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Siege of Titan (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 1)

Page 21

by Michael G. Thomas


  * * *

  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.

 

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