“Captain Erdeniz, I presume?” asked an almost amused sounding woman.
He stood for a second, desperately trying to make out the woman’s face. The dull light from the flares gave her face some form but not enough to recognize her by.
“Where is Manager Carter? I was told he was coming here.”
“Good luck with that. He was taken this morning by a hunter team. We’re down to thirty-seven. Give it another day, and we’ll probably be half that number. We didn’t know whether to split or come here. There might be one other group left, but the last I saw of them was when five Biomechs chased them into the ruined tractor complex. Maybe they made it, maybe they didn’t. Either way, the place was destroyed by bombers an hour later.”
Erdeniz shook his head at the news.
“I’m sorry to hear that. So they still have troops in the city as well?”
“Looks that way, from the columns of trucks we spotted half an hour ago, I would say they are starting a full scale evacuation of the city.”
“How many trucks?”
“We lost count after eighty. They are being protected by about a hundred militiamen, too many for us to take on with just thirty-seven people. Is the plan still on?”
Captain Erdeniz was shocked by the news. He knew the Union was taking a large percentage of their troops as well as numbers of prisoners, but he never thought they would take so many.
“Yes, that’s why we’re here. The plan is simple. We hit the port area before they finish loading, and slow them down long enough to get some of the civvies armed and turn the entire place into a warzone. They don’t have many troops left, so if we make it too costly, they will be forced to leave or bring in reinforcements. Do you know the area?”
She nodded.
“I know the area well. We did a recce two days ago when we first heard about this operation. The army barracks is nearby.”
“Good. We start the operation in thirty minutes. I need your forces to create a diversion. Hit the spaceport from the west and spread out. Cause as much damage as you possibly can, but try not to lose your people.”
“Okay, and you?”
“We’ll hit the command post and barracks. With them knocked out, we should be able to clear the site of hostiles. If we are lucky, we might find extra help for those spare firearms.”
“What about their reinforcements?”
“We have another group working on that. Based on the numbers, we calculate less than a thousand troops remain on this planet. If we are fast and bold, we have a chance to end this occupation before they realize we are even here. Are you ready?”
“Yep. What about your people?” she asked expectantly. She looking into the darkness and strained her eyes. It wasn’t easy, but she desperately wanted to see if the Captain had brought the kind of numbers she had been expecting.
“We’re all here. You just make sure you keep them busy, and we’ll do our bit.”
* * *
Misaki and Bishop made their way to the guards’ station. It had taken almost five minutes for them to reach this part of the ship, and already the number of civilians pushing their way around was becoming irritating. The ship was apparently an expensive liner used to carry up to five hundred people in exquisite luxury to various destinations. Bishop had seen one ship like it before as it carried people on a yearlong voyage between Terra Nova and Prime. As they approached the entrance to the passenger section, they stopped at the hastily erected security station. Two heavily armoured marines guarded it, yet Bishop was less than impressed by the position. From what he could see, the lax measures taken by the civilians would prove almost useless in a crisis.
“Name?” asked the civilian guard. Bishop looked at the man and then over to the nearest marine. The two stood motionless, yet paid neither him nor Misaki any attention. He couldn’t see how two motionless and inattentive guards, plus one gruff looking civilian, would stop foul play.
“Your name, marine?” snarled the man.
Bishop leaned closely towards the man who recoiled slightly at his approach.
“Why the rudeness? We’re all here for the same reason.”
He looked over to the marines and back to the civilian in his fancy dress uniform. It was something of an anachronism, yet on this extravagant ship he had seen many others. He could only assume this was the company’s uniform.
“Why are civilians running the security details here?”
The man pulled at his jacket before replying.
“This is a first-rate civilian passenger liner. We never asked to be drafted into the military for this operation.”
“So what? Do you think anybody will hire you and your ship if the Union control this sector?”
As they spoke, Misaki tapped away on her datapad. Bishop could not quite make out what she was up to, but from experience it would be something that would get him into trouble. The man cleared his throat and tried again.
“Please, Sir, what is your name and what is your business?”
“Better. My name is Bishop, Sergeant Bishop, and this is Misaki SatM.”
“Your business?”
“None of yours. Check your roster, and you’ll find me on the list.”
The man shook his head but said nothing more. He ran his hand along a list on his computer system until reaching one of their names.
“Ah, yes. I have you here, Sergeant. Miss SatM, you are not on the marine roster.”
“Does she look like a marine?” asked Bishop.
He pointed at her, and as if to emphasise the point she struck a pose. Her tight trousers, and less than conservative blouse, seemed to attract his attention. Bishop spotted him looking a little too attentively at her.
“Miss SatM is on attachment to our tech unit for the time being. She should be down on the…” he was cut off by the man who quickly regretted not waiting.
“Yes, here we are. Miss Misaki SatM, R&D department. You are both clear to enter.”
“What?” Bishop demanded.
“You may enter the passenger decks.”
“What about checking who we are?”
“Well, Sir, I’ve already asked you this.”
Bishop shook his head in irritation.
“We could have lied.”
He turned to Misaki who was still working on her datapad.
“Come on, let’s go.”
“One second...hold on.”
He waited patiently until she finally finished whatever it was she was working on. Bishop led the way and Misaki followed a short distance behind until they were through the double doors and approaching an open plaza-type space.
“What were you doing?” he asked.
“Give it a few more seconds and you’ll see.”
The open area was actually a triple-width corridor but decked out with marble on the walls and floor. The ceiling was a single panel of what appeared to be glass. Bishop had heard of this level of artificial surface modelling before, but he had never seen one as extravagant as this. It gave the impression of a domed ceiling made entirely of glass that provided exquisite views of space. In reality, the ceiling was no different to any other part of the ship. It was merely a three-dimensional projection, in much the same way as those used to create the bridge on military ships, but without real windows.
A series of red lights started to flash at intervals where they stood until their intensity increased, and a number of alarms triggered. The response from a rapid security team was impressive. In less than thirty seconds, four men in civilian work clothes and two marines rushed back towards the security post.
“What did you do, Misaki?”
She smiled but said nothing. Voices of somebody shouting came from behind, and the security man they had been speaking with appeared, flanked on both sides by the newly arrived marines. As he was taken away, he threw a bitter glance at the two of them.
“That was you?” asked a surprised Bishop.
“Well, not entirely. I merely implied he might have been
on the take.”
“What?”
“It’s okay, once they run checks, they’ll find it is down to a simple auditing error on the system.”
Bishop sighed.
“And how long will it take for the checks to be carried out?”
“Well, that is up to how efficient they are. At least three to four hours, I would think.”
Another group of marines move past, and one stopped in front of them.
“Bishop, Sergeant Bishop?” he asked in a thick accent.
Bishop looked at the man; he was also a sergeant but slightly older and heavily scarred. His dark black skin was unusual in the Corps with the larger than average percentage of Hispanic and Caucasian men. The patches and insignia on his uniform indicated he was from the 5th Reconnaissance Battalion, the elite commando unit of the Marine Corps.
“Yes, that’s me.”
“You know Spartan and Teresa?”
“Yes.”
“I thought it was you. I’m Marcus Keller. We all went through the training programme together. I don’t know if you remember, but I was one of the prisoners, along with General Rivers and Spartan, that you helped rescue.”
He turned to Misaki and nodded politely.
“And who might you be?”
“Misaki SatM, at your service,” she replied, almost comically.
“Oh, yes, I’ve heard about your technical work. I didn’t quite expect to see somebody quite as attractive on this rust bucket.”
Bishop looked pained at his painful flirting, but Misaki seemed to be enjoying the attention.
“Tell me, Sergeant. What is happening here?”
“Nothing serious. Looks like there was some kind of security sensor problem. We have people working on it. Look, I need to go. Perhaps the three of us could meet up later?”
Bishop was prepared to make an excuse, but the look on Misaki’s face told him otherwise. He opened his mouth to speak, and she nodded before a word left his lips.
“I’ll contact you on the comms system. In the meantime, you probably want to go and sort out your quarters. See you later.”
He turned from the two, moving through the door where the rest of the marines were checking the computers. Bishop stopped and looked at her sternly.
“What the hell was that all about?”
Misaki feigned surprise and pointed at him.
“Is poor Bishop feeling jealous?”
He said nothing as he watched her stand in front of him, but his body language told her more than any words.
“Look. We met on Prometheus and shared a terrible experience. It would be good to talk and meet up again.”
“Talk. That all you want?”
“Well, it’s not like I spent time with you for that, is it?” she asked with a wicked grin.
“Come on, let’s see what our quarters are like.”
She moved on ahead and continued through the beautifully detailed decor of the ship. A number of sailors and marines were moving about, most carrying equipment and supplies. A small number of the personnel on board travelled light and were probably looking for their quarters as well.
“Where is your place?” asked Misaki.
“To the right and next to the secondary escape deck. That’s it, there,” he said, pointing in the direction they needed to follow.
Misaki moved ahead, quickly reaching a circular door protected by a security panel. As he moved closer, a light flashed on and a holographic face appeared to the right of the panel.
“Good day, Sergeant Bishop. Your quarters are ready. Please enter your security information.”
“Nice AI and sensor suite,” said Misaki, genuinely impressed with the equipment.
“Yeah, the perks of staying on a liner right?”
He pushed his hand to the panels where it his fingerprints were scanned.
“Thank you, please enter,” continued the security unit. The door slid open with no discernable sound. They stepped forward and looked inside. It was a large suite that was probably designed for a single family. Bishop moved in first, gawping at the wooden furnishings and the substantial amounts of crystal and glass covering almost every surface. The beds had been removed and replaced by three bunks. Each doubled up to provide sleeping space for six. On the floor were a number of military issue bags, obvious by their labelling and urban camouflage pattern. Bishop checked them until finding his and pulled it over to one side.
“Yeah, that’s mine,” he said.
“Where are the others?”
Bishop shrugged.
“We’re earlier than expected, maybe the next transport. Why?”
She turned to the door and pushed it shut. She stood there, facing away from him and pulled her blouse upwards and dropped it on the floor. She turned to face him with just her tight fitting pants and dark blue bra.
“Hey, not here. What if somebody comes in?”
She stepped forward and pushed him to the nearest bed. It caught the back of his knee as he fell back. She jumped on top of him.
“You know what I want!” she said with a wicked look on her face.
Bishop reached up with his hands around her, and with a few clicks undid her bra. It dropped off behind her leaving her naked from the waist up.
“Come on, Bishop, now!” she shouted.
A loud thump signalled the opening of the door, and in walked four men. Each was wearing marine fatigues and carried small bags.
“Nice!” exclaimed the first.
“Yeah, can we get in on that?” asked the second.
Bishop sat up surprised and embarrassed. Misaki, on the other hand, just started laughing. Another man entered the room. It was Sergeant Keller. As he spotted the two, he stopped and grinned.
“You two didn’t waste any time, now did you?”
He thrust a datapad towards Bishop who was forced to lean past the almost naked torso of Misaki.
“We have reports of two men, possibly armed, trying to take weapons from one of the arms lockers. We’ve got them pinned in that section, but I’m down on manpower. Until the rest of the squads get here, I could do with a hand.”
Bishop jumped off the bed and stepped closer to the Sergeant.
“No problem, lead the way,” he said firmly.
Sergeant Keller bent down and lifted the crumpled blouse from the floor. He stepped towards Misaki and handed her the item.
“I think you dropped this, Miss.”
She looked up at him and smiled.
“Thank you, Sergeant, you are too kind.”
Bishop watched them both with an irritated and frustrated expression on his face.
“I won’t keep him long, so save it for later,” he laughed, and with a wink headed for the door.
“Come on, marines, let’s go.”
CHAPTER TEN
The formation of the 1st Assault Battalion occurred at the high watermark of the Proxima Emergency. Though unknown at the time, the decision to move Spartan and his Vanguards to work alongside the allied Biomechs would prove critical to the war. Their early operations established Spartan as something more than just a platoon commander. He would find himself at the heart of the greatest battle of the war. A battle that would see the Jötnar reveal their true loyalty.
The Rise of Spartan
The mess hall on board the Oceania was nothing short of spectacular. The vast open space was normally used as the main banquet area, but now it was used exclusively by the marines and sailors serving on the ship. The fine cutlery and porcelain may have been removed, but the furnishings, tables and lavish artworks all remained. There were a number of high quality liners and passenger transports in Proxima Centauri, but it was rare for anybody below the top brass of the military or wealthy industrialists to ever see the insides of such a vessel.
At one of the larger tables sat Misaki and Bishop, as well as another three marines from his new unit. The other tables were all packed with hungry marines, and every single one of them looked totally out of place when comp
ared to the grandeur of the well-decorated ship.
“Well, we’ve already met, but I don’t know your names,” Misaki said, doing her best to break the ice. She was aware that her first impression with the marines hadn’t been ideal, but with a little tact and diplomacy, she should be able to turn things around.
The tallest of the group, a muscular looking marine with a strong rural accent, spoke first. Like the other marines on board, he looked green. It wasn’t just the look of his uniform that was spotless and unblemished, but it was the way he sat. Whereas Bishop had the look of a man that had seen enough to know he didn’t need to go looking for trouble anymore, but for some reason it had no difficulty in finding him.
“I’m Jones, these two are Terry and Vince. We just transferred from the marine barracks on Prometheus. You’re not in our unit?” he asked.
“You sound disappointed?” she replied.
“Well, you did have a way of brightening up our quarters.”
Bishop leaned forward, his face starting to redden. He wasn’t easily embarrassed, but this was his first time with the group of marines, and it was never a good thing to give them too much ammunition to use, especially from the beginning.
“Yeah, well that isn’t going to be happening again soon. At least, not when you bunch of pervs are about.”
It was a minor but useful insult, and it instantly turned the conversation around to the normal banter that could be expected at any marine barracks or on a Navy ship.
“Anyway, Misaki is a high-level tech specialist. She won’t be wasting time with the likes of you.”
“Nice,” said Vince, the shortest and slightly portly looking fellow, “Bishop said you’ve both seen quite a bit of action. This is our first posting since finishing boot.”
“We were on the underground Biomech facility on Prometheus.”
“The factories? You mean the camps where they were feeding prisoners into the machines?”
Star Crusades Uprising: The Second Trilogy Page 44
