Battle for Proxima (3 page)

“What about the mining shafts for the tram system?” asked Private Jenkins.

“Yeah, on the map there was supposed to be a series of tracks that go down to the lower levels for ore extraction.” He thought for a moment.

“Interesting. It won’t take us near the computing or communication gear but it could get us near to where the enemy were hiding. I like it. Okay, squad, double-time it back to the Landing Platform.”

He’d pushed hard for his new unit to be given this mission and it wouldn’t look good if the Vanguards found nothing but bodies on their first operation. Plenty of good officers in the battalion were keen to see the Vanguard armour dispersed amongst the units to provide additional firepower and engineer capabilities to all platoons. Though Spartan could see some merit in this idea, his personal opinion was that a dedicated assault unit with maximum firepower and armour would be able to go places and conduct missions that no other units could do. The defence of New Carlos had already shown what they could do when dropped directly into a combat zone. That battle alone had secured him a chance to prove this unit was worth keeping permanently.

Spartan joined the rearguard and made his way back through the corridor. The jumping movement of the lights bouncing from the walls gave him the similar sick feeling he’d experienced in zero-g training. As he emerged from the entrance, the two other squads were stood waiting. They all stood to attention.

“The mine entrance is down there, Sir,” said Private Jenkins, pointing at a barely visible ramp that led down to the left.

Spartan checked his mapping information, specifically the length and depth of the tunnels. According to the last reports on the mining operation, the tunnels were up to three kilometres long. Several had been closed down with seismic charges and had probably buried a large number of insurgents alive.

“Okay, our plan is changing slightly. We will take two squads into the mineshafts and perform a full sweep of the immediate area. Sergeant Keller, it is imperative that your 3rd Squad stays here and maintains contact with headquarters. You are all that stands between us, and the surface. You have to ensure our rearguard is kept clear and ready for evacuation,” he said and then turned to Sergeants Morato and Lovett.

“You two will come with me, two squads will give us enough to cover the ground. We’ll redeploy our strength when we see what the situation in there is. Understood?”

Both sergeants nodded and turned to check on their men. Spartan was starting to feel the pressure of the mission and the need for results. A lot of resources had been expended getting his platoon here, and a body count of a couple of dozen Biomechs wouldn’t do it. The mining shafts were risky. They were long and contained a myriad of small rooms and passages cut into their walls. The upside was, that if there was anything to be learned about what had been going on here, he was likely to find it there.

“Ready?” he called.

With a nod from his two sergeants, he gave the signal to move. The twenty-four marines moved off two abreast in a snaking column. It was a mighty force. Spartan just hoped they would get to prove their worth as quickly as possible. He joined them, making careful progress past the metal and cables that lay strewn about. The Landing Platform soon disappeared to be replaced by a massively wide tunnel entrance with two sets of railways tracks leading off into the darkness.

“They used to drag the ore out through here then,” said one of Teresa’s squad.

Spartan said nothing, he just kept going forward and checking his scanner, sensors and thermal imaging for any signs of life. The displays in his suit showed the warm shape inside the Vanguard armour of the marines all around him, but everything else was cold and dark. The rest of the marines stayed quiet, it took several minutes before they reached a large open area that looked like a hollowed-out hall.

“What is this place? It isn’t on our plan.”

“Lieutenant, I think this is a rest and passing area. Look,” said Sergeant Lovett as he moved along the rail tracks to where a set of points diverted away to the side.

“Sir, over here!” called out one of the privates.

“What is it?”

The rest of the marines immediately fanned out to watch the front and rear of their position as they checked the area.

“Well, Sir, there are smaller tunnels breaking out from the sides. See, like this one.” He pointed to a dark opening about three metres wide and tall.

Spartan looked inside and moved his remote beams to light it. The tunnel went on as far as the beams could show. The thermal sensors on his suit picked up a number of blooms.

“Anybody else getting this signal? I’m showing seven sources around us, each of them inside the tunnels and about thirty metres in.”

“I’m getting the same, it’s taking the sensors a few minutes to work their way through the soil and moisture,” replied Sergeant Lovett.

“Are they moving?” asked Spartan.

“I don’t think so, but there’s something strange.”

“How so?”

“First of all, we normally get stronger readings from the Biomechs. These looks closer to human.”

“Zealots?” asked Spartan with clenched teeth.

“Maybe, or it could be prisoners. You did say there might be some down here.”

“True, either way we need to be sure,” he said, turning back around to face the rest of the two squads.

“We have potential friendlies in the area. I want one fire team from each squad to stay back and provide a defensive cordon in this open space. The rest will enter the tunnels and investigate. If you hit trouble put down fire and withdraw back here. Under no circumstances are you to push ahead if you encounter resistance! Understood?”

They nodded in agreement and started positioning themselves at the entrances to the tunnels.

“Remember, take it slow and avoid trouble. Good luck!”

Spartan wanted to be first in, but as he moved he felt something holding him back. It was Sergeant Morato with her armoured hand clamped to his shoulder.

“Where do you think you’re going, Sir?” she asked.

Even in this darkness he could make out her smile through her thickened glass visor. Only a small part was visible as the glass section was just a ribbon across the front of the metal-domed headpiece.

“Where do you think?”

“I don’t think so, Spartan. You’ve already broken regs. We need you here to organise the team. We’ve all trained for this one, just sit back and wait for the medals,” she said as she blew him a kiss from inside the armour.

Spartan looked about, concerned the other marines would notice her actions. Either they hadn’t seen, or they had chosen to pretend not to. Either way Spartan was annoyed, he was a fighter, not a planner and standing about waiting was not the way he liked to fight.

“Let’s go, people! Remember the plan!” Teresa ordered.

Spartan watched as sixteen of the Vanguards stepped inside the narrow tunnel complex, in groups of four. He knew the fire teams were easily able to take care of themselves in the narrow confines underground, but it still left him uneasy being unable to help.

“Sir, anything you want us to do?”

Spartan looked back to the eight marines who were stood waiting.

“Form up in a circle and watch your scanners. In my experience, they always strike when our numbers are smallest.”

The marines, some who were already watching the allocated zones, formed up in a loose and widely space formation, with their weapons facing outwards. Spartan stood in the middle and monitored the movement of the four fire teams making their way into the tunnels. He had already requested the Vanguards be outfitted with cameras and displays in the suits, so the commanders could monitor the movement and actions of other team members. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon, but right now he would have really appreciated it.

“Spartan, we found prisoners!” came the Teresa’s excited voice over the intercom.

Spartan smiled to himself, if anybody was going to find them, he knew she would be the first.

“This area is massive, they must have carved it out with explosives. We are counting thirty people, mostly men and four, maybe five women. We’re leading them out to you now.”

“Excellent, what’s their condition?”

“Not good, their clothes are in rags and they look like they’ve been on rations for a long time...wait...there’s something else...”

Spartan’s heart dropped, in his experience the unknown was rarely good.

“There are bodies here at the end of the room, easily fifty of them. There’s a small amount of stores. They wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”

“Okay, get the survivors back here and bring your team.”

“Roger, we’re coming now.”

Spartan looked at his sensors, tracking the Teresa and her marines as they made their way back. That still left a dozen marines out in the tunnels.

“Sergeant Keller, are you getting this?”

“Yes, Sir. I’ve been relaying your information to the surface. Command is sending in two evac birds for the wounded. Do you need assistance?”

“Negative, we’re clear here.”

“Wait, Sir, there’s something not right. I’m picking up movement from the tunnel parallel to your position.”

“Which tunnel? I’m not showing anything in that area.”

“Underneath you, Sir. I’m picking up massive seismic readings two hundred metres below you, and rising!”

“Seismic? An earthquake?”

“No, it’s alive and moving up, I suggest in tunnels or shafts towards your position. They are moving fast!”

“Okay, Sergeant, stand your ground. Radio it in,” he said, before turning his intercom onto the open channel.

“All units fall back to the central shaft immediately. We are expecting trouble! Move it!”

On his scanner the IFF signals of his marines showed them moving slowly through the narrow shafts. From the side the civilians staggered out, covering their eyes with their hands. There was no light down there, the bright lamps of the Vanguards must have been blinding for them.

“Sir, they are one hundred metres away, you need to hurry!” came an urgent transmission from Lovett.

“Go! All units fall back to the Landing Platform! Take the civilians and move!”

Most of the marines were out and moving fast alongside the confused and obviously terrified people. Only two marines remained, Sergeant Morato and Private Alsop.

“Sergeant, where are you!” he roared across the intercom.

“We’re coming, part of the tunnel collapsed, we’re taking a diversion. ETA, two minutes. What’s the problem?”

Spartan felt the ground shake slightly and panned his searchlights throughout the tunnel. The last marines were now over two hundred metres away and moving fast. The ground was now shaking strongly. Then he saw them. Several mounds that looked like molehills appeared in the dusty ground, followed by heads and hands. As they lifted themselves out, he knew instantly that they were Biomechs, the artificial creatures used by the Zealots in their unholy crusade against the Confederacy.

“Oh...shit!” he shouted. He quickly lowered both of his arms, aiming his weapons at the horde.

“Teresa, get your ass here now!”

CHAPTER TWO

Unmanned Autonomous Vehicles have a long history of service with the military, dating back to their use on Old Earth. Of their many advantages, are their smaller size and removal of components required for human survival. They can accelerate faster and can carry more fuel and weapons than a comparative manned craft. The main disadvantages come from the reliance upon computers and technology, both of which can be impaired, damaged or destroyed with ship direct fire energy defences.

 
Robots in Space

Most of the major warships of the Confederate Fleet were circling the gas giant of Khimaira. Until recently the vessels had been split up into small task forces and divisions, so that they could conduct minor operations through the sector. The change of strategy, initiated by Admiral Jarvis, had concentrated the bulk of the surviving ships into one place. There were over thirty heavy warships that included cruisers, frigates and carriers, as well as more than twenty smaller destroyers and cutters. Each of the massive vessels coasted in orbit, with scores of fighters moving at a distance to guard the ships. A force of this size and power was capable of striking at any single target in the Proxima System with overwhelming force and firepower. The additional military transports carried soldiers, marines and heavy equipment suitable for ground attack.

The capital ships had a blunt, sinister look to them, their slab shaped fronts and rotating sections providing artificial gravity. Many companies had worked for years on complex engineering solutions to the problems of gravity on ships. In hundreds of years of spaceflight, nothing had evolved enough to be remotely useful in the ever-changing conditions, velocity and acceleration of military vessels. For now, the idea of being able to walk about any part of a ship was sheer fantasy. The ships lacked the sleek shapes used by some of the civilian vessels, but these were the workhorses of the Navy and their designs were purely functional.

The great hulk of the recently refitted and repaired battlecruiser, CCS Crusader, was at the heart of the task force. This warship had survived her first encounter with a battleship months before, it was still being repaired in orbit. Next to the Crusader was the similarly massive shape of the CCS Wasp, a light carrier and a mighty vessel in its own right. Since the arrival of the 7
^th
Fleet, the force had been increased by the addition of six powerful ships. The first was the assault cruiser CCS Royal Oak. This was a specially modified conventional cruiser, with additional space put aside for troops transporters and torpedo launchers. There were also four armoured cruisers plus the jewel of the 7
^th
fleet, the CCS Ark Royal. Named after many famous British warships, she was a type of assault carrier. Larger than the CCS Wasp, she combined a bigger flight group with heavier armour and more weapons. This gave her the survivability of an armoured cruiser with more fighters and gunboats than a light carrier. A myriad of heavy frigates moved around these mighty vessels. While smaller than cruisers, were easily capable of taking on a larger ship when used in groups of two or three. They carried much smaller crews, usually around two hundred per ship. Three massive Army transports and a single Marine transport, the CCS Santa Maria, huddled together protected by half a dozen frigates and several wings of fighters. It was a host any Admiral would be proud of.