Star Crusades Uprising: The First Trilogy

by Michael G. Thomas

  The recruits filed out of the hall and headed in different directions, some to their quarters and others to the two recreation rooms. Unlike previous training activities, this one seemed to have encouraged them to intermingle as the recruits swapped stories on the complex operation they’d just worked through.

  Spartan, Jesus, and Marcus walked down the main corridor towards their usual rec room. As they passed the first set of berths, Teresa appeared at the doorway.

  “Hey, Spartan!”

  He walked up to the door, placing one hand on the bulkhead.

  “Inside!” she shouted with a grin.

  Reaching out she grabbed Spartan and yanked him so he fell through the open door. As he stumbled to the floor she slammed the door shut.

  Marcus looked at Jesus with a look of surprise on his face.

  “Bastard!” laughed Jesus.

  CHAPTER SIX

  For millions of years the massive planet of Proxima Prime had been circled by over a hundred natural satellites. When the first colonists arrived they built several small outposts on the more habitable moons with the greatest on the moon Kronus, named after mighty Greek Titan. As the planet below was colonised a number of further manmade transit stations were built so that ships, people and materials could be moved freely to and from the planet. Following their role in the Great War, each of the twelve stations was improved with extra ports, habitation sections, defences and garrisons. The moon of Kronus with its low gravity, thick atmosphere and abundance of raw materials became the Titan Naval Station. This was the largest and most powerful military and industrial site in the Proxima System and the most populated moon in the Confederation.

  The Twelve Titans

  Spartan, Jesus, Teresa, Marcus and a dozen other marines stood on the observation platform on the outer ring of the section. This section was separate to the rotating ring by a short shaft and airlock to the rest of the ship. The windows were small and polarised in case of flares but the view was still incredible. Along the one side were several chairs and even a small table, it was almost civilised. On the wall was a picture of the Santa Maria from her early days as a colony ship. There was a large hydroponic section towards the sterns that Spartan didn’t ever recall seeing on the current ship. It must have been removed to make way for more fuel or storage. From their slowly rotating position they had a panoramic view of the Fleet and it was a sight to behold. The view gave them three rotations a minute and at that speed they needed to concentrate on one thing at a time. It was easy to feel sick, even in space. The Santa Maria had been their home for some time that they had almost forgotten what anything else looked like. Unlike their own ship, they were now surrounded by ships originally built as weapons of war and the difference in their looks was marked. Unlike converted ships, the true warships were built with their fragile crew and fuel sections heavily armoured and protected. The other massive difference was use of space. On a military ship there was no space for luxuries and anywhere that had more than was required could be used for storage, extra armour or simply removed. Without the practicalities of looks of a commercial ship, the warships looked rough and almost insect like from the outside. Extra mounts, gantries and modifications were present on all of them and the older the ship usually the more modifications and changes had taken place. They all carried the symbol of the Interstellar Navy on their bows and each vessel was marked with its vessel code and name. Also present was the massive number of antennae that seemed to protrude from every single side of the ships. Communication was critical in space and no expense spared on the electronics and jamming equipment. Another key feature of the warships was their obsession with multiband radar systems. In space, it was necessary to monitor for objects of all sizes. At high speed an object the size of a melon could tear great holes through even a battleship. The quicker the Captain knew of danger, the quicker he could avoid it or turn the Point Defence System (PDS) against the threat. The PDS was part of every military ship and now many of the civilian vessels. It comprised a multiband radar installation and a series of low-tech kinetic weapon turrets. These were essentially modern versions of the machine guns and automatic cannons of the twentieth century. In space, they fired a cloud of solid shot in the direction of a threat and had a modest chance of destroying or damaging the target. They were cheap, reasonably effective and a requirement on any vessel travelling the troubles trade lanes of the Proxima Centauri System.

  Normally they could just see a small number of the tiny escort cutters that circled all transports that travelled through the Confederation. Transports were vulnerable as they had minimal weapons and armour and carried large numbers of crew and marines. This made them very desirable targets. The cutters were always on the lookout for the small and hard to spot craft that could threaten so many lives. Times had changed and the view today was very different, it almost had the look of an epic painting from the Great War.

  There hadn’t been much time but the Confederation had managed to assemble seventeen vessels including the Battlecruiser CCS Crusader, the escort carrier Wasp with her complement of eight heavily armed gunboats and shuttles, four cruisers and six marine transports that included their own Santa Maria. The Wasp was due for retirement and had been built to use in the war but arrived just a few months too late. Though she had seen long service, she had never been involved in any major action.

  It wasn’t the most powerful fleet the System had ever seen but it certainly had access to substantial firepower and had the capacity to conduct a great variety of space and ground based operations. The group of six marine transports had taken on extra troops en route. They now had of over nine hundred marines per vessel, as well as a small number of elite Special Forces commandos, the best marines in the entire military. Each of the marine transports was a mirror of the Santa Maria, but they all had peculiarities in their engines and basic internal layout. On board, they carried the usual mixture of unarmoured shuttles, assault landing craft and heavily armoured troop transports. The landing craft were small but optimised for high-speed combat operations, whereas the transports were able to carry company-sized units directly into the fight. More vessels were on the way from Alpha Centauri and if they waited they could add another two battleships and an extra two-dozen warships. But it would be months before they arrived with the journey time of over three hundred days. Confed had demanded immediate action to retake the transit stations and Titan Naval Station. The marines had been given no more information, as the battle plan was being kept secret and known only to the senior commanders in the Fleet.

  “What do you think the plan is?”

  Spartan sighed, as he watched the ships moving outside.

  “I doubt it will be anything fancy, Marcus. The Fleet has been assembled fast and we’re already on our way aren’t we? What worries me is that it doesn’t take a genius to work out that if you take something that belongs to somebody else they are gonna want it back. We can pussy foot about but I doubt they are stupid. No matter the plan they will be ready and this is gonna get messy, fast.”

  “Wow, you’re a real optimist today you know that. I heard from one of the ensigns that we changed course nearly two days ago but he wouldn’t say to where. It looks like the Fleet is going somewhere, the question is where?” asked Teresa.

  “Hmm, let me think, Titan Naval Station maybe?” said Jesus sarcastically.

  The group stood in silence for a moment but Spartan was unusually quiet. He was staring out at the ships in the Fleet.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Teresa, I just can’t believe that an underground movement that has been able to hold off an entire division of infantry on Proxima and then has taken over the orbital bases and stations, is going to be a push over. They obviously have a plan and I doubt it is to sit and wait for us.”

  “From what I’ve seen on the news they’re blockading Prime and starving the cities and the military of aid. It’s not easy to tell exactly what’s happening, they’re stopping most broadcasts from
the surface so we’re only getting part of the story,” Jesus added.

  “What I don’t get though is why they even need external aid or support? They’re a goddamned planet, surely than can just carry on with or without anything else coming in,” Marcus said.

  Corporal Williams, one of the marines from third platoon was nearby and heard the discussion. He called over to them.

  “I know three guys that are in frontline down at the Bone Mill. The last I heard from them is that the Zealots have attacked a lot of the transport and are destroying or taking over much of the storage and production facilities. It isn’t far off a civil war down there and yet they are still fighting in that shit hole of a pit.”

  “I didn’t know it had gone so quickly. How have they been able to turn things against us so fast?” asked Teresa, genuinely concerned.

  Williams wandered over, checking over his shoulder when he reached them. “This goes nowhere else now, right?”

  They all moved closer, keen to hear whatever gossip he’d uncovered.

  “From what I’ve heard the trouble on Prime was an inside job. The Zealots have got support right up to the top, my source said it goes right to the Council!”

  “Bullshit!”

  “Shut the fuck up, man, I said to keep this to yourself. Look, Marcus, believe me or not, you have to admit it is pretty crazy that a bunch of religious fanatics have gone from blowing up the odd transport to a full military takeover of stations, cities and warships in just a few months. You know they have at least one battleship guarding Titan Naval Station, right? What if they’ve got more?”

  “What if they turn the guns onto the Station?” Spartan asked.

  “Yeah, man, you’re right. If they do that what can we do? We send in a hundred marines and they destroy the place. Whatever they’re planning it had better be good,” said Jesus.

  In the Combat Information Centre (CIC) the senior commanders of the Fleet were assembled. The room was circular in shape and they were stood around a large table on which a three dimensional model of the Proxima System was displayed. At this distance, it showed all the planets and collections of moons and satellites. The first thing that was obvious was that Prime and her number of stations was the most significant part of the sector. Kerberos was a close second and that planet featured over a dozen inhabited moons and mining stations. There were certainly plenty of other planets and moons but none the equal of the jewel of the Confederation, Prime. In the corner the Admiral stood as a veritable army of intelligence chiefs, ships’ captains and marine commanders crowded in. The Admiral walked to the centre of the room, flanked by her two marine bodyguards.

  “Good evening, I will keep this brief as we’ll have much preparation to do. We are seventeen hours from Proxima Prime and the situation remains fluid on both the transit stations, Titan Naval Station and on the planet’s surface. Before we go over the details of the plan we will examine the latest intelligence.” She signalled to Anderson.

  “In the last twenty-four hours we have managed to get three vessels close enough to scan the area around Prime. What we have found is quite frankly shocking. All of the transit stations are either under enemy control or have been destroyed.” He paused for a moment as a murmur of surprise followed this news.

  “Three of the stations, Titan’s 3, 4, and 10 were destroyed in a mixture of sabotage and suicide attacks. Casualty estimates from the three stations are in excess of two hundred thousand people. The cruiser Acropolis has been crippled and there is currently a major action on board. We assume the crew are attempting to fight off attempts to board her but for now she is dead in space. As for the Proxima System, the rest of the planets are stable and, though there have been some disturbances on some of the moons and stations, we have been able to calm things down. Out here in the Rim things are a little wild, but they always are and this is something we will deal with later.”

  He pressed a button and the three dimensional model zoomed out to show the Confederation Systems. With a move of his hand, the model zoomed out further to show a series of star systems, a number of light years away.

  “Due to the obvious communication delays we have no news on the new colonies at Epsilon Eridani, Gliese 876 or Procyon. We have sent detailed information to them but it will not get there in time to help us nor could they send help even if they wanted to. We can only hope that they have not experienced the same devastation that we have.”

  With another movement, he brought the star system of Alpha Centauri into view. Its two stars and scores of planets were a rich source of mineral to the Confederation as well as supporting most of the colony worlds and moons.

  “We have received word from the forty-two colonies at Alpha Centauri that so far nothing untoward has happened. Military forces have been put on alert and it looks like we might be able to contain this to Prime and the stations. A fleet is being assembled and the 3rd and 4 th

  Marine Regiments have been reactivated in case this goes any further. If, and this is a big if, we can contain this problem, we should be able to stop it right here. If for any reason the revolt spreads outside of Prime a general call to all reservists will go out and the Confederation will be placed on a war footing. Finally, Sol. As with our other distant colonies, we cannot get word to them anytime soon and have sent the same data packets as we sent to Procyon. In short, this immediate situation concerns the colonies in Proxima Centauri. These are all in range of both our forces and the insurgency.”

  He pressed a few more keys and the map returned to the planets and its moons.

  “Now, current figures show nine stations are occupied. The estimate for occupying forces is around fifty to a hundred insurgents per transit station, with at least five hundred clustered around the naval facilities and habitation zones at Titan Naval Station. This means a lowest estimate of around fifteen hundred of them on the stations alone. From this number we can see the movement must have inside support, they cannot have transported this many people without us noticing, that’s what Military Intelligence say anyway,” he said seriously.

  With another sweep of his hand, the display zoomed down to the surface of the planet. “As for Prime we have a problem. Most communications to and from the planet have been blocked. The Acropolis was trying to collect data via direct data streams when she was hit by three suicide attacks from captured vessels. They were able to send us a large volume of encrypted data before being cut off. From what they sent we know that a large uprising has started in most of the smaller towns and agricultural areas. So far, the cities are under Confed control but there are reports of heavy fighting at the power plants, transport hubs and ports. All operations at the Bone Mill have been halted until the situation is resolved. For now those units are being redeployed to where they are needed most. Elements of the 7th and 12th Regiments are holding the area in case the insurgents try to take advantage of the situation,” he said finally.

  As he stepped backed a man in a dark, flowing uniform devoid of any insignia, replaced him.

  “I represent the logistical service on Prime and have details on the weapons and equipment that has been confirmed as used in the field.”

  Though most there were not familiar with his garb the more experienced of the officers knew immediately he was from one of the Special Forces intelligence units on the planet.

  “Firstly, the Zealots are fighting in much larger numbers than any of our estimates have shown. They are more ruthless than ever before. Even when attacking the primary polar power plant on Prime, they continued until all of them were killed. They attacked with eighty members and did not stop. They are well motivated and our estimates place their planet-side strength anywhere between four and twenty thousand. This figure does not include the unknown number at the Bone Mill. I don’t want to confirm or deny this, but there are estimates by field agents that enemy numbers could be five times this number,” he said calmly.

  The mood in the room was electric. What had been expected to be a thousand people in tota
l was turning into a full scale uprising of kind not seen since the Great War.

  “Now, weapons, equipment and tactics. It is clear that the Zealots have been massing supplies and equipment for years. To date, we have come across everything from knives to military issue shotguns and rifles. They are using body armour, most of which is home produced and not effective against our L48 rifles. They are vastly more experienced in hand-to-hand combat and in every engagement where they have been close enough to use edged weapons they have overwhelmed our forces. They are competent with knives, maces and even swords. Some of their close quarter weapon designs are completely new to us. We have reports that these devices are quite capable of punching through the chest armour of a marine,” he added, followed by a long pause.

  “Finally, vehicles. We have seen evidence of homegrown vehicles, mainly land based and a few aircraft in the north. In general, they seem to prefer ground combat but are capable of hijacking or capturing craft of all kinds. They have the knowledge and skills to repair, modify and operate everything from trains to warships. This suggests knowledge from within our existing security structures,” he said before stepping back.

  “Before General Rivers explains our plans I would like a full update on the Fleet. Please keep this short as time is critical!” The Admiral ordered.

  * * *

  Lieutenant Erdeniz lay in his hospital bed gazing out of the windows. He knew they weren’t real, but the view was a direct feed from outside and it was good to see something other than the white walls of the room. He had only recently woken up and the drugs were still swirling inside his body, making him feel as though he had been drinking for the last twenty-four hours. As he lay there the door opened and in walked a captain, flanked by a guard. He marched up to the side of the bed and removed his hat.