Battle for Proxima (7 page)

He turned to his right where Teresa stood patiently.

“Sergeant, you and 1
^st
Squad will stay and guard this area and act as a mobile reserve. You will have marines as backup, so if you’re needed they can stay behind for protection. I need you to provide overwatch and to monitor the drone. Can you get any more eyes down there?”

Teresa was evidently unimpressed at being left behind. “I have two more, I’ll see what I can do.”

Spartan looked back at the assembled Vanguard Marines. They stood in silence, awaiting their orders.

“Remember, once we are inside you will keep your weapons on safe, unless we are attacked. Killing a few more Zealots might make you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside, but it won’t help the war. We need hard intel, and we need it fast! Got that?”

A chorus of acknowledgements reverberated across the audio channel.

“Good, get into position and do a final check on your gear.”

The first squad moved a short distance away from where the charges had been set. The next stayed further back. Spartan looked over to Teresa, she was making a few adjustments to the drone. She turned and waved.

“Go, go, go!” he cried.

Sergeant Lovett hit the trigger and a single flash filled the corridor with smoke. Spartan felt the ground shake beneath him, but before he could adjust his footing, the additional blasts continued as the mining charges burnt their way through the floor. In seconds the hole was cut and the shaft itself was packed full of thick dust.

“Switch to infrared and thermals and get cutting. Fire team One, go!” shouted Spartan.

The first two jumped the relatively long distance into the newly created pit. It was much too far for a normal man to make safely, but the shock absorption of the Vanguard armour easily cushioned the blow. No sooner had they hit the floor than they were already hacking into the dirt.

“Sergeant Morato, the guards?” asked Spartan.

“One of them has left, the others are waiting. I don’t think they suspect direct action against them.”

“Lieutenant, we’re nearly through!” called Sergeant Lovett.

In the pit he tore out great chunks of dirt and rock. Before they knew it, the first two Vanguards were through the wall and pushing into the gap. The hole was a metre short of the tunnel, so they needed to duck before they dropped down into the main shaft.

“We’re in!” said Lovett.

“Take up positions and wait, I want four more before we attack.”

Spartan jumped in along with another Vanguard. As he hit the soil, he struggled to establish his orientation in the lighting conditions.

“Keep your lights off, move forward,” he said, this time more quietly.

They moved into the access tunnel, Lovett and Spartan took the lead position. Immediately behind them followed four more Vanguards, each of them covered in the dark grime and dirt of the tunnel. Spartan looked through his visor, spotting the flagged marker that showed the position of the room where the Zealots were stationed. It looked like the access shaft alongside the room. He pointed to the three nearest Vanguards, who portioned themselves along the wall, each facing it as though the wall itself was the enemy.

“They are behind this wall. It isn’t thick, one or two strikes should clear it. The rest of you will move out and secure the flanks. Stay with your buddies and watch for Biomechs. Ready?”

The nearest Vanguard nodded in agreement. Spartan pushed his armoured fists up to the wall and turned to check on the rest, they were ready.

“Sergeant Morato, any change?”

“Sir, one is missing, the rest are looking about. I think they’ve heard you.”

Spartan knew he had to make a decision, either they attacked or they aborted the mission. A delay would leave them exposed with limited movement underground.

“Go!” he shouted.

Pushing his fist forwards, he easily penetrated the wall and tore open a hole, almost a metre wide. No sooner had he created the gap, his thermal sensors showed movement inside. Two more strikes and he had weakened the structure sufficiently to smash through. Lumbering inside, he caught his foot and stumbled, his left knee dropping to the ground. Tapping the lighting switch on his shoulder, the lights flicked on. The Zealots, though blinded and surprised, drew their firearms and started shooting. They were ineffective and with a quick swipe, he was able to cut through the chest of the nearest before he had even stood up.

To the left, two of the Vanguards broke inside and started cutting and smashing any Zealots they could reach. At the end of the room two men entered, both swinging razor sharp halberds and rushing towards the Vanguards. One was cut down as an excavator blade smashed into his chest, but the second actually reached one of the marines. Lifting the weapon he swung it hard, the blade smashing into the hardened metal armour. It was a futile gesture and simply shattered upon impact. The Vanguard responded by removing the man’s head clean from his body with a quick horizontal slashing movement. It was violent and bloody, but in less than ten seconds only the Vanguards were standing, each of the Zealots now a bloody mess on the floor or walls.

“Good work people! Clear the area and watch for enemy reinforcements!”

“Sergeant Morato, we’re in. Move the drone ahead and scout for activity. 3
^rd
Squad, move up and link up with 2
^nd
Squad. I want a cordon of two hundred metres established in all directions.”

“Sir, the next room has an active data link running!” said Sergeant Lovett across the open communication line.

“Excellent, put one fire team in the room, get the rest of your units out and clear the corridors. If there’s intel down here, I want it!” he said, before connecting to the units back in the corridor.

“Sergeant, let Hobbs know what we’ve found. We need a tech team with full gear in the next five minutes. If this connection is live, it could be the first one we have found since the start of the war.”

“Already passed it on, the Captain says she is coming down with a security team and tech squad. ETA ten minutes.”

Spartan turned to Marcus, who was busy pushing one of the Zealots off his serrated digging blade.

“Great, she’s coming in,” said Spartan with a sardonic grin.

* * *

Admiral Jarvis marched into the small briefing room, flanked by two guards. As she moved inside, a group of officers stood smartly to attention. Most were dressed in the long dark coats of the Naval Intelligence staff, only General Rivers stood out as being different. Once she was inside the room, the guards left and closed the door behind her.

“Gentlemen, I take it you have news?” she asked, barely able to hide her anticipation.

One of the men in the long coats drew her attention. He wore no insignia, as was standard for the department, Even the Admiral was wary when around them. The world of intelligence and espionage was one of intrigue, spying and betrayal, areas she preferred to leave to them.

“We believe we have enough evidence to suggest the Victorious wasn’t simply captured by the enemy. From the data we have managed to extract from the AI hub, recovered by Admiral Churchill’s team, we obtained several Ident codes.”

“Ident codes?” asked General Rivers.

“They are unique codes for the command and control systems on our warships. They’re used to uniquely identify systems and ships in the Fleet, for communications and data transfer,” explained the Admiral.

“Indeed,” added the Intelligence Officer. “What is most interesting, is that all the codes we have decrypted correlate directly with traitor vessels or installations that turned against our forces during the initial uprising.”

“You’re suggesting a central source for controlling them?” asked the Admiral.

The officer shook his head in disagreement.

“Not quite. The communication is encrypted, but appears to be a sequence of triggers. It appears likely this information was more a timer for the actions of various groups and equipment.”

“A computerised starting pistol then?” asked the General.

“Essentially, yes, that is right. A series of data packets were sent to a large number of destinations, with timed sequences of orders to be carried out.”

“Interesting, I’m not entirely sure how this helps us though. I assume there is more?” she added.

The officer turned to one of his comrades and nodded. As he moved back, a woman in almost identical clothing stepped forward to speak.

“Admiral, what we have found is based upon the information retrieved from the damaged systems by Commander Anderson and his team on Prometheus. We used the data retrieved from the computer systems to establish a temporary link with the master signal. It didn’t last long, less than ten seconds, before it was re-sequenced and then cut off.”

“What did you find?” she asked suspiciously.

“The factories and research laboratories are being sent control orders directly from a single source. If we are correct, it is also being used to send signals to a very interesting set of ground installations through this System.”

“Let me guess, Prometheus and Kerberos?” asked General Rivers.

“Yes, specifically the Ministry of Defence on Yama City, the post now controlled by the Church of Echidna.”

“I thought the Church was part of the command structure, possibly the political wing of the insurgents.”

“That may well be, but the technology, the financing and strategy are being controlled from a remote source. If our findings are accurate, the Church is just one of the groups working for, or in, collaboration with this source.”

“Your team on Prometheus discovered something similar, did it not, General?”

“Yes, Admiral, according to Sergeant Spartan, the technicians told him the Prometheus compound received its control orders and direction from a source known simply as the Core. We assumed it was a ship or base somewhere in the Proxima System.”

“Not here,” interrupted the Intelligence Officer. “Our data shows the signal streams are coming directly from the Anomaly,” she said seriously.

The room was silent for a moment, as General Rivers and Admiral Jarvis considered the gravity of this important piece of information.

“If you are right, this means the entire Proxima uprising is being monitored, funded and controlled by parties in Alpha Centauri. How can they respond quickly enough with the time difference?” asked the General.

“It isn’t like that. The probe we sent was able to send a signal back through the Anomaly, before it was destroyed. If a signal can be sent though that point, then the enemy would have a delay of only eight hours between the Anomaly and Prime. That is easily enough time to organise major operations or to start new manufacturing tasks.”

“This would explain why they need the AI hubs in the System. A delay of roughly eight hours would make it impossible to remotely manage complicated systems such as warships.”

“That is our interpretation also. From the intelligence obtained by Commander Anderson on Prometheus, Agent Johnson on Kerberos and the data recovered by the 7
^th
Fleet, it seems clear that the enemy forces in this System are under the direct command of forces in Alpha Centauri. The actual running of the conflict requires a faster response and a more central form of leadership, that can rally citizens and organise violence on a city-based level.”

“Like the Church of Echidna and the Zealots?” asked General Rivers.

“Yes, it would appear so. If I am to understand that the Church and its resources are under the control of parties outside this System, then that will be both a problem and an opportunity. If we can cut off the forces from their high command, we may find these forces will become less well organised and vulnerable to being attacked piecemeal,” suggested Admiral Jarvis.

General Rivers shook his head in disagreement.

“No, I don’t think so, Admiral. It is understandable that the enemy would be receiving intelligence and strategy from Alpha Centauri. But I cannot believe for a moment that the forces in this sector are incapable of mounting an effective operation without their assistance.”

The female Intelligence Officer lifted her hand, indicating she had something to say.

“The communication from the Anomaly is not continuous, so we can conclude that their facilities, ships and forces in this System are to function independently of their command structure.”

Admiral Jarvis considered their comments, before moving to the computer system in the middle of the room. With a few hand gestures, she accessed the strategic map of the Proxima Centauri Star System and its eleven planets. She examined the dispositions of the colonies and the known enemy forces, before turning to her audience.

“Assuming this information is correct, then we have three simple choices if we want to end this war, and quickly. Believe me, a quick end is my top priority. My suggestions are as follows.”

 She brought up the location of the Anomaly. A short distance away was a blue icon, indicating the small task force already on its way to the location. Admiral Jarvis pointed at the location.

“Option one, we move directly to the Anomaly and take the fight to whoever is responsible. We take the bulk of the Fleet and hope that once through, we can isolate the headquarters of the enemy and completely destroy it. This, of course, still leaves us with the enemy forces here to contend with. We could then bring reinforcements back with us for a general offensive. Option number two, we concentrate our efforts on the enemy forces here and cut them off from their base of support in Alpha Centauri, by blockading the Anomaly. The last option is to ignore the Anomaly, using every ship at our disposal to destroy them once and for all. What do you think, General?”

General Rivers shook his head and turned away from the display.

“Well?” asked the Admiral impatiently.

“I appreciate you want to get this offensive over, trust me, so do I. I’m concerned at the level of intelligence we currently have. We know a little about their command and control, but nothing about the leadership, their motives and strategy and most importantly of all, their disposition. How many ships do they actually have? What about factories, like the one we now control on Prometheus?”