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.