Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

  "Damn it," he said to himself and carried on with one of the squads in front. He used the drones to screen and protect himself, just as he had been trained. With all of the soldiers before him, he could not see ahead. Instead, he watched the feed from the drone on point from the console on his arm. It was like watching a video game, and yet the risk to his life made him feel otherwise.

  The ambient lighting suddenly cut out without warning.

  "Halt," he ordered, and the platoon came to a standstill.

  Red emergency lighting cut in, and for a moment Jones felt relieved, but that soon failed also, and they were left in complete darkness.

  "NVGs on," he ordered.

  He pressed a button on his console, and a visor slid down from his helmet that dropped down to nose height. Lights flickered, and suddenly everything was illuminated with a three-colour palette and almost perfect visibility.

  I hate these things.

  He remembered when his failed during a night training exercise the year before. Lights flashed in the corridor up ahead, and he looked back down at his console. The camera feed dropped to the ground as the drone was hit. Jones leapt to the side of the corridor and took shelter in one of the large support beams running along the corridor. White flashes of energy zipped down the corridor and struck several of the drones. Jones saw two of the impacts blow the drones apart, but he saw another drop motionless from a lesser impact to the shoulder, as if it had simply been switched off.

  He hunkered down in the cover and controlled his unit from his console. From the foremost drone's camera he could just make out the enemy up ahead, but the flashes of their weapons made it hard to get a bearing on exactly what he was seeing. The drones were returning fire with controlled bursts, but they seemed to have little effect on their attackers. He looked at the GPS positioning of his drones and could see 1st Squad was almost gone, with just two still in action. He directed 2nd Squad to move forward, and for 2nd Platoon to move in on their left flank from a parallel corridor.

  2nd Squad went forward without fear or hesitation. They were nothing more than machines, but Jones could not help feel the loss when several more were cut down, and he wondered if they could make any progress.

  "Ah, hell," he said and decided to weigh into the fray. He got up and peered around the pillar enough to get a view of the enemy. They were just twenty metres ahead. He raised his rifle, flicked the selector onto flash, and pulled the trigger. He looked away for just a moment but knew he didn't have to notify the squad beside him. They were programmed to block visuals when any friendly flash device was fired.

  The whole corridor lit up with a flash of white light. A second later, Jones had his rifle up beside the pillar and was taking aim at the nearest enemy. He was surprised to see there appeared to be just three of them. They walked on four mechanical crab-like legs, but with more of a humanoid-shaped upper body. They appeared to be entirely mechanical. Each of their forearms was one of their devastating ranged weapons, but looked like little more than steel tubes. They appeared stunned for a moment, and Jones took his chance.

  He aimed at the centre mass of the middle soldier and fired a single shot, but he heard it ricochet off its torso armour.

  "No way," he whispered and fired another two shots, achieving nothing more. The drones were firing volleys into the creatures now but achieving nothing of note. They returned fire and destroyed another five drones in their opening salvo. Jones once again took aim at the head this time and fired. The shot glanced off, and now he was more terrified than ever. It was then he noticed a small glowing green light in its lower torso. It was as good a target to try as any. He took aim and fired a shot. The first did nothing, so he fired two more, and watched with joy as the soldier went limp and collapsed to the deck.

  "All units, aim for the light in the lower torso. It's the only place we can get through."

  The drones redirected their fire, but they were still having trouble getting through with regular ammunition. Despite this, he watched with relief as the remaining two enemy soldiers retreated down a nearby corridor.

  "We've got the first wave on the run. All units close in and bring them down!"

  2nd Squad went ahead, and he finally got out from cover and followed them. He went forward with a new found confidence. He could hear gunfire from the platoon to their left flank beginning to engage the two enemy soldiers that were running from them. He took a bend and found they had been cornered in the corridor between the two units and were firing wildly into both sides. He joined in the fight and started firing bursts into one of the creatures, but he couldn't get an accurate shot on the weak point he needed. They were moving back and forth firing so wildly.

  Jones stopped firing and took careful aim, slowly tracking his target and waiting for his opportunity. He thought he had found his shot and began squeezing the trigger when a red pulse flashed from one of the enemy’s weapons. It was so bright it blinded him for a split second. As he recovered, he noticed the ball of red light stop and erupt. It hit like a shockwave and launched him and the drones with him into the air. He was thrown two metres back, slammed into the deck, and slid until his shoulder smashed into one of the pillars.

  He was stunned by the impact, but looking over from where he lay, a few of the drones were already back on their feet. Suddenly, a drone head flew past his field of vision, and he saw the two enemy soldiers cutting their way through. Metre-long blades were now protruding from the guns that they carried in place of arms. They cut and blasted their way through six drones before he could get to his feet. He activated his combat shield in the nick of time. Two rods extended out above and below his left arm, and a light green energy shield ignited around them.

  A blade from one of the enemy soldiers hacked down at his shield. The impact of the blow drove him down onto one knee. But from there he placed the barrel of his rifle on the glowing bulb on the robot’s torso and squeezed the trigger. Five shots ripped through its body. The Mech-like creature went limp and collapsed over him with what felt like the weight of a car.

  Jones tried to move the body off him, but it was too heavy. He looked up and watched the other alien soldier cut through a drone with one of its blades. It then rose up on its rear legs and drove one of its front blades through another drone like a spear, piercing it from front to back. It landed back on all feet, taking aim with one of its arm-mounted cannons at Jones' head. All he had free was his right arm with the rifle still in his hand. He lifted it up with one hand and fired a burst in the desperate hope of doing something.

  The first round slipped straight into the broad barrel opening of one of the cannons aimed at him, causing the energy inside to ignite. The soldier’s arm was blown off and was thrown against the bulkhead on the far side. Jones was powerless to act any further, but watched five of his drones close in, keeping up the fire until finally the alien soldier slumped back down and was finished. Jones gave out a sigh of relief. He knew how lucky he had been.

  "Get this thing off me!" he yelled.

  The drones gathered around and managed to haul the dead soldier off him and help him to his feet. He coughed and spluttered, trying to get air back into his lungs and activated his comms link.

  "This is Jones. We have engaged and neutralised three of the enemy. What is our status?"

  "Lieutenant, we're getting out of here now. Should be at the gateway in less than a minute!" Santos shouted.

  Jones could hear a mixture of frantic yelling and groans of pain in the background from wounded crewmembers.

  "How many ships do we have left?"

  "Not many," replied Santos wearily, "Have you cleared the ship of all hostile entities?"

  "I don’t know."

  "Have the drones keep sweeping the ship, and get back up here!"

  Jones ran back towards the elevator and tapped in his orders into his console as he did so. He rushed in and hit the button. As the doors shut, he could feel liquid dripping down his face that he thought was sweat. He wiped his brow
with the back of his hand, only to find to his horror that it was blood. His head was still throbbing from where he had been thrown hard onto the deck, but he didn't have time to check. He released the magazine from his rifle and let it drop to the floor of the elevator, slammed in a fresh one as the doors opened, and rushed back onto the bridge.

  It was a scene of mayhem. The blast doors were buckled slightly, and one of the consoles had smoke belching out from it. A fire extinguisher was leaning against a panel nearby. Two crewmembers were being patched up from minor injuries, but most of all, his attention was drawn to the display screen. It showed the enemy vessel, but they were putting some distance between it. He knew they were heading for the gateway, and they had left a dozen crippled or destroyed ships in their wake.

  Even as he was watching the screen, the Aranui ship was cut in two by the immense power of the enemy vessel. They all knew it was the most powerful ship they had taken into the system. They were running for their lives now, and everyone knew it.

  "Can't we get any more power?" Cohen bellowed.

  "We're at full capacity," replied Nichols.

  The Commander turned back to watch the onslaught with Jones, knowing neither of them could do anything now. The last of the fighters were making rushed landings, and two blew up as they were hit from the smaller weapon systems of the enemy vessel.

  "Did you use an EMP?"

  "We used everything we had," replied Cohen solemnly.

  Another Human ship between them and the enemy was blown apart just as they passed through into the gateway. They finally left the horrific sight of the enemy vessel behind. Cohen slumped into her chair without a word. Jones knew just how they felt, but he'd been through it the first time. More than anything, he was glad to be alive, and that was the overwhelming feeling in his head. He looked to Santos and could see he felt just the same way.

  "We've got big trouble coming our way," said the Captain.

  Jones could do nothing but nod in agreement.

  Chapter 4

  "We cannot risk more ships in a futile mission of aggression. The danger is in Kepler, almost five hundred light years away! I say we shut down the gateway and never return to that damned place again!"

  Jones couldn't even be bothered to look up at who had made such a claim, as other civilian and military representatives waded into the argument. He was slumped in his seat, having not said a word for two hours. Once again he found himself amongst a heated debate, when he had signed up for adventure and the intrigue of exploration and maybe even combat. Now he asked himself why he bothered pursuing either. Gone were the illusions he had of what his career could be. He just wanted to go home and forget it all. Then he heard Jafar's voice silence the room, and so he looked up and paid attention.

  "If a threat exists, then it will not remain contained within one system. We will have to deal with this danger, whether it is today, next month, or next year," he stated.

  "And how do you know that?" asked one of the Human representatives, "We have already heard from those who were there, and that all this started when our forces trespassed on alien ground. Maybe they just want to be left alone?"

  The man appeared to be in his mid-forties and spoke with a Scandinavian accent. He was completely bald and looked flustered from the whole debate. The display in front of him read 'MUEN Bylund', a minister of the United Earth Nations.

  Jafar shook his head.

  "Whatever you believe, you should prepare for war, because it is coming whether you will it or not."

  The room fell silent until President Isaacs broke the silence. He was here in person this time, and everyone knew how severe the situation must be for so many key officials to be physically in one room together.

  "Governor Irala, what do you think?"

  Everyone turned to the alien, but no response came.

  "You lost people out there, too. Numbers you cannot afford to lose with such a small population. You must have some feelings towards this?"

  "We did not send any Aranui on your operation to Kepler," he replied sternly.

  "How do you mean?"

  "My people cannot afford to risk our lives. We sent a ship to escort your mission only."

  "So you let our people take the hit? You let thousands of Humans, Krys, and Cholans die?" Byland asked.

  "When you have a population so small it could fit on a single capitol ship, you would be cautious, too."

  It was hard to disagree.

  "Did you believe the alien presence on Kepler could be a threat?" Isaacs asked.

  "Yes," he replied.

  "And did you know this threat existed before we first made contact?"

  "That they were inhabiting Kepler-186f, no. That they existed? Yes."

  Many in the room gasped at the response. The room then erupted into a multitude of frenzied arguments. Jones rubbed his sore head as he felt it continue to throb, though he wondered how much the current meeting was to blame for that. He could see he was no longer needed. He got up and tried to make his way out quietly while the argument ensued, but as he got a few paces from his chair, he heard the President bellow.

  "Lieutenant Jones!"

  He stopped dead, and the room fell silent again. Now he felt like a fool, so he simply stood where he had stopped and turned to face the President.

  "Lieutenant. We can argue this position for many more hours, but let's hear it from you. A man who was on the ground and with firsthand experience during both engagements. What would you do in our position? Given the combined power of the League of Races, how would you tackle this problem?"

  "Problem, Sir?"

  "What would you call it?"

  "Pandora’s Box, Sir. A powder keg...a disaster."

  The President grimaced at every one of his words. It was the sort of plain speaking language that simply didn't get used in his world of politics.

  "Okay, where would you go from here?"

  "Sir. I would look to our history. We cannot leave such a dire threat to continue to exist. If a threat exists, it must be dealt with. We need more ships, better weapons, and the soldiers to wield them. We must gear up for war, and ensure we hit this with everything we can before our chance is gone."

  "War? Is that your only answer to a problem?" Bylund asked. He turned to the President, "Mr President, you cannot ask a fighting man to make a choice between peace and war, for he is only invested in one of those options."

  Isaacs ignored the Minister and turned to Irala who still seemed to have more to offer.

  "Governor, do you support the Lieutenant's appraisal of the situation?"

  Irala nodded. "If our records are correct, it is the Morohta who you have encountered; an ancient race that scoured the universe and destroyed all who they met. They will come for us, and they will mercilessly destroy everything in their path."

  Everyone in the room was trying to take in what Irala had just said, and Isaacs opened his mouth to speak when two Cholan advisors rushed into the room and to the side of their representative, Ambassador Ucan. Jones almost laughed at the sight of the Cholans darting across the room. They looked like children that were simply out of proportion and then dressed up to be adults. They all knew it must be important for them to barge in, and waited on Ucan to share whatever vital information was with them.

  Finally, the Cholan Ambassador stood up. He was as short as the rest of them and wore a dark red suit that was more of Earth fashion than his own people. He looked distraught and unable to frame his words.

  "What is it, Ambassador?" Isaacs asked.

  "I...I have just received confirmed reports that our frontier colony of Coba has come under attack, and we have lost contact."

  "Attacked? By who?"

  "One of our ships managed to transmit this signal before it was destroyed."

  Ucan held out a small remote control and pressed a key that projected a screen. They were looking at a vividly coloured nebula, and lights flashed within it like a storm. The lights grew brighter, and the view began
to clear. They could just make out the outline of a ship, one that Jones was now all too familiar with.

  "No," he whispered to himself, feeling his whole body go rigid with fear.

  The weapon system of the alien ship fired a burst of light towards the video source, and the signal was lost.

  "It's begun," said Jafar.

  Isaacs turned to Irala for answers.

  "You seem to know a whole lot more about this new race, so tell us, what should we do?"

  "Not a new race, but a very old one. There is not a place in the universe you can go that they will not find you. Fight or die."

  "Fight?" Isaacs asked in amazement, "We haven't had to fight a real war in generations. We don't have that capacity."

  "But you did," replied Jafar.

  "Yes, a long time ago, but those days are gone, and so are the Humans who lived and survived it."

  "They're not all gone," he replied casually.

  "What do you mean?"

  "When humanity once stood on the brink of destruction, a worse time than you have ever known in your history, one man stood above all else and saw you to victory. He is not dead. He is just forgotten."

  "No, no, no," Jones joined in, "You can't be serious. He's talking about Mitch Taylor."

  "The marine?" Isaacs asked, "My history is a little rusty, but wasn't he a total head case?"

  "He was my friend," Jafar said firmly.

  "And mine, I am proud to say," added Irala.

  Jafar went on, "Mitch Taylor is still alive in suspended animation back on Earth. With the technology you have today, the willpower and effort, you could bring him back to us."

  "And what would that achieve? We just lost thousands of personnel in Kepler. Wars aren't won by one man, what difference can this one Human make?"

  "I must protest,” stated Jones, “Taylor is of a bygone era. We have moved past those horrific times of war.”

  “I thought so,” said Isaacs.

  Jafar continued. “What difference can one man make to such a massive threat? I have often wondered the same. I never could say what made Mitch Taylor so incredibly special. I believe he was, as you say, more than the sum of his parts. Taylor achieved greatness. He wrestled victory from an enemy when there seemed no hope. He made all the difference. We need men like him in a time like this.”