Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

"To study the enemy is not a bad thing."

  "Bullshit, you must have endless files on those things."

  "Some, but from many centuries ago. If I based my opinion on humanity on my experiences of a thousand years ago, might that be an accurate assessment of your strength and abilities today?"

  "No," Taylor sighed, thinking about it more, "I've just got a bad feeling about this. Study the dead ones fine, but don't bring live specimens in contact with us. That is a recipe for disaster."

  "I am sure the Captain is more than capable of handling the situation."

  "We'll see."

  "So what now?"

  "Now, Jones? I want a goddamn coffee!"

  It wasn't long before they were sitting in a canteen with their drinks.

  "I've been out for a while. Get me up to speed."

  "It wasn't that long."

  "And yet plenty has gone on. Seems like I have awoken to a shit storm. So tell me, what is the present situation of the Alliance? What enemy encounters have taken place, how goes the war effort? If I wanted to be fed a line of shit, I would go up the chain of command. I am asking you because I want it straight."

  "Honestly, our encounter with the Amitads was out of the blue. Until then, it was much of the same. The war effort increases production every day. Ships are rolling off the lines, and troops are being trained. Technological advancements in anything to assist the war are always being worked on. Same old, really."

  "And yet you ended up ambushed by the enemy. Right after we killed one of Bolormaa's sons, seems convenient, doesn't it?"

  "I think the fact it was us that got hit was a coincidence, yes. But the enemy attacking in any way they can I think is no surprise at all."

  Taylor shrugged. It made sense, but he didn't like to speculate with so little evidence.

  "What are our orders?"

  Jones shrugged.

  "We don't have any," added Alita.

  "And the spear, what was it called, the Tamir, where is it now?"

  "The Pauri Tao," Irala corrected him.

  He hated using the Krys language for anything.

  "Whatever you want to call it."

  "The Pauri Tao is under the protection of my people, in its rightful place."

  Taylor looked appalled. "We risked our lives for that spear. A weapon your own people didn't even believe in."

  Irala had no response, so he turned to Alita. It was she who used it to slay the Morohta Prince.

  "Well? Why did you give it up?"

  She shook her head. "I had no choice. The President ordered me to."

  Taylor groaned.

  "We could not keep it safe, anyway. We are a frontline combat unit. That spear needs to be protected, and a very closely guarded secret. It has to be kept safe for the time when we really need it."

  Taylor was still not convinced, so he went back to Irala.

  "Do you promise me that it is safe, and that when it is necessary, we will have it to hand?"

  "If the time is right, you shall lay your hand upon it."

  "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

  "You need to understand, Colonel, the Pauri Tao is a holy relic, and even though many of my people did not believe in it anymore, now they do. It has led to the Aranui re-thinking all they know and believe. For if the great story of the Pauri Tao is true, what else might be? Open your mind, and let it dream about what could be."

  "Open my mind? Bolormaa and her fucking Princes will be the only ones wanting to open my mind, with a blade."

  "And yet the myths were true. The stories long lost, all true. What if such legends among your people are, too?"

  Taylor laughed. "I know what you are thinking, and no, Excalibur does not exist."

  "You know that like my people knew the Pauri Tao did not exist."

  Taylor shook his head, threw back his coffee, and then stood up. He couldn't take it any longer. As he strode off, only Alita rushed to keep up.

  "You need some rest," she insisted.

  "I'm not this way because I am tired. I am pissed off because I am hearing crazy talk when it's the last thing we need."

  She put her arm around his waist and helped him stand a little as they went on.

  "Where’re we heading?" She could see he wasn't in the mood to be pushed around.

  "Honestly?" he whispered, "I could do with my own bed."

  She was sympathetic and glad he had finally suggested it, knowing he would never take the advice of anyone else to do so. He reached his quarters and found them spotless. A new set of armour lay hung beside the bed. It was not his. There was not a scratch on it, let alone the hole where the Morohta Prince skewered him in their personal combat.

  He collapsed down onto the bed without even taking his boots off. He didn't want or feel the need to sleep, but his body was exhausted.

  "Guess you couldn't save my gear?" he asked, looking over at the fresh armour.

  "Yeah, sure, we saved it, but you won't be wearing it again. It has gone back to Earth."

  "What for?"

  "To be a museum exhibit. It is a highly valued artefact and symbol of an Alliance victory."

  "Great," he replied sarcastically, "And if I seem to remember, it wasn't anyone's victory but ours. We went on a mission nobody believed in, not even those who fought with us. And now the President, the Aranui, all hailing it as a great success. Where are those fuckers when you need them?"

  She lay down beside him with a smile, which only led him to scorn.

  "What?"

  "You, you're hilarious."

  "How so?"

  "You claim to be such a task master, without a care for anything but getting the job done, and yet you're one of the most caring and sentimental people I have ever met. Were their many others like you in your day?"

  He smiled and nodded, but there was also sadness in his eyes.

  "Plenty, good men and women that we could do with right now."

  She could see it was a sore subject she would do well to pass over.

  "So, you think Wright taking that ship and crew alive is a mistake?"

  "I do."

  "Why? You were always one to make the most of captured technology, pioneer new things from it, and get information from those who served them."

  "There is a time and a place, and this isn't it. These primitive creatures have nothing useful to share with us. Nothing more than the bodies brought back from your last mission. Best-case scenario, they waste our time and require resources to be kept alive and detained. Worst case, well, you never know until it happens, do you?"

  She didn't look convinced, and he saw the expression on her face.

  "You don't believe me?"

  "I just think you need to place a little more faith in those around you. I mean, you were out for count on our last mission, and we managed okay."

  "Okay? Some of our best marines dead, and you call that okay? Watkins dead, too, he was one of the first in this unit. You think that is okay?"

  "That's not fair." She sat up and wiped a tear from her cheek.

  He sat up slowly and wrapped his hands around her.

  "I am sorry."

  "No, you are right. It isn't acceptable. No loss of life ever is, and yet how many times have you told me that you cannot win a battle without being willing to pay the toll in lives?"

  "I said that? Well, yeah, I think it, but it sounds a little poetic for my tastes."

  She finally smiled.

  "I get it, I really do, but you know me. I feel as responsible for those losses as you do, and I wasn't even there. I have to live with that, too. There will be many more losses before this is over. Friends, family, no one will escape the reach of this war."

  "The President is confident we can fight this away from Earth."

  Taylor laughed.

  "No one ever wants or plans to fight on home soil, and yet it is frequently the way it goes. We can make every preparation under the sun for this war, but when it comes, it will be fought everywhere you can imagine."


  "That's a depressing thought."

  Taylor shrugged.

  "You don't think so?"

  "For me, this is my family. We are in the fight, no matter what. I'll fight to keep civilians safe, and to keep Earth safe, and wherever else the Alliance is. But that isn't what I care for, it isn't why I do what I do."

  "Why do you do it? This was never your war. Have you really come to enjoy it, like so many have said you would? Have you become that much of a machine?"

  Taylor seemed to partially agree. "Is that such a bad thing? It's what we need."

  "But do you really enjoy it?"

  He thought about it.

  "I enjoy winning. I enjoy seeing what a difference I am making. Do I enjoy the fighting? I dunno, maybe. Maybe if I didn't, I would have gone crazy or be dead by now."

  It wasn't the first time his motivations had been questioned, and he frequently did so himself. Maybe it didn't matter anymore. He had a cast iron will to live and a desire to see those around him to keep living, too. He looked over to Alita. She was lost deep in thought.

  "What's on your mind?"

  She shook her head.

  "Just thinking about Bolormaa."

  "How so?"

  "She is not just coming for us. She is coming for you. You have humiliated her. You have turned this around. You are the one who has caused her so much trouble."

  "Yeah," he replied with a smile.

  "I am sure she will know your history well enough, or will do before long."

  "What of it?"

  "You have beaten some of the most formidable warriors in history in personal combat. Don't you think she might pick up on that? I cannot help but feel she will want to make an example of you, to cement her reputation in the history books."

  "You've really given this some thought, haven't you?" he asked, still smiling.

  "I'm serious," she replied with a deadly stare.

  But he brushed it off.

  "Maybe she will, maybe she won't, but I'm not going to start worrying about what might be."

  "And if it does happen. If Bolormaa does come looking for your head, what will you do then? Fighting one of her offspring nearly killed you, what will she do to you?"

  He agreed with her, but wasn't going to wallow on it too much.

  "I just can't afford to lose you. The Alliance can't either. You have given us hope, but where will we be if you fall?"

  He tried to comfort her.

  "Don't you worry; we'll be ready for her."

  "How? We are hanging by a thread as it is."

  "Hardly. The Alliance is stronger than ever."

  "Yes, and if we were to be fighting another Krys or Cholan war, we might be well prepared, but you know this is different. This is as bad as the dark days, the ones you yourself lived through, the days when total annihilation and extinction seemed like a very real possibility. I know the people of the Alliance don't see it yet, but Jones has shown me the history."

  Taylor shook his head.

  "Bastard."

  She looked surprised.

  "Why? What is wrong with looking into the past?"

  "What's wrong? It's making you think like this. Distracted, worried, confused. That’s no good to anyone."

  "Maybe we should be. Maybe it's right to be worried, to question what we do. We just lost Watkins, one of our very finest and best. We almost lost you. Promise me you'll make it through this."

  He looked uneasy.

  "You know that's one promise I cannot make. If I could promise any one of you that you would make it through, then I would."

  "But, I just..."

  She was interrupted by an emergency alarm. Taylor shot upright out of bed as if the sudden rush of adrenaline had washed away the pain that had overcome his body. Wright's voice came over the comms.

  "This is the Captain speaking. Enemy combatants have boarded this station. All personnel report to your stations. All civilians, remain in a safe location and seal all doors until I inform you otherwise."

  He was trying to sound calm, but Taylor could hear both fear and embarrassment in his voice.

  Taylor jumped into his suit. It quickly clamped on and sealed around him.

  "What are you doing?"

  He picked up his rifle from the rack on the wall and chambered a round.

  "It's time to go to work."

  Chapter 4

  "Get back inside and seal the door!" a voice yelled from up ahead.

  Taylor went forward quietly but in a determined and confident manner, his rifle held down to avoid friendly targets, but ready to use when the time came. He looked back over his shoulder just briefly to check Alita was still with him. She had no armour and only a pistol to hand, so he made sure she stayed well back, protecting her like he would a VIP.

  Screams rang out down the hall. The same voice repeated the command from before, but more frantically. They took the bend to find a single crewman with a carbine ushering people through a door. As the last got through, he began to take aim around the turn of the corridor at a target Taylor could not see. He managed just two shots when return fire struck him in the arm. The carbine was thrown from his hands as he recoiled back.

  Taylor sped up to the fallen man and held him, pulling him back as two of the barbaric looking Amitads took the bend. He was unfazed by their presence and fired a burst into one, killing it instantly, but the other came at him with a quick swing from a crude looking sabre. He ducked under the blow, shot out its right kneecap, and then put two in its head. Alita fired another two to be certain, despite the fact it was obviously dead. He could see a bitter hatred in her eyes, one he knew all to well.

  The crewman was cradling his arm, and blood trickled out from between his fingers where he was trying to apply pressure. Taylor picked up his carbine and thrust it into his arms, forcing him to take it into his possession, before shoving him through the door where the frightened civilians were hiding.

  "Patch him up, and don't open this door for anyone until you hear from the Captain himself that it's clear, you hear?"

  They nodded gratefully as he stepped out of the doorway and hit the switch beside it. He waited a few seconds to hear the locks were activated before turning back to Alita.

  "I told Wright to blow that ship to hell, why won't people listen?"

  "Hey, you aren't always right. I'm sure he'll be happy to hear you say you told him so, if we get through this."

  "And how many lives will that cost? This is not an enemy to toy with. You don't take prisoners, and poke and prod these animals."

  She nodded in full agreement.

  "Then let's make that happen," she added.

  Taylor opened a channel directly to Wright.

  "What are we dealing with here?"

  "We haven't even docked with the enemy vessel yet. We just towed them in for closer inspection. I don't..."

  Taylor interrupted him.

  "We can worry about the reasons later. What is the enemy strength and location?"

  "We have three breaches at air locks along the port side. I am sending location information to you now. I have already despatched Marine detachments to those locations. We are tracking them on surveillance, but everywhere they go, they destroy our camera feeds. They aren't as primitive as they look."

  Screams and gunfire rang out along the corridor.

  "Captain, you need to isolate all sectors with enemy presence and all decks either side. Seal this up now before they spread."

  "But you are in that zone, Colonel, as well as hundreds of civilians."

  "If they know what's best for them, they will already have found shelter. Seal off these sectors now!"

  "Got it..."

  Two gun shots rang out behind him, and he saw an enemy fall at Alita's feet before taking a third shot to the back of the head.

  "That's it, Colonel. Three decks, three blocks wide. You're sealed in. You've got two Marine squads in there with you. One of mine and one of your own."

  "Got it. Kee
p a track of enemy movement while you can."

  "You sure you can handle this?"

  "Don't worry about us, worry about this station and that enemy ship. Get rid of it, now!"

  "Affirmative. I have ordered our escort craft back."

  "Don't wait, destroy it now!"

  "Our ships are still too close. Wait...we are getting an energy signal from the enemy craft..."

  "Hit them, now!"

  "Oh, no..."

  The lights went down, and they felt the floor beneath them shake as something impacted with the station.

  "That's not good," said Alita.

  "Wright? Come in, Wright?"

  There was no response.

  "Fuck’s sake! Why couldn't he just have blown it out of the sky when he had the chance? Come on, we need to reach a hard line."

  Taylor strode onwards with a grunt. He was angry, and not just with the enemy. He went forward with such speed that Alita had to run to keep up. She watched him activate his shield and rush towards two of the enemy while firing on full auto. The first was riddled with bullets, but he reached the second under a hail of gunfire and swung his rifle into the creature’s neck, causing it to be smashed into the bulkhead. He fired a burst into its torso and carried on.

  He looked over to see Alita looking at the console they had been trying to reach. Smoke was bellowing from it, and it was completely fried.

  "Goddamn it, can we not catch just a little luck?"

  The corridors were quiet now. They had passed the mostly empty officers’ quarters and could see a medical station ahead. As they approached, the door slid open. They half expected more of the enemy pile out, but in the doorway stood a familiar shape - Babacan. He was bandaged up and had a spinal repair module still strapped to his back, and yet he carried a rifle in each hand as if he was on the prowl.

  They eagerly rushed to his side. Five bodies of the enemy were just inside the room where they had tried to get in. The beds had been overturned, and many of the wounded and medical personnel were huddled behind them with small arms. Most were too badly wounded to fight, and the medical staff looked terrified.

  "Nice work, hold this position, and take care of these people," ordered Taylor.

  It was clear Babacan wanted to weigh in on more of the action, but he did as asked.

  "You got a hard line to the bridge here?" Taylor asked the nearest doctor.