old warship. A bright glow about a hundred metres from the stern of the battleship indicated the overloaded power core exploding. It was less than she expected but the results were exactly what she needed. Part of the hull tore away and the fires became worse as ammunition supplies and coolant mixed together. More explosions rocked the length of the ship, but no lifeboats were launched and no guns fired. The ship was far from destroyed, but she drifted like an ancient hulk with no signs of power or life to be seen.
“She’s dead in space and still they won’t leave her.” The Admiral said quietly to herself.
Her XO stepped up, examining the tactical display. “It looks like the bulk of her crew are moving to this area on the ship, what do you think it is, some kind of escape vessel?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” replied the Admiral as she watched the screens. “Orbit at one hundred kilometres and load the guns, if she tries anything I want her finished, once and for all!”
CHAPTER TEN
The formation of the Zealots can be traced directly back to the great exodus of peoples following the Great War. What started as a political dispute quickly spread to trade and religion and involved every faction, company and colony. With the signing of the armistice and the formation of the Confederacy, many of the more extreme religious movements were forced to the frontiers or newly colonised planets. Though there was no official persecution there were many citizens who blamed religious groups for the violence in the later stages of the war. It was these disparate groups that found work in the quiet, dark places of the Confederation.
Origins of the Zealots
Spartan was absolutely exhausted. Every muscle in his body ached and his brain was pounding from the constant exertion and stress of the assault on Titan Naval Station. In the sealed environment of the shuttle, he could at least relax, but being strapped down into his seat was not ideal. Next to him was Jesus whilst Teresa was at the rear of the craft being tended by two of the onboard medics. Apparently, her injuries were serious but not critical. It was important however for them to remove her battle-damaged armour and attend to the wound directly. The emergency aid she had received during the battle had kept her in the fight but it was no substitute for actual medical care. From his view through the small windows on the flanks of the craft he could see the flickering lights of fires and explosions that were rattling through the hull of the battleship. News of the boarding actions and her crippling had spread through the boats and ships of the Fleet quickly as expected. As he watched the dying vessel in the far distance, he pulled himself back at the sight of the bright hull of the CCS Santa Maria. He had been so transfixed on the fires that the marine transport had almost appeared out of nowhere.
“Sergeant, we have an urgent transmission from Captain Mathews for you,” came a voice over the boat’s loudspeaker system.
“When it rains it pours, man!” said Jesus with a mischievous look.
Spartan leaned to his side and hit a button on the seat that activated the microphone system. He looked about the shuttlecraft, the eighteen marines were all part of the unit that had just escaped from the Station. Most had removed at least part of their armour but two still kept their helmets on, either because they were too tired and possibly because of the everlasting fear of all spacecraft-based infantry that they might end up in a vacuum without their sealed suits. The normally clean camouflaged armour they each wore was now scratched and burnt and many had streaks of blood from the battle on the moon.
“Captain Mathews, you’re on loudspeaker. Are you onboard the Santa Maria?” he asked. There was a short pause before the speaker crackled and the Captain’s familiar voice filled the craft.
“We’re here, Sergeant, a damned fine piece of soldering there. The figures coming in are impressive, a lot of good people were saved down there,” he said.
“A lot didn’t make it back as well, Sir,” replied Spartan.
“Very true and nobody will forget that, trust me. That is going to have to wait though. Right now I have an urgent job for your team and you’re not going to like it,” answered the Captain.
Jesus looked at Spartan and then back to the small number of sore and tired marines that were scattered about the craft. Some were injured, but none too seriously. They all looked like they could fall asleep at any moment.
“We’re ready, what’s the problem, Sir?” Spartan asked but he hesitated, almost not wanting to know what it was.
“A transport has managed to escape from the Victorious and was trying to make a dash out of the System. The Crusader was already moving away from the danger zone when she was spotted. Gunboats from CCS Wasp have already disabled her engines but she’s now drifting towards Prime. With no propulsions, she can’t pull away from the gravitational pull. We were going to leave her to burn up in the atmosphere, but we’re picking up a large number of life signs on board. I know it’s a risk but we can’t take the chance until we know who is on board,” he said.
“Zealots?” asked Jesus.
“Maybe, we estimate thirty to forty people and as far as we can tell they are the only people to make if off the Victorious.”
“Interesting, it could be their command crew, maybe even senior members of the Zealots,” Spartan said thoughtfully.
“Perhaps, Sergeant. But it could also be another hostage situation or even worse, some kind of a trap. I know your people have been through a lot but you’re the last shuttle to get back. It will take another thirty minutes for us to get anybody else to the vessel. According to the computers, they will hit the atmosphere at about the same time. Your shuttle could do it in eight.”
“Understood, we’ll be there, Sir,” Spartan answered.
“Thank you. Watch your backs and get back quickly. Spartan, when you’re finished meet me on the Santa Maria, we have other business to discuss,” he said before leaving.
Spartan was surprised by the last part of the message but the operation came first. He turned to the rest of the marines who had overheard the entire conversation. Two of the commandos were already loading rounds into their magazines.
“I know this is above and beyond, men.”
“Not a problem,” said one.
“Yeah, not like we’ve got anything else to do!” said another with a laugh.
“Ok, Jesus, can you get a tactical display up here so we can see what we’re up against?” he asked.
Without getting up, Jesus took a computer tablet from the side of his seat and patched into the shuttle’s systems. In just a few moments he brought up a three-dimensional model on the forward wall.
“Yeah, its a standard T9 armoured transport, the same kind of boat we use for transporting marines. It does look as if it’s had some modifications,” he said as he skimmed across its outline.
“What’s that on the front?” asked one of the marines.
Spartan had already undone the straps holding him into his seat and was moving to his armour that was clipped into a mount on the wall. He moved to the front of the craft where the image was projected and looked closely, the section he was looking at was bigger than he had seen on the boats from the Santa Maria. He scratched his jaw as he tried to work out what it was. It wasn’t just the nose, the entire vessel looked like it had been roughly bodged to do a particular job.
“I don’t know. It might be extra armour. Anybody else know?”
“Wait, if you follow the line along the side you can see it is thicker all around the hull, I’d say she’s been reinforced and sealed for some reason,” said the marine.
“Sealed, as in from the inside or to keep us out?” asked Spartan. The marine shrugged.
“I don’t like it. Either they have sealed it to keep something from getting out or they really don’t want us going in,” said Spartan.
“ETA three minutes,” came the voice of the pilot over the speaker system.
Spartan looked back at the group and then the image of the craft before making up his mind.
“Well, we don’t have the luxury of time. Here’s the plan. First, we’ll move alongside her and set up an airlock seal. We’ll clamp down hard on her and make sure we’ve got a secure, pressurised access point to her
