Battle for Proxima

by Michael G. Thomas

  He waited, knowing full well that his next comments would have to be very carefully worded.

  “It is possible to remove the indoctrination part of their programing, so that when they are hatched they are essentially neutral, no different to you or I. They are no different, regarding problem solving or morality, than any man or woman. The first wave of the Biomechs has already been born and they have no programing other than their basic motor skills. There are another few thousand waiting to be hatched on Prometheus, and we have to decide what to do with them.”

  Admiral Jarvis took over. She sensed the mood in the room was already changing.

  “While the General was fighting for his life on Prometheus, a small group of these neutral Biomechs helped his team. Only one survived and it has proved completely loyal and dependable. After speaking with the command staff, and the civilian government in exile, it is our decision to allow these Biomechs the opportunity to redeem their name. Remember, these creatures are newly born and have committed no crime. The creature that helped our people has chosen his own name. This will make it clearer.”

  She finished by pressing a button, altering the video feed of the tanks to a group of Biomechs stood waiting patiently. Each of them wore minimal armour, more clothing than metal, but it made them look more like warriors than bestial monsters. The group of five were similar in height, each roughly three metres tall and big in every direction. The one at the front looked to its side and then towards the camera pointed at him.

  “I Ko’mandor Gun,” he said with a growl, lifting his right arm on which he still carried his multi-barrelled Gatling gun. He then turned to those stood next to him.

  “These are my Jötnar brothers. We pledge service to Confederacy,” he said sternly.

  The room erupted as the military personnel started chatting and shouting at the news. It was the first time many of them had heard a Biomech make a sound and the first time any had heard one speak. The ramifications of these abilities were only just starting to dawn on them.

  “I know this will be hard for some of you to understand. We have Biomechs in our midst who speak to us and offer friendship. The Confederacy has been weakened, almost crippled, and the war has cost us dearly. Ko’mandor Gun has already proved his worth. We owe the capture of Prometheus to him and the sacrifices of his people. We have agreed to a deal with the Jötnar, their preferred name. In exchange for fighting alongside us, we will grant them a colony and citizenship in the new Confederacy.”

  The room once again exploded into shouting and it became impossible to hear the sound from the monitors. Marcus pulled himself close to Spartan.

  “I told you they would never go for it. Biomechs fighting alongside us! Most people will see this as a betrayal.”

  “Then it is our job to show them they are wrong,” replied Spartan.

  Lieutenant Colonel Blake lifted his hand for quiet.

  “Please control yourselves!” he snapped, the room quickly fell silent. On the screen, the General was talking but they had already missed the first part of whatever he had been saying.

  “...will be a hard campaign to clear every single colony of the taint of the Union. We will not just be fighting to defeat military forces in our homes, we will force them out forever. From the moment we start combat operations, this offensive will not stop until victory is ours. The Jötnar have been formed into two new combat battalions and have been placed under the command of Marine Corps officers. They will assist in heavy assault operations, as and when they are required. Return to your units and ensure they are fully combat effective. I want all platoons ready for immediate operations with six hours notice. Weapons, armour and vehicles need to be in first class condition. Your ship and unit commanders already have their orders and this will be passed down as required. This campaign will be long and it will be hard, but we will not stop until we are victorious!”

  The General lifted up his arm as he finished his speech. The microphone easily picked up the applause he was receiving, presumably from on board the flagship where the footage was being recorded. The camera footage pulled back to show at least thirty people in the foreground clapping. The display faded back to the Confederate Military motif and lights in the room slowly increased in brightness. Lieutenant Colonel Blake turned to the assembled group and the hum of chatter quickly softened until he was greeted with silence.

  “Thank you. As you have probably gathered, this message is one of the most important you will have ever seen. The strategic situation has changed and so must we, if we are to turn back this genocidal assault on our way of life. The message is being relayed to every Confed ship and military base in the Proxima System. It reminds us that the civilian government structure is in place and has the potential to be stronger than ever before. We are not just a fleet. We are a moving Confederacy. Where we go, the Confederacy goes and with us we spread out values and ideas of the rights and responsibilities of our citizens. The battle plan laid out by General Rivers is complex and will not be easy. I have no doubts that this battalion will be responsible for some of the toughest missions. After all, that is what we are for. We are always first into trouble and the last back out. Prepare your units for assault operations. We can expect to be hitting ships, stations or planets in days, perhaps even hours. Make sure your people are fully competent and ready. We are massively outnumbered, but our single advantage is experience. We have better trained and more experienced marines and soldiers, than any unit in the Union. Dismissed!”

  Some of the officers started to file out of the room. Spartan and a few others stayed, each looking carefully at the data and reports coming in on the large screens. Marcus looked over to Spartan, nodding his head in agreement, presumably with the announced plan.

  “Looks like we’re going to war then. Operation Perdition has a nasty ring to it. I assume that was Rivers’ idea to scare the crap out of the enemy. I just hope he wasn’t planning on doing the same for our people.”

  “Maybe, or perhaps Rivers knows exactly the kind of bloody campaign this is really going to be. You remember what it was like on Prime. They don’t give up and they have numbers and industrial capacity on their side,” replied Spartan grimly.

  * * *

  Spartan and Teresa sat relaxing in the soft couches in the ship’s recreation room. It was a spacious area and over a dozen marines were sat relaxing or playing games on the various computer systems. There was a pool table in the middle of the room. It was much like a traditional table, but the balls were sealed inside and struck with shortened cues that moved the balls when they reached a few millimetres from their targets. It was beautifully constructed and balanced so that the game could be played with or without gravity, even when the engines were on full burn. On the outside it appeared impossible, but in reality the balls were held in place by magnets and the system was managed by a detailed and responsive computer system.

  Sergeant Lovett and Keller were busy playing on it. The sound of the wooden cues almost striking the balls sent the occasional tapping sound throughout the room.

  “You’re going down, old man!” whispered Marcus to his opponent, whilst tapping one of the balls gently.

  Spartan turned from watching them and back to Teresa.

  “Have you heard from your friends on Prometheus? Bishop, Kowalski or Anderson?”

  “Not for a while now. I guess they are all busy working on the tech in the base. Last time I spoke with Anderson, he was still working on the Biomechs. Apparently Gun had been causing a bit of trouble.”

  “A problem?”

  “No, not that kind of trouble. It was about a weapon or something. Anderson wanted to examine it, Gun wanted it for himself to use. You know what he’s like, he does like his guns and knives!”

  Spartan laughed though not as loudly as she was used to. It was as if his mind was elsewhere, not really on this conversation.

  “What’s up?”

  “Nothing.”

  She reached out and touched his arm. “Co
me on, I’m not stupid, tell me.”

  “Something isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but the enemy, their plans and their people. It just doesn’t seem to fit together. On one hand you have the religious insurgents, like those we fought on the Naval Station. Then we found ourselves up against the Biomechs and some of the religious organisations on Kerberos.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  “Well, what is the point? What are these groups after and why are they working together? Then, there is this group known as the Core. What kind of name is that? They must be the people who have been sending the control data to the AI hubs in the factories and some of the ships. It’s a clever way of running things, without ever having to be in the same system. I still don’t see why though, what do they get?”

  “You’ve seen the news reports from the colonies. Those that have seceded seem to be quite happy to be members of the Echidna Union. You have to admit, their offerings are attractive.”

  Spartan looked less than impressed.

  “You saw the transmission from the Admiral. The civilians aren’t happy, how could they be? Working, eating and then death! What about ambition, politics, even competition? That broadcast confirmed the entire political system has been removed. Now they have Colony officials, all appointed by Typhon and his cronies. I just don’t get the point of it all. Is it simply a play for the Church to take over everything?”

  “Don’t forget the signals and the AI units. Typhon wasn’t just giving orders, he was receiving them from the Core, whatever it is.”

  Captain Daniels entered the room, accompanied by a small group of his marines. They wandered over and started chatting to Marcus who was still playing pool. He looked about until he could see Spartan sat in the corner.

  “He looks serious,” said Teresa, as she watched the officer approach, they both made to stand up.

  “Yeah, he does.”

  Captain Daniels beckoned them to sit. Spartan nodded and indicated to his side.

  “You look more worried than I am, what’s up?”

  Captain Daniels sat down, handing Spartan a datapad with a series of maps and charts for the Fleet disposition.

  “The announcement from the Admiral about the new campaign and this new strategy. If you look at the numbers, you can see we are up against it. They have more men, more weapons and more resources. There is even a chance they have enough ships already built to match us, I guess we’ll find out about that soon enough.”

  “You’re right, but that isn’t what’s got you bothered, is it?”

  “True. It’s the strategy that is getting me. I’ve been double-checking the intelligence you brought back from the Bone Mill. I’ve been looking over your report, as well as the information you recovered on Prometheus. What gets me isn’t the Biomechs, or even the Zealots, it is the one thing that keeps popping up time and time again.”

  “The Core?” asked Teresa.

  “Exactly!” replied Captain Daniels with a grin.

  “This Core faction seems to be the real enemy, the one pulling the strings and the one that seems to always be one step ahead.”

  Spartan nodded in agreement. “Yes, I’ve been thinking the same.”

  Captain Daniels scratched his chin and gave the impression he was trying to find a way to raise a particular point. Spartan took in a deep breath, expecting the worst.

  “I’m considering asking the Colonel permission to assemble a small team, perhaps a single company and a frigate, to head through the Anomaly to investigate. My guess is this faction is hiding under our noses, maybe just a single ship on the other side. If we could take out the Core, we would be left with a mess of an enemy with no clear leadership.”

  “Surely they will have just general orders though, otherwise they would never be able to function, except with commands from elsewhere?” asked Teresa.

  “Yes, that is true. But if we remove their top-level command structure, they will lose much of their ability to network and co-ordinate. It could give us the edge we need in this campaign and might even allow us the opportunity to take on their forces piecemeal. My question is, are you in? If I can get the go-ahead from the Colonel, I will need an ad-hoc company and I’d like your platoon to be part of the mission.”

  Spartan looked to Teresa who was already nodding before looking back at the Captain.

  “Of course. I trust your judgement. If you want my platoon, you have it. Don’t we already have ships on the way to the Anomaly? Can’t they send scouts to investigate?”

  “They could, but that is not what I’m talking about. My plan is for a flexible strike team that can raid deep into the System, track the signal and disable it somehow.”

  Teresa didn’t look particularly impressed with the idea.

  “I don’t understand. We have the name and some pretty wild intel that suggests something on the other side of the Anomaly is sending signals. What if it is a battleship...or a moon? We could waste weeks getting our people through and for nothing. I get the impression this campaign will start in days. The mission wouldn’t even make it halfway to the Anomaly by then.”

  “Nice to see you speaking your mind, Sergeant,” replied the Captain sarcastically and for a moment Spartan wasn’t quite sure he was serious.

  “On our present course, we have already shaved almost a week off the route to the Anomaly. With hard acceleration, one ship could do the trip in a few weeks. Yes, the campaign will probably be well underway, but even if we hit it halfway in it could make a big difference.”

  “Okay, I can see what you’re getting at. By all means start working on the mission, but in my opinion we should use the forces due to arrive in the next day or so and get them to scout ahead. If it is a small target, they can send fighters or frigates in to do the work. If it is bigger, then we’ll need more than a company anyway.”

  “Fair enough. I’ll put the information on the Boss’ table and see what he thinks.”

  “I’ll ensure they’re ready, whatever operation you have in mind. Good luck selling the idea to the Lieutenant Colonel. I’ve heard he is a real hard case and he isn’t the Vanguards’ biggest fan.”

  Captain Daniels stood up and indicated to his NCOs that it was time for them to leave.

  “Don’t worry about it, Spartan. I know you are the king of pissing people off. I’ll persuade him one way or the other!”

  * * *

  Admiral Jarvis left the briefing room first. A small group quickly followed her, including the new President and General Rivers. They walked briskly, moving fast to avoid the cadre of press and lower ranks waiting to ask a question. General Rivers pushed ahead until he was walking alongside her.

  “General, the CiC, we have things to discuss,” she said curtly. It was in such a tone that he immediately knew that there was to be no further discussion until their arrival.

  The corridors on the warship were quite narrow and big enough only for three people to move along at a time. The briefing room was only a hundred metres away from the CiC that was buried in the heart of the ship and behind the thickest armour. Contrary to what most people expected, it couldn’t be placed directly in the centre of the ship, as this would put them in an artificial gravity part of the vessel. Instead, the command sections of the ship were enclosed in a large rotating cylinder inside the triple-layered skin. The only visible difference on the exterior of the ship was that this part was slighter wider to accommodate the extra layers of armour.

  The group approached an airlock seal that was being kept open by a marine guard. The Admiral stepped though first and turned immediately into the CiC. The command staff were already busy, as always. She marched in, walking directly to her strategic map in the middle of the open space. General Rivers and the rest of the group followed and stood around the map.

  “Before I go over the details for the operation, there is one critical area we have to discuss.”

  “The synthetic life technology?” asked Dr Hamis.

  “Quite. The ability to
create life, even that as crude as the Biomechs, could be the greatest gift and weapons ever bestowed on humanity.”

  “I agree. With it, we have the ability to grow adults at an accelerated pace. To create warriors when needed, or even a completely functional labouring class for the Confederacy. The moral and ethical dilemmas created by this technology are unparalleled.”

  “I take it you would rather I didn’t give the order to destroy all research or equipment then?” asked General Rivers.

  They turned and looked at him, astounded by his comments, before realising his was being sarcastic.

  “I suggest you secure the equipment and data and we will revisit this topic at the conclusion of Operation Perdition. Acceptable?” asked Dr Hamis.

  General Rivers looked over to Admiral Jarvis who gave him the nod.

  “Just remember, Mr President, if the war turns against us we might have to revisit this topic earlier than you intended.”

  Dr Hamis nodded slowly in agreement.

  “I understand. Let us hope for all our sakes that it will not be necessary.”