyards. It served as a colony, naval base, military barracks and transportation hub. Large parts of the colony were burning, presumably from the initial uprising and suicide attacks he had heard about on the news channels. As he watched, he noticed a streak of yellow from several sections of the surface. He squinted, trying to work out what they were before realising they were moving and heading towards them. He turned to warn Teresa but it all happened too fast. As the cloud of incoming fire bounced off the shuttle, the gunboat swung back to rejoin the formation. More fire clattered around both craft and then with a mighty orange flash the gunboat disappeared in a fireball that showered the shuttle with debris and sparks. Spartan was torn from his harness and thrown across the deck against the wall. As soon as his helmet hit the wall he was knocked out cold and slid down to the floor.
Teresa unbuckled herself and crawled along the floor to the unconscious Spartan, the buffeting shuttle shaking her about. More projectiles struck the craft and as she reached out to him three bullets tore through the hull and ripped through her right arm. The velocity of the rounds spun her around and she reached out, grabbing the harness with her left arm.
Marcus spotted the trouble and with great difficulty managed to drag himself over to Teresa. He pulled a sealant pack from the wall and carefully managed to clamp it over the wounded area and the shattered armour. It automatically sealed the gaps and re-pressurised her suit.
“Medic!” he shouted before Teresa really started to feel the pain.