The nearest gunboat travelled a little further ahead and its weapon pods activated, each one sending clouds of tiny flechette rounds into space that tore the incoming fire to dust. If they had been in atmospheric flight the sounds of weapons fire would have been deafening. But in the silent vacuum of space though there was nothing, just the vibration of the weapons fitted to the ships and the continuous sparks and flashing of them blasting away.
More holes and sparks tore down the left side of the gunboat and then a massive blast tore away one of the thrusters and sent it drifting away from the shuttles.
“Did you see that?” Teresa shouted but her voice was wasted as the intercom system lowered the volume through the built in headsets.
Spartan nodded but he was feeling less confident about this assault by the minute. The small group of craft were less than a kilometre from the Station and as they turned a little to the left Spartan was granted the perfect view of their target. At first it looked like any other moon. It was large and every part of its surface covered in structures, buildings, gantries and shipyards. It served as a colony, naval base, military barracks and transportation hub. Large parts of the colony were burning, presumably from the initial uprising and suicide attacks he had heard about on the news channels. As he watched, he noticed a streak of yellow from several sections of the surface. He squinted, trying to work out what they were before realising they were moving and heading towards them. He turned to warn Teresa but it all happened too fast. As the cloud of incoming fire bounced off the shuttle, the gunboat swung back to rejoin the formation. More fire clattered around both craft and then with a mighty orange flash the gunboat disappeared in a fireball that showered the shuttle with debris and sparks. Spartan was torn from his harness and thrown across the deck against the wall. As soon as his helmet hit the wall he was knocked out cold and slid down to the floor.
Teresa unbuckled herself and crawled along the floor to the unconscious Spartan, the buffeting shuttle shaking her about. More projectiles struck the craft and as she reached out to him three bullets tore through the hull and ripped through her right arm. The velocity of the rounds spun her around and she reached out, grabbing the harness with her left arm.
Marcus spotted the trouble and with great difficulty managed to drag himself over to Teresa. He pulled a sealant pack from the wall and carefully managed to clamp it over the wounded area and the shattered armour. It automatically sealed the gaps and re-pressurised her suit.
“Medic!” he shouted before Teresa really started to feel the pain.
CHAPTER EIGHT
The most famous incident that involved the IMC was the defence of the Confederation Council during the uprising on a desert platform on the planet of Kerberos. The situation was initiated following a trade dispute between a mining company and a transportation guild. During negotiations representatives from the guild brought over four hundred mercenaries from the Rim to capture the Council’s delegation. A single platoon from the warship Spiteful defended the council members until radio contact was lost. When reinforcements arrived, it took them over an hour to work through the bodies of two hundred and twelve mercenaries until they found the bodies of the marines in the main chambers, surrounding the dead council members. It was a terrible loss for the Corps but a day that the Sixth Marine Company has honoured every year since the action. It was from this battle that the elite Guards unit was created with the very role of protecting Confederation officials.
Great Battles of the Confederate Marine Corps
At a distance from the Titan Naval Station, the bloodiest space battle in generations had been continuing for almost half an hour. The massive hulks of the old battleship CCS Victorious and the battlecruiser CCS Crusader had slowed down and were engaged in an epic duel of broadsides. Standing at a distance of several kilometres apart there was almost no chance of their weapons missing and each deadly volley killed scores of crew and smashed great chunks out of the flanks of the vessels. Both ships were trailing debris and fire could be seen at various points in their superstructures but that wasn’t anywhere near enough to stop them fighting. The CCS Crusader had placed herself carefully between the enemy vessel and the Titan Naval Station. Her powerful engines and improved mobility over the heavier, slower battleship allowed her to maintain this position, effectively blocking much of the marine assault group that was making its way to the moon.
In the Combat Information Centre, Admiral Jarvis examined the engineering displays as the battle continued around her. Every few moments she lifted her eyes to examine her deadly foe on the projection display on the main wall. By a simple piece of engineering the external camera feeds could recreate the bridge windows from within the armoured safety of the centre deep inside the ship, and it gave the impression she was actually on the bridge of the ship. The damage reports and casualty figures were astounding but so far the newest capital ship in the fleet was doing her job. General Rivers had already left the ship and transferred to the Santa Maria to help conduct the action against Titan Naval Station. Stood next to her was Commander Anderson, her executive officer.
“Admiral, we’ve taken heavy damage but all our systems are still operational. We are matched in armour and weaponry but we’re still not using our trump card, our speed,” he said.
“I know, Commander. But we have to keep all of her attention away from the Station though. As soon as General Rivers confirms the commandos’ mission, we can reconsider our options here.”
“What if we could damage her engines or at the very least reduce her ability to manoeuvre?”
“Like the Bismarck? Yes, I see what you are thinking. She was one of the German Navy’s key battleships in the Second World War. Antiquated aircraft damaged her steering, and that made her vulnerable to attack by other warships who then sank her. See what you can do, Commander, in the meantime I want every gun turned to her decks. Smash her!” she ordered.
“Admiral,” The officer replied before returning to the tactical display.
“Lieutenant Nilsson, put me through to General Rivers.”
“Yes, Sir.”
The connection was almost instant and a pang of pride made her pause for a moment as she considered the speed and quality of her crew. Under no circumstances would she simply throw away this ship and her crew.
“General Rivers, I need an update on your operation, are we on schedule?” she asked.
There was a short delay before the crackling reply came back.
“Admiral, we have started the commando operation. The first landing craft have arrived at the Station and is under very heavy fire,” explained the General.
The loading ring on the Station was littered with debris as the first two platoons of commandos exited their damaged and scarred landing craft. Marcus and another of the commandos helped pulled Spartan and Teresa into cover next to the landing craft before fanning out with the rest of the unit to secure the landing zone. Only two craft had landed so far, the amount of defensive fire having forced the next wave of two craft to redirect to a landing zone almost a kilometre away from where they had landed. The skill of the pilots was exceptional though and the fact they had managed to land at such high speed, and in once piece, was a testament to their training. The moon had a low level of gravity and a thin atmosphere that required the use of respirators at the very minimum. Not that any of this was a problem for the marines who had training in a variety of gravity scenarios.