“So few?”
“Majority were evacuated in the last few weeks, since all this has gone on.”
“Five million is still a lot.”
“Sure is. So I intend to go there and destroy any who threaten it, will you be with us?”
“We need to make sure this ship is ready for combat. Give us thirty minutes.”
“We’ll be picking up survivors and carrying out repairs. Thirty minutes, not a second longer, Resolution out.”
The signal cut off, and Taylor looked around at the bridge crew. They were utterly terrified. They were not the combat experienced crew he had been promised. He doubted the blame fell with Greer. She had done everything to help them.
“There you go, your first taste of combat. A taste, that’s all it was. This isn’t gonna be pretty, and it’s gonna get a whole lot worse. This ship is not ready to fight. You have thirty minutes to make it so. No excuses. We need weapons operational. Fighters able to fly, assault ships ready to launch. Every aspect of this ship operational in the way it was intended. There’s no time to waste, so get to it!”
With that, he strode off the deck with Jones close beside him.
“Little bit too much pressure to be putting on them, don’t you think?”
“If they can’t handle it, there’s nothing I can say or do in thirty minutes that will change that.”
Alita appeared before them.
“What the hell is going on?”
“We just arrived in a shit storm to find out this ship isn’t ready.”
“What?”
“He’s not kidding,” replied Jones.
“All right, so what now?”
“Gear up, this is only the beginning. Get to those assault ships and make sure they are ready to roll.”
“How much time do we have?”
“Thirty minutes until we wade knee deep into this shit.”
“You can’t be serious, thirty minutes? No way!”
“I don’t like it either, but it is what it is. Just do what you can.”
He rushed back to his room and pulled on his gear, but soon realised he was carrying little ammunition and headed on to find the armoury. He was within a few corridors when he found it backed up with his people queuing to get in. He could see Babacan’s head stuck up from the others in the line and rushed to him.
“What is this shit?”
“Trying to draw ammo. It isn’t going well.”
“Fuck me,” he replied and pushed his way through to get to the source of it. He reached the security bars of the armoury to find dozens of his own people shouting through at the crew inside, several of which had draw side arms ready to protect themselves against the horde.
“Stand down!” he barked, but he could barely be heard. He grabbed the first man he could beside the bars, threw him back, and did the same to several others until he stood between them all and the armoury.
“I said, stand down!”
He didn’t recognise a single one of them, but they were all from his regiment.
“What the hell is going on here?”
“Fools say we can’t draw ammo. Say the stores are restricted to ship’s security staff only,” said a Corporal.
A few of them began shouting abuse, but Taylor shouted them down.
“Give it a rest! I’ll handle this.”
He turned back to the scared Navy personnel who had locked themselves into the armoury. They were shaking with fear as if they were about to be torn apart.
“Take it easy. Lower your weapons and explain the situation to me,” Taylor said calmly.
“Sir, we don’t have enough ammo for your people. We were told you would be bringing your own.”
Taylor shook his head in utter disbelief.
“What? Let me get this straight. We have been posted here to protect this vessel, and you expected us to bring our own ammunition?”
“That is what we expected, Sir, yes.”
“And you never thought to check?”
“It’s not my job to ask questions, Sir.”
“Great. Pass the buck. You know what happens when people pass the buck in our line of work, sailor?”
The man shook his head.
“Good men and women die. Now you are going to open this cage and distribute the ammunition that you have. That is an order.”
“Sir, I cannot.”
“Cannot? You are telling me you will not obey my orders?”
“I am, Sir. I cannot comply with your command, Sir.”
Taylor snapped his pistol from its holster and took aim at the man. He was completely ready to pull the trigger, and everyone could see that.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” a woman cried out as she leapt into the scene.
Taylor turned to see it was the Chief, but he didn’t lower his aim.
“What seems to be the problem here, Colonel?” she asked calmly, in an attempt to diffuse the situation.
“Problem is we are about to go into combat, and I need every single one of my people ready for it. That means ammunition on our persons.”
The Chief sighed. “We were told you would bring more than enough with you.”
“By who?”
“I am sorry, Sir, that is all I know.”
Taylor lowered his pistol and smashed his hands against the bars in frustration.
“Fuck sake, why does it have to be this difficult? We’ve got enough trouble to deal with, without it coming from within.”
“When we get back to a depot, I can sort this for you, Colonel, but until then we are just going to have to make do.”
“That may be the case, but making do means we need the ammunition that is in this armoury. We are here to protect this ship, and we can’t do it without the tools at our disposal.”
The Chief looked into the cage at the terrified personnel inside looking to her for answers.
“Open the doors. Distribute the ammo,” she stated.
“But, Chief, we have orders to…”
“I don’t give a damn what orders you have. The Colonel and his people can’t do their jobs without that ammunition. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t even be alive to have this conversation. Just do it, now!”
“And when the Captain asks why we have nothing in the store?”
“You tell him to come to me.”
Taylor nodded in appreciation to the Chief. She stood as tall as him and was a formidable woman who clearly commanded respect without having to bully. He liked that. He realised he had lost his cool there, and it had been a sobering sight to see her at work.
The cage was opened, and Taylor stepped into the doorway to be given a box of ammunition. It was enough for one magazine only. He looked up at the man who had given it to him.
“If you want us to hand out ammo to your whole regiment, it’s all we can spare, Sir.”
He sighed but took it. He knew there was nothing more to be done about it.
“Chief, will you stay here and control this rabble? They won’t be happy about this. Fighting men need support to get the job done, and they aren’t getting it.”
“I hear you, Colonel. You have my word that I will do everything in my power to remedy this. I’ll see what I can beg, borrow, or steal from the rest of the fleet for starters.”
He looked over to a much larger locked cage at the other side of the room.
“So what’s in there?”
“Heavy machine guns and the ammunition for them.”
“For what purpose?”
“A lot of things around here. Ground attack craft, close support weapons for the fighters. AA guns.”
“So you have quite a number of them?”
“Sure.”
“How many can you spare?”
“I am not sure I am with you, Colonel.”
“You can’t give us enough ammunition for the weapons we have got, then we’ll take whatever you can spare, and that’s clearly it.”
The men in the armoury cage laughed as he said it.
“What’s so funny?” Taylor asked with a straight face.
“They aren’t man portable,” snapped one as he dismissed Taylor’s idea.
“Maybe not for you.”
Taylor strode up to the cage and looked to the Chief.
“Open it.”
She didn’t hesitate. The huge door slid open as she input her security passcode, and Taylor stepped inside to find weapon crates stacked up. He walked up to the nearest, opened the clamps of the box, and threw the lid open while everyone else watched.
“He can’t lift that,” one of the crew said quietly in the background.
Taylor looked into the box to see a massive heavy machine gun. It was two metres long, and the receiver looked almost as thick as his chest. It tapered to a vented barrel shroud and finally a long hexagonal barrel. He put both arms on it and hauled it out of the box. It weighed a shed load, and even with the power of his suit, he felt the strain. He still managed to hold it up in both hands to all their amazement.
“That’s one big ass gun,” said a marine.
“How many of these can you spare?”
“We have a hundred and fifty-five in surplus right now, but we’ll…” began the Chief.
“We’ll take them.”
“Colonel, they will be needed elsewhere.”
“Chief, if we don’t get through this next fight, it won’t even matter. You can replace what you need to after we make it through this.”
She looked uneasy, but he’d made it clear he wasn’t going to back down. Captain Jones stepped into the scene as she was still shaking her head.
“What on Earth are you up to?” he asked.
“Ammunition is low, stupidly low. Have our guys take these, a two-man team on each. There should be enough for one per platoon. Spread the ammunition out for the rifles as best you can.”
He passed the gun to Jones who didn’t look impressed by the weight.
“Where are you going?” he asked as Taylor walked away.
“To find out which clown sent us out here without the tools to get the job done.”
He strode on out of the room and was bombarded by questions from his own troops as he fought to get out of the queues.
"Stay calm, draw one box. I will sort this, I promise!"
He had to repeat it several times over, and none of them looked impressed by the news. Finally, he broke free.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered to himself, "What on Earth are these people playing at?"
He looked down at his watch. They had just ten minutes before they were departing for Kapteyn, and what would almost certainly be a serious fight. He knew it was all too good to be true. He was kicking himself for taking people’s word for everything that was around them.
Why didn't I check the ammo? Why didn't I check the weapon systems? Damn, fuck it!
Going to war with poor equipment and not enough of it was a situation he was all too familiar with, but he hadn't thought for a moment he would have found himself in that situation now.
I want to hope that we won't be needed on the ground at Kapteyn, but my gut is telling me we will.
"You can fucking guarantee that the time we need to kit up most will be the time we don't have it," he muttered to himself.
He stormed through the corridors, but it was such a vast ship that by the time he reached the bridge their time was almost up. He looked down; two minutes left. He should have asked for more time from the Admiral, and yet he knew they couldn't wait any longer. A few hours ago it seemed like they had all the time in the world, and that they were ready for what was to come, or as ready as they could be, but that couldn't be further from the truth.
Taylor barged his way through several crewmembers to get onto the bridge to find the Captain looking a bit sheepish.
"This ship wasn't ready for combat, and you knew it," declared Taylor.
"I was told to get this ship into service ASAP, far quicker than was ever realistic, and I did that."
"And you will pay for that in blood, maybe even your own!"
It was a sobering thought, and the crew of the bridge were gobsmacked by the revelation.
"We could hold back, let the fleet go to Kapteyn while we resupply and prepare for combat."
It was a dilemma. Taylor knew they needed that, but the people on Kapteyn and the fleet needed them more. He shook his head.
"We don't have a choice anymore. We'll have to improvise, and just hope we can make it through this."
"You always seem to pull through these things, Colonel. You are a miracle worker."
"Don't put this on me. I can only work with what I’ve got, and that isn't nearly enough right now, Captain!"
"Sir, we are being hailed by the Resolution on an open channel."
"Put her through!"
The Admiral appeared on screen. His head wound had been cleaned up and sealed, but dried blood was still ingrained in his skin, on his scalp, and sides of his face.
"The time has come. As many as possible have been rescued, and what preparations could be done have been. I have no idea what we will face on the other side. All I know is that right now the population of Kapteyn need our help. We can't spare another moment. Coordinates are being sent to you all as we speak. Prepare to jump in thirty seconds. Good luck to you all, Resolution out."
Wilcox looked back to Taylor in horror.
"We aren't ready for this, are we?"
"Nope, but we'll just have to make do. Are the weapon systems ready?"
"I think so."
"Don't think, know so!"
He rushed over to a console to check with his own eyes as Taylor observed the fleet around them. He was glad to see the Guam was still in one piece. He wished with all his heart to be over there right now. He had ten times as much confidence in her and her crew than he did of the Independence. Wilcox came back over to him but would not make eye contact as the crews readied the ship to jump.
"I am so sorry, Colonel. I really am. All I wanted to do was help you, and I failed," he said quietly.
"Failed? We haven't failed yet, and I don't intend to. This is a setback, a hurdle that we must overcome. You know how much adversity I have seen in my days? How often do you think a plan ever really works the way you intended it to?"
The man was appreciative of his sentiments.
"You can't change what has been and gone, Captain, but you can rise to the occasion and give it your best shot. Can you do that?"
Finally, he turned enough to make eye contact. His shame was rapidly being replaced with hope.
"Any advice for when we get to the other side?" he croaked.
"Keep cool, breathe, and keep thinking. Don't show this crew weakness. Above all, they just want to know you are moving forward with confidence. We don't always have the time to make the best decisions that we might have otherwise."
"But that call you made, how can I even know to make one like that?"
"You'll learn, in time. You just got through your first battle and survived. So you're no rookie anymore. Stay alive, and you'll be kicking ass before you know it."
"Jumping in five, four, three, two, one...jump!"
Chapter 6
They arrived out of the jump to find exactly what they had feared. A Morohtan fleet lay in orbit over the planet. Dozens of assault craft were making their way down to the surface. Only one major warship defended them.
"That's the one we forced to flee," said Wilcox, looking at the damage on her hull.
"Then the attack on the fleet was just a diversion. They must have known a signal managed to reach them and gone to intercept."
"Yeah, well, it didn't work."
A light flashed beside them as a jump gateway opened, and another twenty Alliance warships arrived. Vega's voice came over the comms.
"All ships; launch fighters, engage the enemy."
"Weapons in range in two minutes, Sir."
They watched as both fleets descended on the enemy. It seemed like overkill, but they all knew no
w to not take any chances. The enemy’s fate seemed sealed, but it was still a waiting game.
"In range in ten seconds."
"Fire when ready," Wilcox gave the order.
The gun batteries opened fire with an alarming volley, but just moments before impact, there was a flash, and in an instant the enemy fleet was gone. The missile and tracer fire found nothing but empty space.
"What the hell? What are they doing?"
Taylor sighed. It was just about the last outcome he was hoping for.
"I don't get it," added Wilcox.
"Being smart. For once we have overwhelming numbers. Enough to really cause them trouble."
"So they just leave?"
"It's a wise move. Take us on at a later date when they can divide our forces."
"But their troops are on the ground?"
"Yep, and that's still a problem we're gonna have to deal with."
Admiral Vega appeared in a general announcement to the fleet.
"This is the Admiral speaking. The enemy fleet may have left, but we still have people on the ground. Continue on our current course. When in range, launch ground attack fighters and Marine details. Any transports you can spare will need to be ready to evacuate the civilians."
They made their approach towards the planet to take up the position the enemy fleet had recently held.
"What kind of enemy presence is down there?" Taylor asked.
Even as he said it, a beam of light arose from the surface and struck the atmosphere.
"What the fuck?"
He held his breath, waiting for whatever new horror was to unfold. He didn't put it past the Morohta to kill a world's population outright. He had seen it attempted before. But as the beam struck the atmosphere, it branched out into a massive translucent sphere that reached down to the surface all around the colony.
"Well, that's new," said Taylor.
It was a relief that it hadn't been a weapon of mass destruction, but not knowing what it was made it little better. They could still see the vast colony through the translucent dome.
"What are they playing at?"
"Well, it's not there for looks, so let's find out, Captain."
"How?"
"Load up and hit it." Wilcox didn't understand, "Shoot the damn thing!"
Battle Beyond Earth: Invasion Page 8