“Maybe they had help from the inside?” suggested Jesus.
“There must be other ships in the area!” Marcus suggested.
Spartan moved nearer to one of the secondary displays and scrolled though more stories. His heart was pounding because one thing experience had taught him was that when things went wrong, they usually ended up on his lap. On the second screen, he had the official information from Naval Intelligence that confirmed much of what was in the news. It was incredible. He took a few breaths before turning back to Marcus and Teresa. As he started to speak a number of the other recruits crowded in to listen.
“The latest Intel confirms that the fighting on Proxima Prime has expanded to the eleven transit stations and that a full scale rebellion at the Titan Naval Station is underway. One Admiral has either been assassinated or may be involved. The shipyard was hit first, then the garrison. A dozen ships escaped but several warships are unaccounted for and they are holding over one thousand military personnel hostage on the Station.
“What about the civilians?” asked one of the recruits.
“Some managed to escape on freighters and ferry vessels but most are still trapped there.”
“No way, man, no fucking way!” Jesus was watching the burning buildings on the main screen. The volume was turned up so they could hear the story from the reporters at the scene.
“Three hours ago over a dozen co-ordinated attacks in the capital destroyed the parliament building and the central stock exchange. Fires are still burning at the headquarters of the Council Chambers,” said the voice.
“Fuck me, did you see the residential zone?” asked Teresa.
Jesus stepped to one of the small feeds and moved back to the cameras pointing into the residential area. On this part of the city were scores of tower blocks, some reaching nearly two hundred metres tall and featuring beautiful spires pointing up in the sky. One of the buildings was ablaze and the top third of another had collapsed. The ticker along the bottom said over eight hundred people were trapped in the burning building.
As the recruits watched a series of additional explosions ripped across the city as more buildings were hit until columns of smoke and bright flashes could be seen in all directions. Overhead a multitude of rescue craft rushed around, landing on buildings to evacuate people while others were trying to fight the fires.
The door to the room opened and in walked the Drill Sergeant. The recruits all stood to attention though nobody remembered to switch off the displays. He marched in, flanked by two of his men. As he moved along the room he stopped and stared at the displays, the glow of the fires reflecting on his face before he gave a hand gesture to his two marines. They moved forward and deactivated them, throwing the area into silence.
“You have all seen we are in a real situation here. As of one hour ago the insurgents on Proxima Prime announced their intentions to spread a holy war through every moon and colony in the Confederation. So far it has spread to most of the cities on the planet and three Titan Stations, including Titan Naval Station. This is serious shit, if Confed doesn’t respond fast we could be cut off from Proxima Prime and that leaves the civilians completely exposed.”
One of the marines at his side passed him a tablet that was glowing with scrolling data and images. He looked at it and then at the recruits.
“As of fifteen minutes ago Confed military forces have been put on full alert. This policing action has been officially designated a warzone and we are in the damned middle. The Zealots have been declared enemy combatants and we are authorised to use all weapons and forces at our disposal to end this emergency, once and for all! Today is the first day of the Proxima Emergency and we will see it through to the end!”
Several of the recruits cheered but most were silent, waiting for the rest of his news, each convinced that there was something much bigger and much worse waiting for them.
“When you joined most of you were going to end up on the front lines fighting on the northern continent of Prime. It was supposed to be the last stronghold of this bastardised radicalised movement. We’ve been treating this as a glorified policing action to keep the civilians calm and the politicians happy. Bullshit! It hasn’t worked and now it is spreading fast. We were wrong, seriously wrong,” he said ominously.
He started to pace in front of the assembled Marines.
“We should have learnt our lesson from the last war, religion and politics breeds problems. You all know what happened with Carthago and Terra Nova don’t you?”
The recruits fidgeted, uncomfortable at the question and not one lifted their hands. The Drill Instructor looked as though he was about to blow a fuse when Teresa spoke.
“My family are from Carthago, Sir.”
He marched up and stopped directly in front of her, examining her carefully from head to toe.
“Name?”
“Recruit Teresa Morato, Sir!”
“Tell me, what do you know about the last war? Who started it?”
“I, uh, I don’t know, Sir. It was something to do with colonisation of Proxima I think.”
The Drill Instructor appeared to relax slightly in front of the marines.
“Exactly. The problems started when the two largest colonies, the conservative farming planet Carthago and the industrious Terra Nova, disagreed on colonising Proxima. The arguments were long and complicated but it ended with their friends and allies fighting though the System. This has happened many times in the past. The main factions sit back and let their allies do the work until one day, when the tide starts to turn, the two big players have to wade in.”
“Tell me, Recruit Morato. How would you describe Carthago today, after all the years of war and strife?”
“It is a poor planet. Most of the cities were levelled in the Great War and many are still in a bad way. There are frequent terrorist actions and it is the most violent colony outside of the stations around Prometheus.”
“What about religion?”
“Most are underground and meet in secret. The major sects were banned or abandoned the colony during the exodus after the war.”
The Drill Instructor stood upright and looked around the group for anyone else.
“Who has been to Terra Nova?”
Several hands went up and like a lurcher he moved in to one of the nervous looking men at the back.
“Name?”
“Recruit John Jenkins, Sir.”
“You look pretty, you a Doctor or something?” he asked sarcastically.
“My family run a factory on Terra. I studied there before enlisting, Sir.”
The Drill Instructor shook his head in despair.
“Look what my beloved Corps has been forced to turn to. Tell me, Recruit Jenkins, what is Terra Nova like?”
“It is the richest and most cosmopolitan colony in the Confederacy. There are people and money and all kinds of opportunities.”
“Religion?”
“It is practiced but not the same as on Carthago. It is more of a meditation circle or social club on Terra. The old religions of Carthago are thought to be barbaric and ancient, religions for the common, bestial man.”
The Drill Instructor nodded in agreement.
“There you have it. Even today we have different people, different values and religion is at the core. The biggest mistake we made was driving the old religions underground. Now we can see they are stronger, more numerous and violent than before. Look at Terra Nova. Peaceful, soft and rich while the angry and backward world of Carthago continues to rot. This is the world you are about to face. It is cruel and full of intolerance. You will be Marines and you will uphold the traditions and values of the Corps and the Confederacy that thousands died to create. Do you get me?”
“We get you Sir!” came the chorus back to him.