Stories of a long forgotten weapon began to arise, a weapon forged by Bolormaa's mother, and one that could kill even the most powerful of the Morohta Lords. With little faith, but nothing to lose, Taylor set out on a quest to find the weapon few believed ever existed. It almost cost him his life, but in their final hour, the comradery he had come to rely on saw them through. Taylor and his Immortals discovered the weapon, and with it slayed one of Bolormaa's offspring - Prince Sarnai, a seemingly invincible warrior of the Morohta people.
Despite that encounter, when Taylor barely survived, he and his friends remain standing in defiance of Bolormaa. A cry of hope has rung out across the Alliance, a shockwave the Queen herself must hear from the far side of the universe. Taylor has shown the way forward, but the price on his head could be more terrifying than any yet. He is the number one target for all who serve the enemy Queen, and she will do anything to avenge the death of her son and recover the weapon that she fears so much.
All eyes now look to Taylor. He has won the trust and belief of the people of the Alliance, but can he live up to their expectations? Time is counting down to the return of the Morohta, and the question still remains, can the Alliance stand against their Retaliation?
Chapter 1
"Lieutenant Jones to the bridge, Lieutenant Jones to the bridge," a voice commanded with no sign of urgency.
Jones was awake but lying flat out on his bunk. He couldn't sleep any longer, but neither could he find the motivation to get up.
He sighed as he spoke to himself, "Great, another empty rock to look at."
He thought back to his first adventure into space. He remembered how excited he had been to explore so much of the universe he had not been to before, and even some that humans had never seen. That excitement felt like a lifetime ago. The chance and thrill of finding new life and new worlds replaced by a fear of an enemy lurking in the shadows waiting to pounce. His youthful exuberance had been ripped from him, and coldness now filled that space.
Jones groaned as he got up and began to pull on his uniform. He could understand Taylor's weariness. He had spent his life dreaming of space travels and the adventures he could experience. He imagined the euphoria he had dreamed of, but now he would give anything to be back on Earth on firm ground and with fresh air. He clipped his duty belt on with sidearm and strolled out of his quarters with zero enthusiasm.
As he strolled down the corridors of the brand new warship, he could see the crew were as fresh and untested as the vessel herself. Morale was low, nothing like he had ever seen aboard a newly launched ship. Few had experienced combat, and yet they already looked as drained as he did. He stepped aboard the bridge to find a projected display of a planet ahead. It looked bleak and dry with nothing but sharp canyons and rock.
"Lovely," he said.
The ship's Captain turned to greet him.
"We are getting a transmission from the surface. Someone or something is down there," he said in a mild Russian accent.
Jones looked back at the planet and shook his head.
"Captain Lushkov, the only thing that is down there is more rock."
The Russian smiled. He was a tall man. Not bulky in build, but strong, and he held himself upright and proudly. He was almost bald, despite the fact he was only forty years old. He bore no scars, but it was clear he was one of the few aboard that had seen real action.
"This time I really mean it. There is something down there," he added.
Jones sighed.
"All right, send down a drone."
"We already have," he said, pointing to a video feed attached to a vessel approaching the planet at a fair pace.
Jones' interest was finally spiked. He tapped a button on the communicator on his wrist.
"First and Second Platoons gear up and report to the cargo bay. Fourth Platoon, remain on duty and be vigilant," he ordered.
"What are you expecting to find? An army?" Lushkov asked.
"I don't expect to find anything, but it usually finds me. It doesn't cost anything to be prepared."
"No, but after more than twenty such occasions, we haven't found anything. There are no enemy here, not yet."
"Yes, and being around Taylor long enough there is one thing I do know. In his words, things can go from slick to shit in a second."
The Russian smiled, clearly appreciating the analogy.
"You are not bored yet of this endless routine?"
"It's what we signed up for, isn't it?" he replied half-heartedly.
They watched the video feed as the drone descended into the atmosphere. Neither expected to find anything. Jones sat back against one of the consoles and crossed his arms. The drone's forward camera soon revealed exactly what they had expected, the vast cavernous features they could see so clearly from a distance. It was a dry and dusty world that didn't look capable of supporting any kind of life.
I got out of bed for this, Jones thought.
He watched the craft soar across the barren surface and close in on the signal. It passed over one canyon to reveal the wreck of a craft in the valley below. Jones suddenly righted himself and sprang up, walking closer to study what he was seeing.
"It's human," said Lushkov.
"Yes, but from when?"
"It's hard to tell exactly, but it looks something like a type 18 frigate."
"Type 18?" Jones asked, sounding surprised, "I don't think I've ever seen one with my own eyes. I thought they were scrapped long before you or I were born."
"Further back even than that."
"Check the Alliance records. If a ship was lost in this area, there should be something."
"If the distress beacon is still active, then nobody ever found this wreck?"
The Captain nodded.
"But how?"
"We didn't even pick up the beacon until we were almost on top of it. I guess nobody else ever had a reason to visit this rock until now."
The ship was covered in so much dust from the surface, it was beginning to blend in and become part of the scenery. The drone circled around the vessel but could find no way in.
"Not a breach I can see," said Lushkov.
"Anything in the records yet?"
The Lieutenant looking into it shook her head. "No, Sir."
"Records for when that old thing was in service are far from complete. This could date back to the Krys Emergency."
Jones' eyes widened.
"That far back? Surely not!"
"Why not? If it was anything much more recent, we would know about it. But that was a wild time. A lot of ships were provided to loyalist forces. That might even explain why we don't have records for her. Not much more the drone can tell us, though, what do you want to do?"
"I'm going down there for a look."
"It's off mission. Nothing to do with the Morohta."
"We don't know what it is, when or where it came from. We need to at least check this out. It'll only be an hour or so to do that. Not like we are finding anything anywhere else. This is the first semblance of life we have seen since we came out here. Fact is, the Morohta are coming, but not yet. We took out their navigation capabilities, and they won't be getting them back anytime soon."
"Then what are we doing out here looking for them?"
Jones smiled.
"Better safe than sorry. Keep scanning the surface. I'm heading down there now."
Lushkov didn't argue with him. Jones had built a formidable reputation as a combat officer. Everyone understood that despite officially only being in command of a modest Marine detachment, the intention was for him to lead the way.
He soon reached the docking bay in full armour to find the two platoons fully equipped and waiting for him, just as he had asked. Half of the faces were new recruits. It was Alita Hariz who called them to attention. With Taylor out of action, she had filled Jones' shoes while he had assumed command of the Immortals. A name now almost universally accepted and marketed to inspire potential recruits. Their official title was fading r
apidly from common usage, and they were recruiting from all services.
Five of the platoons were Krys, including Babacan. Still there were no Cholans. None had yet lived up to their standards and passed their tests.
"We finally found something!" Jones announced.
"Can we kill it?" Babacan asked.
Jones laughed, his Krys friend was not joking.
"A crashed vessel, one of our own. It's been down there sometime. It could be something. It could be nothing. I don't want any one of you letting your guard down because you think this is going to be easy. Easy operations tend to have a habit of biting back."
"You heard. Move it! Let's go, go, go!" Alita yelled.
The two platoons leapt into action and rushed aboard the two Stormers awaiting them. They were the latest models, with better armour, more powerful engines, and the latest countermeasure defences. The paint was like new, as they were yet to be used in anger. Jones was the last to board with Alita.
"Anything serious?" she asked him quietly.
"Doesn't look like it, but it's got me curious."
"Curious? That doesn't usually end well."
"You're getting as cynical as Taylor."
She smiled, but he knew it was more at the mention of Mitch's name than anything else.
"You think we'll have him back anytime soon?"
"Docs say he needs a few more weeks, but I doubt they'll be able to hold him down that long."
"Good, we need him, more than ever."
"Not like there is anyone to fight quite yet."
"There's always someone to fight. He taught me that. A moment of peace is just a dream.
She climbed into the pilot’s seat as the door sealed shut behind them. The engines soon fired up, and they rushed out into the blackness of space. They banked steeply until the light of the planet lit up the pilot’s display screens, and finally the vast barren world came into view.
"What an ugly planet," stated Alita.
"Yeah, I guess nobody ever comes here for a reason. It's got no air, barely any resources of note. No water."
"Yeah, and all kinds electrical interference coming from somewhere. Talk about a backwater."
"Well, we didn't come here for a vacation."
"Just as well."
They soon passed through the atmosphere and followed the path the drone had taken.
"What are you expecting to find here?"
Jones shrugged.
"Something...nothing."
She yawned. "You aren't getting tired of this yet?"
"I am, but at least this time we get to look at something other than more rock and space. Not every dustbowl has an old Alliance shipwreck."
"Hoping to find some treasure?"
"We certainly shouldn't find any life."
They passed over the top of the last valley and dropped down to hover a hundred metres above the surface of the wreckage. Alita studied the ground all around before launching scatter probes. Twenty small drones the size of a marble that dropped to the surface and provided readings on the ground.
"What were you expecting?"
"I wasn't expecting to find anything, doesn't mean we won't. You know the number of times we have landed somewhere that is supposedly safe and turns into a hell hole?"
Jones nodded in agreement as she began to descend to the surface.
"Not going to be much to breath out there."
"Visors on!" Jones ordered.
He pressed a button on his helmet, and the visor locked down to the collar of his armour.
"I still hate these things; they feel so claustrophobic."
"Not quite as much as Taylor, though."
Jones couldn't argue with that. She checked a few more readings outside before hitting the door release. A thick cloud of dust blew in through the opening and coated their gear thoroughly.
"You always bring us to the nicest of places, Sir," said Watkins.
"Yeah, a real prime holiday spot," Antos joined in.
"All right, let's get our heads in the game," said Jones.
He stepped out onto the surface with his rifle held at the ready, as if expecting the kind of trouble that he would need it. Alita Hariz stepped out casually beside him, and the others spread out around them.
"Ain't nothing here that draws life. I have scanned the whole area. Whatever was here is dead."
"Yeah? I always used to rely on sensors and scans, and those 'knowns' we take for granted. But you should know from Taylor not to rely on all that."
"It can get you killed," they said together, remembering the number of times the Colonel had tried to drill it into them.
"He's made it hundreds of years, so he must be doing something right," added Jones.
She nodded in agreement, following him a little more seriously and determined than before. As they approached the stricken abandoned vessel, they had a sense of scale. It was a substantial warship, as large as the one they were serving aboard, but it looked simplistic and antiquated compared to their frontline vessels. It was listing a little from where it had crashed down on an uneven rock outcrop. Several of the larger jagged rocks beneath had speared the craft when it had crashed.
Even through the dust, scorch marks and indentations were visible from where heavy ordnance had hit the hull, yet there seemed no breaches in the thick armour.
"Tough old girl must have suffered from engine failure."
"Why do you say that?"
"Well, look at it. She wasn't shot out of the sky. Must have lost power and dropped. Something was hitting her hard, but she held out," said Alita, and she rubber her gloved hands over the hull and the impacts.
"Name and ID have been cut off!" Bailey called out.
Alita turned back, surprised to see her brushing back an ID plate. It looked like it had been attacked with a saw. Jones took a few steps and then leapt using his boosters. He cleared ten metres and landed on a flat section on the port side of the hull near an access door. Alita jumped up beside him and watched him open a thickly armoured access hatch that revealed a keypad.
"How did you know about that?"
"Lushkov told me. He said all these old boats had an emergency override key that kicks in once an emergency distress beacon has been activated. To let search and rescue crews in."
"Well, why the hell haven't I been told that? I'm a damn pilot."
"Need to know basis, I guess."
She didn't look impressed.
He tapped in a long set of keys and stepped back, watching smugly as the lock prised open. The half metre thick armour door opened just a centimetre and was not powered at all. He reached forward and took hold of the thick steel handle, ready to swing it open.
"No!" Hariz yelled.
She had seen something he hadn't. She leapt at him, tackling him so hard they were thrown off the ledge of the hull. An explosion burst out from the opening just as they passed over the ledge. Flame and debris burst out above them as they crashed down to the surface below. Jones' landed hard with Alita on his back. His armour saved him from serious injury, but the impact stunned him, and he felt pain soar through his body. He blacked out for a moment, coming to as he was turned over onto his back.
He gasped for air, and his suit couldn't provide all he wanted. He instinctively reached for his visor release, but Alita grabbed his hand and tapped his helmet until he came to his senses. There was a long crack running the length of his visor, but it was still sealed.
"What the hell was that?" he asked.
"Booby-trap...thing was wired to blow."
It suddenly dawned on Jones how close they had both come to certain death, and it silenced him.
"That was pretty close, huh?" she asked as they looked around at the debris. The remains of the door lay ten metres away from them, as well as several other parts of the framework around it.
"Everyone okay?" Alita shouted.
She looked around in amazement to see they hadn't taken a single casualty.
"That was too close a
call," she whispered quietly to him.
Lushkov's panicked voice came over their comms.
"This is the Navarin. What the hell is going on down there?"
After a few moments, Jones managed to get a few words out.
"We're okay, no casualties. It's fine."
"It doesn't look fine to us. That is an empty ship, a dead old empty ship. It almost just cost you your life. May I suggest we give up and move on. There is nothing more to be gained here."
"No, this thing was left as a trap for some reason, and I want to know why," he replied as he got to his feet.
He jumped back up to where he had been standing before the blast. There was a two-metre breach where the door had been and nothing left of whatever device had caused the explosion.
"It's tried to kill us once, don't you think it's best left alone?"
Alita was standing beside him, and he hadn't even heard her arrive. Before he could respond, the Captain's voice rang out from his comms link once again.
"We just received a jump signature from the far side of this world."
Jones looked questioningly at Alita.
"Who would be coming to join us out here?"
"Probably just another Alliance ship patrolling, like us. If they made it out this far, then maybe they tracked the same beacon."
"Negative, this vessel it not using Alliance transponders. Whatever this is, they aren't Alliance."
The Captain's voice was suddenly drowned out by the crack of engines from something entering the atmosphere. They looked up to try and spot what it was, but they were too deep into the valley.
"I don't like this at all," stated Alita.
They both rushed forward, scrambling over the craft and up the rockfaces to get a view into the next valley. The engines were getting louder, but no closer as they reached the crest. Jones finally reached the top to peer over, and he felt his heart sink. A jet-black and almost crab shape craft lay in the canyon below. He didn't recognise the particular shape, but its construction and style was exactly that of the Morohta. He turned back to talk to Alita, but as he did, he noticed a glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned just in time to see a blade swing for his head.
Battle Beyond Earth Box Set Page 41