Erdeniz was still confused and didn’t fully understand what the man was saying but at least it didn’t sound like he’d done something bad.
“Now, get a little rest, I will send somebody along later to check on you. Good job!”
Returning his hat to his head he exited the room smartly and closed the door behind him.
* * *
General Rivers approached the waiting marines in the main hall of the Santa Maria.
“As Commander of the 6th Marine Regiment I have been given command of the ground element of the operation to retake control of all the stations around Prime.”
On the screen in front of the assembled marines he brought up the massive Titan Naval Station that was built into the largest of Prime’s moons.
“As you can see, the Station is well guarded by the Battleship Victorious and the crippled Resolution. We cannot even consider an operation to take the Station until these vessels have been eliminated.”
Hitting a button the image changed to an aerial view of the plan.
“The Fleet will split into three squadrons, the first two will move in and take control of the eight transit stations and hopefully draw some of the vessels away from Titan Naval Yard. Each of these stations is small, some are simple docks and shipyards, others are used to move civilian traffic. We need to take them all back and fast. By hitting them simultaneously, the enemy will not be able to reinforce each other. A single group will then move in to engage the battleship as the commando unit heads to the naval yard eliminating the main guns. Once the primary defences are down we will move in and launch a coordinated assault on the Station itself. This is where you come in.” He pointed to the assembled men and women.
“If we cannot stop this warship the entire operation will be called off. I cannot stress to you how important it is that we succeed. We have the best ships for this part of the mission and I have no doubt we will be successful. The real crux of the operation will rest on the regiment’s task of capturing Titan Naval Station. The Station is operating at one quarter normal gravity and looks like the toughest assignment I have seen in my years in the marines.”
“This unit has been tasked with the most dangerous mission of all and I will not hide from you the difficulties you face. I will say that it is a testament to your training and skill that this ship has been chosen to lead the attack. As the rest of the Fleet engages the enemy, you will spearhead an overwhelming assault on the Station itself. Each platoon has specific objectives including securing the dock and shipyards. Those who have completed the commando training will join the team that will move into the command areas and secure the guns prior to the arrival of the marine transports. The main assault cannot go ahead until the guns are silenced. Small landing craft are fast enough to hopefully make it but our larger transports will be turned to dust before they reach five kilometres from their objectives.”
The officer turned to the marines, noting their eagerness to get stuck in.
“I know your training has been cut short but from the reports I’ve seen you are in the best shape we could hope for. You are fit, equipped and ready to do your job. Under normal circumstances we would wait but this situation is spiralling out of control. We have support from the gunboats of Wasp and this should be enough to provide adequate cover to get inside. Your squad leaders have their specific plans, please get a few hours rest, contact your loved ones, do whatever you damned please just be in the shuttle bays and ready for combat operation in four hours. Good luck, marines!”
As the marines were dismissed, Spartan and his group moved to the side of the area. Have you checked the boards? Which group are we going in with?” he asked.
“No idea, come on, let’s find out!” Teresa said as she ran off to the end of the hall where a large screen showed the roster and the combat teams. There were dozens of them, each assigned certain equipment and shuttles for their missions.
“Yeah, here we are!” shouted Jesus.
“What is this?” Marcus looked less than impressed.
Spartan stepped in closer, reading the board. Next to their names and half of their platoon was the assignment to the Commando Support Group.
“Support Group? What kind of gay shit is this?”
“You can be such an idiot, Marcus!” Teresa was reading the board.
“Teresa is right, Marcus, the CSG is part of the Commando Team that is going for the hostages. The support group’s job is to provide fire support and assistance as required. This is the highest you can get on your first mission,” said Spartan.
“We’d better go and get ready then, we need to meet the Commando Team and go over the mission before we board.”
“Yeah,” added Jesus as he made his way to his quarters.
Spartan turned to head off but Teresa grabbed his shoulder, turning him back around. “How long do we have?” she asked placing a special emphasis on the word ‘we’.
Spartan looked up at the clock and back at her. “I think we can manage thirty minutes.”
“Thirty minutes, hmm,” she said with a grin. “Yeah, I think that will work!”
Pulling his arm Teresa dragged Spartan off down the corridor and towards her quarters, much to the amusement of the rest of the squad.
* * *
Over half of the Fleet had already moved off leaving the battlecruiser CCS Crusader, the Santa Maria and a small number of cruisers, destroyers and gunboats in reserve. This strike force was the main force designated for the attack on Titan Naval Station and though it looked formidable to Admiral Jarvis it was a fraction of what she wanted for such a risky operation. Along the gun decks of the warship the gun ports were all open and the weapon system of each ship was ready for action.
In the Combat Information Centre of the CCS Crusader, General Rivers and Admiral Jarvis poured over the latest report on the operation. Most of the officers had now gone and there were less than a dozen people in the room, all of which were working through screens of information and managing the large collection of vessels.
Lieutenant Nilsson, a dark brown haired officer with distinctive, green-flecked brown eyes turned from her communications desk.
“Admiral, I’m receiving urgent messages from Titan Naval Station, the insurgents are calling for assistance from their comrades. Shall I jam their communications?”
“Negative, we need to split them off as much as we can, let the message through.”
The Lieutenant turned back to her display and continued to monitor communication between the ships. On the main three-dimensional tactical map the Admiral followed the open stages of the operation. They were only four hours in and the first wave were in battle around half of the small stations.
“Reports from Bunker Hill say that all five transports have started their ground assault. So far they have taken thirty-seven casualties and now have control of two stations. Resistance is stronger than expected but they are making solid progress. Captain Jones estimates around three hours to capture the remainder of the stations.”
“Good, that is a very good start,” replied the Admiral. She turned and looked at the tactical display, watching the movement of the vessels in orbit.
“Any news on Titan Naval Station, any movement?”
Lieutenant Nilsson connected to her opposite numbers on the other vessels, quickly collating data. “Negative, no movement on the vessels guarding the Station.”
“As expected, they are waiting for our main strike.” The Admiral picked up the intercom. “Captain Matthias, are your ships ready?”
“Affirmative, Ajax, Hector and Achilles are in position and weapons batteries are charged and ready.”
“Good work, Captain, send in your cruiser wing to Titan Naval Station immediately, we need to let them think this is the main attack. Pray to the gods that they take the bait and engage your forces. Do not leave the area until you have taken fire. I know this is a big request but I need you to take enough fire to warrant a withdrawal, make it look good, Captain.”
There was a brief pause before the Captain of the cruiser group returned.
“Understood, Admiral, we will put on a good show. We won’t leave the area until they think they are winning.”
“God speed, Captain,” said the Admiral replacing the intercom. General Rivers turned to her.
“If they are ready when we jump in we’ll face their full numbers before we can bring our guns to bear. We need to be patient, every minute we can add to their return trip will give us just that bit of extra time to deal with Victorious.”
“I understand, General, and I am aware of the difficulty your troops are facing on the stations. We will move in as soon as I am confident we have a chance of breaking through.”
The massive battlecruiser rumbled and a series of vibrations rattled through the warship. General Rivers turned to Lieutenant Nilsson who was evidently concerned.
“It’s the forward gun batteries, they are charging up their capacitors prior to battle. We can’t charge up all the batteries at once, not even on this ship,” he said with a stern grin.
The Admiral moved past the General, facing the communications officer.
“Lieutenant Nilsson, can you put me on the battlegroup’s intercom, it is speech time,” she said with as much humour as she could muster in such a serious situation.
“This is Admiral Jarvis. Approximately one hour ago elements of our task force began the first stages in the operation to retake the transit stations orbiting Proxima Prime. Our battlegroup, spearheaded by Crusader, will start our attack in less than ninety minutes. All medical teams are to report to their sections, marines will prepare to repel boarders and all gunners please check and recheck your weapons. This will be the first capital ship engagement since the Great War and if it is anything like historic encounters, we can expect heavy damage and casualties on both sides. Admiral Jarvis, out.”
She replaced the intercom and turned back to the tactical map. The display showed two-dozen vessels in position near the outer ring of stations around the planet. Several faster colours indicated the gunboats from the carrier Wasp. It was their job to provide cover from any potential attacks by smaller vessels. She turned back to the General.
“If for any reason we are unable to regain control of the Station I have been given full authorisation to neutralise Titan Naval Station and every soul on it. Her face showed that this wasn’t an option she really wanted to consider.
“Destroy the Station, do we even have the firepower to do that?”
“I have asked our engineers to run simulations and all they can tell me is that if we can mass all of our firepower on the Station we can render it useless after about sixty minutes of continuous bombardment. We can’t do anything more than make it unsuitable for life, General.”
“Perhaps if I could get commandos onto the Station they could place a number of thermite plasma charges at key locations and do the same job. It won’t be pretty, Admiral, but if the Crusader is busy we might not have the luxury of turning all the guns on the Station. What about the hostages?”
“We are to rescue them of course, unless this puts the Fleet in a position whereby we cannot end this revolt. Either way the capture of Titan Naval Station will be resolved, one way or the other,” she said as she turned back to the displays.
* * *
Spartan and Teresa were both laid out and relaxed. Spartan held a bottle of water in one hand as Teresa sat looking out of the projection window at the Fleet. With their gun ports open the ships looked much rougher than normal, it was a sight she had not seen before. Between the capital ships the gunboats and shuttles moved back and forth, ferrying people and weapons prior to the battle. The Crusader was a sight to behold and she couldn’t imagine any vessel being able to stand up to her bulk. She was mesmerised by the rotating bands that ran the length of the ship, each one bristling with open ports and slowing the ship to fire in any direction from above or below or front port or stern. The weakest section in terms of firepower was the bow and stern where the warship was fitted with just a single weapon battery, much like a bow chaser on an old-fashioned tall ship.
“How can any ship stop the Crusader? Just look at her, Spartan,” she said as she stared at the majestic shape of the battlecruiser.
Spartan rolled over, looking out at the massive warship.
“She is impressive but from what I’ve been reading so is the Victorious. That old warship was actually involved in the Great War. She is responsible for the crippling of two other battleships and even survived a ramming by a cruiser. All of the advantages of the Crusader are going to be wasted in this battle. She has lighter armour, the same weapons and the only real improvement is the better engines. On paper I’d give the edge to Victorious,” he said with a hint of regret.
“You’re assuming that they even know how to operate the ship or have enough crew to man her.”
“True, but you’re also assuming that none of the crew had a hand in the takeover to start with. If that’s so then we could be about to attack an experienced and prepared battleship,” he said as he sat up and rubbed his eyes. “I just hope the Intel guys have done their homework,” he sighed.
The two pulled on their fatigues in silence as they considered the current operation and the part they had yet to play. Their clothes were scattered around the berth and it took them a few minutes to get ready. Teresa moved closely to Spartan, looking carefully at his face.
“Don’t do anything stupid now, I would like to see you come back,” she said with a smile.
“No problem, I have absolutely no intention of letting some religious crazy get in my way, you just watch yourself. We have unfinished business!” he said as he swung himself out of the room and into the corridor.
It didn’t take long and they were soon moving down the main corridor where scores of other marines were collecting their gear and boarding their craft. Marcus and Jesus along with another eight marines were waiting in a group at the far right, separate to the rest of them. Spartan and Teresa moved over. Most of them were wearing their full PDS gear and the rest were in the process of fitting on their armour and checking their weapons for the hundredth time.
“We’re supposed to wait here for Colonel West. He’s leading the commando operation. You ever met the guy?” asked Marcus.
“Nope, never heard of him,” answered Teresa.
“You have now,” said a short, scrawny looking man who appeared behind Spartan.
The man stood with a group of a dozen similar looking men and one woman. Though they wore normal Personal Defence Suits, they had a slightly different camouflage pattern to the rest of the marines and their equipment was certainly older and well used. The officer stepped forward and shook each of their hands.
“This is my team, I take it you’ve gone over the mission briefing. Normally we wouldn’t take newbies on a first mission but our numbers are small and we need every man we can get. We will go in first, you’ll provide backup and a tactical reserve. This doesn’t mean you’ll be sitting back in the shuttles, you are just as important as the rest of the unit. Stay together and keep an eye on the guy next to you.” He looked around the group of fresh marines.
The tannoy system blared loudly across the ship.
“All units to your posts, we are loading the shuttles. I repeat, all to their station, it is not a drill!” came the order and it was repeated over and over.
“Let’s go!” The Colonel shouted as his team moved down the shaft and towards the waiting shuttles.
As they moved off Spartan lifted his hand and smacked his hand onto Teresa’s outstretched palm.
“Good luck!” she said.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Though not the most famous, the CCS Invincible was a ship with a history that was unique to any other vessel in the Fleet. During the Great War she was the last battleship to engage another battleship in open battle. Most engagements were fought by carriers and cruisers, but by a chance encounter she had run into the rebel warship, the Redoubtable
. This battle between two equals has been studied for generations, as to the power and the futility of putting two such behemoths against each other. After more than twenty hours of continuous battle and over twelve thousand casualties there was still no victor. Both vessels were quickly disabled and unable to leave the area and neither captain would surrender his vessel. It wasn’t until the arrival of the fourteen ships of the Kerberos Squadron that the battle could be decided. Five of those ships were also lost until the Redoubtable was finally destroyed.
The shattered but still operational hulk of the CCS Invincible and the remnants of the Kerberos Squadron were present at the signing of the armistice. The old ship is a relic of the Great War and is still moored at the Fleet Headquarters in Alpha Centauri. A visit to the ship is part of the required training for all naval cadets.
Ships of the Interstellar Navy
In the Combat Information Centre of the CCS Crusader it was decision time and the Admiral and her staff were getting nervous. As every minute passed the chances of a decisive and relatively bloodless conclusion slipped away. From inside the bustling room a dozen officers moved back and forth, updating the tactical display and co-ordinating actions between the numerous ships involved in the battle. Hundreds of officers both on the ground and aboard the myriad of vessels involved in the operation did their best to keep everything moving smoothly.
The ground assault on the smaller manmade stations had now been raging for over two hours and there were no signs that the rest of the transit stations would be falling anytime soon. Though much smaller than the massive Titan Naval Station, each was the home to hundreds or thousands of people and couldn’t be simply destroyed from orbit. The stations circled the planet of Prime at different altitudes with the most remote being hundreds of kilometres from the planet. They offered a variety of landing platforms, refineries, ports and shipyards for Prime. Though Titan Naval Station was massive, most of the inhabited areas were situated on the nearside of the moon that faced Prime. The bulk of the population was clustered around the civilian port and naval yard.
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