Teresa double-checked her tactical display, all her weapons showed as functional with a full load out of ammunition and no problems showing up. The suits had been massively improved since their last outing and in training only two had failed, due to servicing problems.
“1st Squad, check your weapons and sensors, report any issues immediately,” she said firmly.
Back in his own tunnel it felt to Spartan like he was on another ship, for all the good he could do. Nagging doubts in his mind almost made him turn and move back to provide assistance, but he knew Teresa was strong, well trained and easily able to handle herself. He just needed to give her the time and space to prove it to the rest of the team.
“2nd Squad, keep moving, just one hundred metres to go. Anybody picking up hostiles yet?” he asked.
A series of negative responses came back. The last team that had come down into the depths of the Bone Mill had been a mixed Marine and local Army militia unit. They had been well armed and equipped, but were very green and high after their success in saving the colony of Avagana. When they were attacked during a significant ambush, the Army recruits had panicked and turned back, running directly into the advancing marines. In the panic of the retreat over fifty had been killed. Only three made it to the surface, all with terrible wounds from which they died.
“How far away are they?” he asked.
“Seventy metres and closing fast!” Teresa answered.
“Okay, Sergeant, you know the drill, execute the salve formation. Everyone else stand your ground!”
“Yes, Sir,” she said firmly and then took a breath before continuing.
“Salve formation!” she called out to her squad.
“Private Alsop, kneel beside me. Next two close up behind us and rest your guns above us.”
They moved quickly and in just a few seconds the first two were on their knees. The large armoured suits lowering themselves enough to allow the next two marines to close in and shoot above them. It was a position they had been practicing to allow smaller units greater protection and firepower when engaging the Biomechs. According to Spartan, it was an old system used by soldiers with primitive gunpowder weapons. Teresa didn’t care about that. As long as it worked, she’d use it.
“Sergeant, there!” shouted Alsop. He moved his main beam to the right. With just a minor change in position, the four marines at the front were able to get a glimpse of the first Biomechs they had seen underground. The bright light and hard black shadows it was impossible to judge much detail, but they were smaller than those they had met on Prometheus. The creatures were slightly bigger than a man but with a bestial look about them. Their limbs were thicker and most carried improvised weapons. A flash of light came from the end of the tunnel as one of them fired a rifle at the marines.
“What the hell, they have guns?” shouted a private.
“Quiet!” ordered Teresa as she pointed her arms in the direction of the approaching enemy. Sporadic gunfire hit around them but their armour was strong and they stood fast, watching the enemy through their enhanced optics.
“Remember your training, short, controlled bursts and watch for friendlies.”
She turned her head, the reinforced metal head twisting slightly so that she could check on her squad. They were ready and waiting for her orders and unlike the rookies that had been here before, they were disciplined and professional.
“Open fire!” she cried.
The quiet of the tunnel vanished as the twin-linked large calibre automatic weapons fitted to the Vanguards opened fire. With each blast the shells pushed back their arms, the recoil proving substantial. Teresa had twin weapons on both arms and as she fired the tunnel flashed white and yellow from the muzzle flash. The two marines behind her leaned slightly forward, partially to absorb some of their recoil but mainly to help keep the first two in position as they continued shooting. The solid block of metal looked like an immovable bunker with a myriad of weapons bristling across the front of the marines. The second two targeted the surviving Biomechs and added their own fire, filling the tunnel with explosive rounds that allowed nothing living to approach them. The only thing that could have survived would have been another group of Vanguard Marines.
“Cease fire!” she called as her sensors indicated all movement had stopped.
The lights on the suits bathed the tunnel, but the smoke and dust from the shooting made it almost impossible for anybody to see. With a quick tap, she switched back to thermal imaging. The visor clicked and it was clear the enemy attack was over. There were large numbers of hot bodies across the tunnel floor and the remnants of superheated shells and shrapnel.
“Lieutenant Spartan, the tunnel is clear. Looks like we were hit by about twenty standard size Biomechs, some armed with small arms. They must have taken them from the last team that was down here.”
One of the marines bent down, lifting a smashed Biomech body with his mechanical hand. The creature was bigger than a man and this one was only partially clad in clothing and armour. Its muscles were excessively big and the jaw and neck puffed up with enhanced muscles. He pointed to the built-in rifles on its head.
“Stop! I said, cease fire!” roared Teresa as she took three steps towards him. Pushing out her arm she grabbed the dead creature and tossed it aside.
“Get on point and stay awake!” she growled.
Spartan interrupted as the intercom in her suit crackled with updates from the rest of her squad.
“Good work, Sergeant, keep moving and get that tunnel cleared! We can’t afford any access points for the enemy. It’s easy to get overwhelmed down here. My squad is approaching the Control Room. Let’s hope the place is still functional.”
“Affirmative, Sir.”
“Jones, you stay up on point and keep moving, everybody else stay in formation. Let’s go,” she said.
They stomped ahead, some of them having to tread directly onto the bodies of the recently fallen. Luckily, the sickening sound of crunching bones could be avoided inside the armour. That didn’t stop them being aware of what was going on. In the lead, Teresa had a clear view of the tunnel. Rounding the corner, she almost walked directly into a large chunk of partially collapsed ceiling.
“Damn,” she muttered, bending down to look under the shattered masonry.
From her position, she could only see a few metres before more broken metal and rocks blocked the area.
“What do you think?” she asked Private Alsop, who was next to her.
He shone his powerful beam into the debris, looking for gaps they could push through. It was useless. ”No way, I’d say the collapsed section is at least twenty metres long, it could be a lot longer than that.”
“What about them, could they get through?”
“I doubt it, maybe a small animal like a cat or dog, but the Biomechs? No way!”
Teresa stood up looking left and right. There was no possibility of moving any further.
“Lieutenant, the tunnel is blocked. We’ll leave a sentry back in the tunnel and regroup with 3rd Squad at the Landing Bay.”
“Okay, Sergeant, regroup and await my orders,” he said curtly, evidently busy with his own work.
Back inside his own tunnel, Spartan’s team were now just a short distance from the crossroads on his map. According to the intelligence he had been given, the Control Room was on the left, opposite three small offices formally used by the Station Chief and the duty crew. The first fire team moved to the door, the other two spread out to provide cover.
“Private, the door!” he called to the nearest marine.
Lifting his armoured foot the man smashed forwards, knocking it open and to the side. An inexperienced team might rush the room, but not the Vanguards. With the door blasted open, a cloud of dust and dirt flew out to obscure their vision. One marine moved closer and bent down to check the floor for signs of explosives or triggers.
“Looks clear, Sir.”
Spartan gave him the nod and with great care he stepped ins
ide. The lights from his suit lit up the room to show ruined desks, smashed equipment and a partially collapsed ceiling. He looked back at Spartan.
“Nothing in there, Sir, the room is destroyed. Looks like it has been down for sometime.”
“Damn,” Spartan said under his breath. They needed intel and an operational computer suite could have provided them with everything they needed. He fired up the intercom.
“Sergeant Morato and Keller, are you in position?”
He was quickly acknowledged by two affirmatives.
“This area is a dead loss. We’re going to have to move inside the complex and search it the old fashioned way. Check the Landing Platform, I need to know if there are any other access points or tunnels that are clear for movement. We’re coming back,” he said, switching channels to his own squad.
“Listen up, this is a dead end, according to the maps the tunnel stops here. From what I can see, it’s right. We will join with the rest of the platoon and see if we can find an alternative way in.”
“What about the mining shafts for the tram system?” asked Private Jenkins.
“Yeah, on the map there was supposed to be a series of tracks that go down to the lower levels for ore extraction.” He thought for a moment.
“Interesting. It won’t take us near the computing or communication gear but it could get us near to where the enemy were hiding. I like it. Okay, squad, double-time it back to the Landing Platform.”
He’d pushed hard for his new unit to be given this mission and it wouldn’t look good if the Vanguards found nothing but bodies on their first operation. Plenty of good officers in the battalion were keen to see the Vanguard armour dispersed amongst the units to provide additional firepower and engineer capabilities to all platoons. Though Spartan could see some merit in this idea, his personal opinion was that a dedicated assault unit with maximum firepower and armour would be able to go places and conduct missions that no other units could do. The defence of New Carlos had already shown what they could do when dropped directly into a combat zone. That battle alone had secured him a chance to prove this unit was worth keeping permanently.
Spartan joined the rearguard and made his way back through the corridor. The jumping movement of the lights bouncing from the walls gave him the similar sick feeling he’d experienced in zero-g training. As he emerged from the entrance, the two other squads were stood waiting. They all stood to attention.
“The mine entrance is down there, Sir,” said Private Jenkins, pointing at a barely visible ramp that led down to the left.
Spartan checked his mapping information, specifically the length and depth of the tunnels. According to the last reports on the mining operation, the tunnels were up to three kilometres long. Several had been closed down with seismic charges and had probably buried a large number of insurgents alive.
“Okay, our plan is changing slightly. We will take two squads into the mineshafts and perform a full sweep of the immediate area. Sergeant Keller, it is imperative that your 3rd Squad stays here and maintains contact with headquarters. You are all that stands between us, and the surface. You have to ensure our rearguard is kept clear and ready for evacuation,” he said and then turned to Sergeants Morato and Lovett.
“You two will come with me, two squads will give us enough to cover the ground. We’ll redeploy our strength when we see what the situation in there is. Understood?”
Both sergeants nodded and turned to check on their men. Spartan was starting to feel the pressure of the mission and the need for results. A lot of resources had been expended getting his platoon here, and a body count of a couple of dozen Biomechs wouldn’t do it. The mining shafts were risky. They were long and contained a myriad of small rooms and passages cut into their walls. The upside was, that if there was anything to be learned about what had been going on here, he was likely to find it there.
“Ready?” he called.
With a nod from his two sergeants, he gave the signal to move. The twenty-four marines moved off two abreast in a snaking column. It was a mighty force. Spartan just hoped they would get to prove their worth as quickly as possible. He joined them, making careful progress past the metal and cables that lay strewn about. The Landing Platform soon disappeared to be replaced by a massively wide tunnel entrance with two sets of railways tracks leading off into the darkness.
“They used to drag the ore out through here then,” said one of Teresa’s squad.
Spartan said nothing, he just kept going forward and checking his scanner, sensors and thermal imaging for any signs of life. The displays in his suit showed the warm shape inside the Vanguard armour of the marines all around him, but everything else was cold and dark. The rest of the marines stayed quiet, it took several minutes before they reached a large open area that looked like a hollowed-out hall.
“What is this place? It isn’t on our plan.”
“Lieutenant, I think this is a rest and passing area. Look,” said Sergeant Lovett as he moved along the rail tracks to where a set of points diverted away to the side.
“Sir, over here!” called out one of the privates.
“What is it?”
The rest of the marines immediately fanned out to watch the front and rear of their position as they checked the area.
“Well, Sir, there are smaller tunnels breaking out from the sides. See, like this one.” He pointed to a dark opening about three metres wide and tall.
Spartan looked inside and moved his remote beams to light it. The tunnel went on as far as the beams could show. The thermal sensors on his suit picked up a number of blooms.
“Anybody else getting this signal? I’m showing seven sources around us, each of them inside the tunnels and about thirty metres in.”
“I’m getting the same, it’s taking the sensors a few minutes to work their way through the soil and moisture,” replied Sergeant Lovett.
“Are they moving?” asked Spartan.
“I don’t think so, but there’s something strange.”
“How so?”
“First of all, we normally get stronger readings from the Biomechs. These looks closer to human.”
“Zealots?” asked Spartan with clenched teeth.
“Maybe, or it could be prisoners. You did say there might be some down here.”
“True, either way we need to be sure,” he said, turning back around to face the rest of the two squads.
“We have potential friendlies in the area. I want one fire team from each squad to stay back and provide a defensive cordon in this open space. The rest will enter the tunnels and investigate. If you hit trouble put down fire and withdraw back here. Under no circumstances are you to push ahead if you encounter resistance! Understood?”
They nodded in agreement and started positioning themselves at the entrances to the tunnels.
“Remember, take it slow and avoid trouble. Good luck!”
Spartan wanted to be first in, but as he moved he felt something holding him back. It was Sergeant Morato with her armoured hand clamped to his shoulder.
“Where do you think you’re going, Sir?” she asked.
Even in this darkness he could make out her smile through her thickened glass visor. Only a small part was visible as the glass section was just a ribbon across the front of the metal-domed headpiece.
“Where do you think?”
“I don’t think so, Spartan. You’ve already broken regs. We need you here to organise the team. We’ve all trained for this one, just sit back and wait for the medals,” she said as she blew him a kiss from inside the armour.
Spartan looked about, concerned the other marines would notice her actions. Either they hadn’t seen, or they had chosen to pretend not to. Either way Spartan was annoyed, he was a fighter, not a planner and standing about waiting was not the way he liked to fight.
“Let’s go, people! Remember the plan!” Teresa ordered.
Spartan watched as sixteen of the Vanguards stepped inside the narrow tunnel complex, in gro
ups of four. He knew the fire teams were easily able to take care of themselves in the narrow confines underground, but it still left him uneasy being unable to help.
“Sir, anything you want us to do?”
Spartan looked back to the eight marines who were stood waiting.
“Form up in a circle and watch your scanners. In my experience, they always strike when our numbers are smallest.”
The marines, some who were already watching the allocated zones, formed up in a loose and widely space formation, with their weapons facing outwards. Spartan stood in the middle and monitored the movement of the four fire teams making their way into the tunnels. He had already requested the Vanguards be outfitted with cameras and displays in the suits, so the commanders could monitor the movement and actions of other team members. It wasn’t going to happen any time soon, but right now he would have really appreciated it.
“Spartan, we found prisoners!” came the Teresa’s excited voice over the intercom.
Spartan smiled to himself, if anybody was going to find them, he knew she would be the first.
“This area is massive, they must have carved it out with explosives. We are counting thirty people, mostly men and four, maybe five women. We’re leading them out to you now.”
“Excellent, what’s their condition?”
“Not good, their clothes are in rags and they look like they’ve been on rations for a long time...wait...there’s something else...”
Spartan’s heart dropped, in his experience the unknown was rarely good.
“There are bodies here at the end of the room, easily fifty of them. There’s a small amount of stores. They wouldn’t have lasted much longer.”
“Okay, get the survivors back here and bring your team.”
“Roger, we’re coming now.”
Spartan looked at his sensors, tracking the Teresa and her marines as they made their way back. That still left a dozen marines out in the tunnels.
“Sergeant Keller, are you getting this?”
Battle for Proxima Page 2