Battle for Proxima

by Michael G. Thomas

  “They don’t have much in the way of naval vessels, other than half a dozen defected ships plus any civilian ships they have pressed into service. Can they force our vessels to leave?” asked General Rivers.

  “At the moment, no. At least, not without suffering significant losses against our ships. But with substantial air cover over our bases, they can make it almost impossible for us to land forces safely without a major offensive being initiated. We would need missile strikes against their command centres and defence facilities, before a landing could be attempted. Even then, the potential losses could be significant.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Blake looked to the General and back to Admiral Jarvis.

  “What about the rest of our ground bases through the sector? Is it specifically this one base or can we expect the same through the entire Proxima System?” he asked.

  Admiral Jarvis zoomed out on the strategic display so that all the planets in the System, as well as the Rim, were shown on the same screen. Green dots lit up to indicate the location of friendly bases. Most of them showed up on the major planets but over twenty lit up on the stations and platforms dotted about.

  “A good question, we need an immediate reassessment of our bases and fortresses. If this is a prelude to an offensive, we will have to hit them hard and fast before they are organised,” said the Admiral, who then turned and walked to the communication desk where Lieutenant Nilsson sat.

  “Lieutenant,” she barked.

  Nilsson turned around quickly, her headset almost falling off.

  “Admiral?”

  “Send out a Priority One signal to all Confed bases in the Proxima Sector. They are to move to Code Alpha status, they can expect attacks at any moment. I want a full report on their status within the hour!”

  Lieutenant Nilsson nodded and moved back to her console.

  “If this is the prelude to an all out attack on our bases, we may have a problem,” Admiral Jarvis said to General Rivers.

  “Don’t we already have an evacuation plan in operation for just this kind of situation?” asked Blake.

  “Indeed we do. Every base, where possible, has been outfitted with enough aircraft to launch an immediate evacuation. Code Alpha is the signal to expect overwhelming force where an evacuation will prove likely. Kerberos has a small number of ships still in orbit and can send shuttles if needed. The problem is the air defences. If they want to deny us the ability to land on the surface, they can. Our only option to shoot our way in and that will kick this thing off again,” explained General Rivers.

  “If you ask me, Sir, I’d say it’s started again, already.”

  “True,” replied General Rivers, before turning his attention back to the Admiral.

  “What about the Anomaly?”

  “The Furious Battlegroup, based around Furious and her cruiser group, should arrive there in less than three days,” said the Admiral, checking the display. “According to the probe we sent, the route seems stable, though how we have not detected it before I will never know. It is surrounded by clouds which our sensors have a very difficult time penetrating. It is either natural, which I would be very surprised about, or it has been constructed somehow. Either way, it is the single most important piece of real estate in the sector. The Battlegroup hasn’t been detected yet, but when it does you can guarantee the enemy will not be happy!” she said in a sombre tone.

  “Wait a minute, isn’t it true that their own vessels have been using the route for some time?” asked Blake.

  General Rivers nodded in agreement. “It’s true, we detected several vessels making their way to the Anomaly after the liberation of the prison on Prometheus. What they have been doing though, is anybody’s guess.”

  “Admiral, when they spot those ships, I would be surprised if they didn’t recommence combat operations. Is the Fleet ready?” he asked.

  “We are equipped, trained and ready to conduct full scale operations in the sector, finally,” she said with a forced smile. “Our forces might appear thin throughout the sector, but this time we have a full Confed Fleet, with fighter and frigate cover waiting right here, Colonel!” She pointed to the metal floor beneath her feet.

  “On top of this, we have three reconstituted reserve transports at Prometheus that can carry two battalions of infantry each. They are massive ships and will allow us to move large numbers of combat troops to wherever they are needed. Even better, the War Barge Vengeance has been repaired sufficiently for her to sail with the transports.”

  She moved the map out to show the entire sector, then in to a closer view of the two most important planets in Proxima.

  “We have two taskforces of four ships each at Kerberos and Prime, both are involved in resupply operations. They are well supported by frigates and are supplying us with a constant stream of intelligence. Prime has the Santa Cruz in orbit along with a good number of marines. Kerberos has an Army transport plus escorts doing the same, but with the problems on the ground, they are obviously pulling back.”

  The three stood quietly, examining the map and the disposition of their space and ground forces through the sector. Most of the ground troops were either on board ships or waiting on the stations orbiting the planet Prometheus for their orders. It was clear that the Fleet was ready and that the great struggle for the System would be taking place very soon.

  “Gentleman, whatever is happening on the ground, I think it is safe to say that the start of our reconquest will be taking place in a matter of days. Please check back with your units and ensure they are on standby and ready for full-scale combat operations.”

  Both the General and Colonel Blake saluted and moved to attend their duties. Admiral Jarvis turned, looking out through the virtual windows at her Fleet.

  “Enslavement of our worlds and biomechanical devices on our ships. This cannot continue, I will not allow a single further colony to fall, no matter the cost,” she said quietly, but firmly to herself.

  * * *

  Spartan stood patiently as the ground continued to shake, yet more of the creatures dragged themselves up, from what must have been scores of tiny tunnels buried deep underground.

  “No wonder the sensors couldn’t find the bastards!” he snarled to himself. His arms were pushed forward with his L48 rifles armed and ready.

  “Teresa, where the hell are you?” he shouted through the intercom.

  There wasn’t time to wait for a reply. The first of the Biomechs had already spotted him and were surging forward.

  “All units, we have hostiles in the main shaft and moving to your position. Prepare for an assault!” he called as he pulled the triggers.

  The flashes from the guns created dark shadows on the walls as the enemy exploded and scattered at the gunfire. With four weapons firing in short bursts, he was able to lay down substantial fire. Yet even more Biomechs appeared from the ground. Something moved to the side and his instincts told him to move. It was in the nick of time, as two of the creatures erupted from the loose soil and jumped at him. Staggering to the side he swung his right arm out and poured a long burst into the two Biomechs. He swung the arms in front again and was stunned by the number of the enemy, they must now number over fifty, and still more were climbing from the ground.

  “Teresa!” he shouted through the intercom while taking aim. He almost pulled the trigger when he saw a dull yellow glow. A number of the creatures turned to face the direction of the light as a great deluge of gunfire shredded them. From one of the side entrances burst two Vanguards. As they stepped into the open, they continued firing, both of them putting burst after burst in the horde.

  Spartan moved forward, taking one careful step at a time and continuing to shoot with both arms. According to his ammunition display he was already halfway through his ammunition. From experience, he knew he could do with at least double the ammunition he was carrying. Teresa stomped towards him, two of the Biomechs hanging from her armour as Private Alsop tried to keep up. The weight of the two creatures managed t
o pull Teresa off to the side where she crashed into the soil along the wall. Spartan managed to reach her and helped straighten her up, but more creatures jumped onto their armour.

  “You okay?” asked Spartan.

  “Yeah, come on, let’s get out of this dump!” she said laughing.

  They pushed back swinging their mechanical arms, quickly slicing or crushing the enemy before turning their guns on the closest. Alsop dropped down onto his face as several more creatures leapt onto him. They were ripping cables and fittings from his suit. He started to shout, panicking as his suit was being shredded.

  Spartan and Teresa jumped down next to him and struck the creatures. One was cut cleanly in half, Teresa continued shooting at the rest. Spartan reached forward and tugged at his damaged armoured suit.

  “Alsop, you okay?”

  “No, Sir, most of my systems are down and I’m losing power.”

  “Can you move?” Teresa shouted as she continued to fire.

  “Just my arms, they must have cut the links to my legs,” he said, the tone of panic in his voice starting to become more serious.

  “Teresa, cover us, I’ll get him back!”

  Spartan leaned in and grabbed the armoured suit in both arms. With a tug he freed the metal from the dirt and started to drag him back through the tunnel. They made slow progress. Teresa stayed a short distance behind them, trying to hold back the tide.

  “Spartan, I’m down to one fifty rounds,” she said, trying to keep calm.

  “Shit!”

  “Lieutenant, just go, if you stay we’ll all die!” cried Alsop.

  “Shut your mouth, marine, and start shooting!”

  He clearly had no interest in leaving any of his marines behind. With a quick twist, he was able to turn Alsop around so that he faced backwards. His legs were out of commission, but his arms and weapons were still functional. As Spartan dragged him back, the Private turned his guns on the horde who were trying desperately to overwhelm them. Spartan glanced back, noting they were now halfway to the bottom of the ramp leading to the Landing Platform.

  “Sergeant Lovett, what is your status?” he asked, panting from the exertions of dragging the man and fighting.

  “Lieutenant, we’ve repelled a significant assault on our position. We’re holding but our ammunition won’t last forever!”

  “Understood. Send one fire team here to assist. I have a Vanguard damaged. Call HQ and get a resupply bird and sentry units down here. We aren’t leaving until we’ve completed our mission.”

  “Already done, Sir, a rescue bird and evac team for the civvies is already en route. ETA sixteen minutes.”

  “Good work, Sergeant. Out.”

  Spartan continued pulling. Teresa managed to stagger back and placed one arm on the Private’s suit to help drag him.

  “Your guns?” asked Spartan.

  “They’re both dry.”

  “Typical, you’re almost wearing yourself out too fast!” he laughed as he fired several more bursts.

  “Funny, I was going to say the same!” He couldn’t quite see her face, but could feel the laughter in her tone.

  As they moved, Spartan noted on his tactical display that one of the fire teams was closing. They could be no further than twenty metres away. He started to turn to check, just as a group of five Biomechs dropped from the ceiling directly in front of him. The first he shredded with his rifles, but the other four leapt directly onto his suit and started stabbing and hacking with crude metal weapons.

  “Bloody hell!” shouted Spartan. He waved his arms and managed to hit one of them. It knocked the creature to the ground, where it was finished off by a savage kick from Teresa’s armoured metal foot.

  The remaining three managed to hang on tightly and continued striking his visor, even managing to crack the side. More blows rained down and Spartan started to flail about. As he struggled, one of them lifted and up and was thrown several metres, followed by a cloud of flesh from the other two. Marcus and three of his marines fanned out around the group, proceeding to pour a devastating avalanche of shells into the remaining enemy. Either their numbers were dropping, or they’d decided to retreat. The end result was the same as and the shaft became quiet. It was as if nothing had ever actually happened down there.

  “Spartan, I know we say we never leave a marine behind, but this is ridiculous. You could at least try and get out next time!” laughed Marcus, helping Spartan to stand up.

  “Nice, give us a hand, we need to get Alsop back to the surface. Get your team to return him and escort the survivors to the LZ.”

  “What about the rest of us?”

  “We have a job to do. They are still down here and, apart from the civvies, we’ve obtained no useful intelligence on what was actually going on in this place. For starters, I want to know who the hell is in charge!”

  They started to make their way back along the tunnel. In less than two minutes, they reached the bottom of the circular ramp leading back to the Platform. Two more Vanguards came down to assist, one of them carried a small trailer with several metal units on top.

  “Sir, the first landing craft has arrived. They’ve brought a rescue party from Charlie Company. Their CO, Captain Miranda Hobbs, wants to see you.”

  “Hobbs?” asked Spartan, looking at Marcus and Teresa.

  “Yeah, I’ve seen her on the ship. She missed the fighting on Prime and seems pretty pissed about it,” said Teresa, who then clunked her metal fist against his armour.

  “Marcus, there’s something down there I think we should take a look at. When we took our diversion to escape, Alsop found a fibre optic loom. It continued down the shaft and out to the side into a narrow tunnel.”

  “How narrow?”

  “Too narrow for a Vanguard suit, even a marine. One of the sentry drones could do it,” Teresa answered.

  “What’s so special about this loom?”

  “I don’t know. It is relatively new and that means it wasn’t part of the original mining station. It must be something to do with the Zealots.”

  “Okay, I’m sold. Here’s the plan. Take one squad back into the shaft and set up more sentry units to scan for movement. Send a drone down the tunnel and see what you find. I’ll get back up from the battalion down here to assist. We aren’t leaving till will have something solid,” Spartan said firmly.

  Teresa nodded and turned to the two marines stood waiting. With a simple hand gesture, she beckoned for them to follow. Spartan moved past and continued up the ramp until he reached the Landing Platform. The marines had done good work and based on the number of bodies, they had repelled quite an assault themselves. As he moved closer, Sergeant Lovett, leader of 2nd Squad, closed the distance.

  “Sir, the area is secure. The civilians are already boarding the landing craft, you heard about Hobbs?”

  “What about Hobbs?” came a voice to the side of them.

  Spartan looked to his left and then down slightly. He spotted the form of Captain Hobbs in her standard issue Marine Corps Personal Defence Suit. Unlike the Vanguard armour being used by Spartan’s troops, hers was close fitting and more like an armoured wetsuit. It was much lighter and less resilient than the heavy exo-armour, but it was sealed for use in all environments and also proof against small arms fire. She wore a helmet, though the visor was slid open to reveal the glass beneath.

  “Captain, the Sergeant was just letting me know of your arrival. Good to see you here, Sir.”

  “Of course,” answered the Captain, her tone was anything but sincere.

  “I see your unit has sustained casualties, I’m here to clear up the mess.”

  “Mess? We’ve sustained no casualties, Sir, and our operation is ongoing. We have a lead on Zealot technology deep inside the site. Sergeant Morato is in the process of moving drones into the area to investigate.”

  “Sergeant Morato? Weren’t you both privates less than a year ago?” she asked, with a barely hidden sneer of contempt. “I recall you were implicated in the mur
der of the President of Kerberos. Who gave you a combat unit? You should be in the brig!”

  “I’m sure General Rivers would be interested in your thoughts regarding our mission to Kerberos,” said Spartan, ever happy to rise to the challenge.

  The Captain looked at him carefully, trying to size up the man that had risen so quickly through the ranks. From a private, to sergeant and beyond.

  “The civilians are being returned to a safe holding area in New Carlos for debriefing. I will assist in the remainder of the operation. What is your tactical situation?” she asked, doing her best to keep the previous conversation out of her mind.

  Spartan shook his head inside his suit. It wasn’t that the officer was a woman, far from it. He’d already served under women, finding them no better or worse than the men. No, this one was the classic officer with something to prove. Spartan may not have been a marine for very long, but he’d seen more action than most and also his fair share of self-serving officers out to make a name for themselves.

  “The Landing Platform, as you can see, is clear. The tunnels, up to two hundred metres out, are secure and we have sentry sensors placed at all the access points. Sergeant Morato and one fire team are working in the mine shaft to investigate a narrow shaft, where we think we may be able to isolate insurgent equipment or intelligence.”

  “Intelligence? Good, that’s what we need. My company is well equipped to control the situation, I suggest we use your...heavies to continue their search. My 1st Squad is already on its way down. We will set up a command post on the Platform, along with a supply station. You will move back into the tunnel and continue your investigation. I will send an additional squad to liaise with you under my platoon sergeant.”

  “Sir? We do not need additional manpower, our full platoon is more than enough.”

  “Nonsense, your armour might make you feel invincible, Spartan, but it is just going to restrict your movement and slow you down,” she said in a tone that told Spartan the discussion was over.