Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

  He turned and looked back at the others. Taylor and the woman looked around and found they were the only three still standing. Jones stood at the sideline with a bleeding nose.

  “You’re a big help!” Taylor yelled.

  Jones just shrugged and smiled. Taylor looked back at both of them as they formed a triangle, equidistant to one another.

  “Well, what do you know? Brains, brawn, and beauty remain,” he said, smiling.

  The woman rushed towards him as if nothing had changed between them. He reached forward to grasp her shirt, but she struck him in the face with a punch and closed to strike again. Taylor spun out and delivered a crippling back fist to her face. She went down hard, but he didn’t have time to follow it up as he heard the battle cry of the huge soldier rushing for him like a raging bull. He turned in time to see his attacker and struck a punch into his flank, but it barely seemed to scratch the man who dealt a hammer fist down onto the top of his head.

  Taylor felt his legs buckle, and he dropped to his knee. His eyes connected with Alita, and the look on his face spoke a thousand words. He could not lose this. He forced himself upright and backed off a few paces as the giant rushed at him once again. As the man neared, he took hold of his wrist. He rolled back down onto the floor, placing his foot into the man’s stomach and launched him upwards.

  He flew two metres over Taylor’s head and crashed into the ecstatic crowd. Taylor was back up on his feet, weak, but still standing. He smiled as the blood dripped from his mouth. He was triumphant, or so he thought, but then felt someone leap onto his back and arms wrap around his throat. He could tell it was the same woman he had struck down. Her arms were locked firmly as he tried to fight back, but he was already weak. He dropped down to his knees and fell forward, feeling the energy drain from his body as he was starved of oxygen.

  Finally, he reached forward and tapped the ground, and she released. She quickly did so, and he dropped to the floor gasping for air, but he soon recovered. He stood back up and was still smiling as if he had won.

  “What’s your name?”

  “Sommer,” she replied proudly.

  Taylor stepped up beside her, grabbed her right arm, and thrust it into the air.

  “Winner!” he declared.

  The crowd went wild, and he turned to look at Jones and Alita’s faces. They both understood now. They were as one. In one brutal fight, he had forged a brotherhood and comradery that could not likely be earned in years in any other way.

  Chapter 3

  The hulking soldier and the Krys warrior staggered back into the arena. Both looked humbled by their loss, and angry with themselves for losing. The crowd were still clapping and cheering like it was the best thing they had ever seen in their lives. He invited the Krys officer to come forward.

  "I am glad to know that you are on our side," he said, patting the man on the side of the arm. The alien’s ego was a little sore, but he seemed impressed by Taylor. Alita came forward and handed him his equipment. He opened a channel on his microphone and lifted his hand to call for silence.

  "I am glad you are entertained! A lot of officers expect those they command to fight for them, but not here. If you signed up to fight with me, you signed up to fight on the frontline, no matter who you are. Every single man and woman in this Regiment is as valuable as one another. We are an elite fighting force. There is no room for weakness. No room for idleness or passing the buck. We are fighters. We were born to be. If you volunteered to fight with me, then you must have known that. Anyone who isn't willing to be at the front covered in blood and filth better leave now, because if you stay, you are in it till the very end. We are the Immortals. We don't break. We don't run. We don't lose. Are you with me?"

  They erupted into a cry of support. He looked around and found the new recruits and his closest friends had already begun to mingle, and that made him smile. He lifted his hand to call for silence once again.

  "In a few days’ time we are going to be fighting a war the likes of which you have never seen. But you are ready for it. You are as ready as any one can ever be for what is coming. Twenty-four hour passes for you all. You may take it wherever you like, for you are free men. But if you care to join me, then there will be a party for you all to remember."

  There was a resounding roar of approval.

  * * *

  The sun was starting to go down when a light, wheeled vehicle rolled up with General Greer sitting in the passenger seat. The vehicle came to a halt beside where they had all fought earlier that day. She stood up to address them as Taylor rose up to salute her, but she waved it off casually.

  "The drinks await you, follow me!" she declared.

  They were on their feet in seconds and followed the vehicle. A few minutes had passed as they trudged on foot.

  "Think she really pulled out the stops for you?" Jones asked.

  "She has in every other way, hasn't she?"

  "Trust you to get everything you wanted and then ask for more," added Alita.

  "They deserve it. We all do. So many people have sat pretty on Earth. Watching the war from a distance as they get on with their lives, as if it would never reach them. Time we got a little of that treatment before we're back on the line."

  "Can't argue with that."

  They walked another few minutes before taking a bend into a vast PT area with four football pitches, but that wasn't the feature that drew their gaze. Six huge marquees had been set up, and lights glistened at the entrances. The smell of sizzling pork filled the air from the hog roasts, and they could see hundreds of beer kegs stacked up beside the tents. They stopped, and not a one of them could find a word until Taylor broke the silence.

  "I'm in heaven."

  The others waited for a word from the General before making a sound.

  "This night is yours, enjoy it!"

  That was enough for them. The recruits made a beeline for the marquees as if it were a race, and the veterans of the Immortals were not far behind. Taylor approached the General's vehicle as the troops poured past it.

  "Once again you have my thanks, General."

  "I can't say I agree with your methods or entirely understand them. They certainly aren't my way, but the one thing that cannot be refuted is that you get results. And for that reason alone, I will do everything I can to support you."

  "Will you join us for a drink?"

  "That I can't. As I said before, there is too much work to be done. Good luck with them," she said, pointing to the thousands of troops pouring into the fields, "I hope they do you proud."

  "Thank you, Sir."

  She sat back down, and her vehicle sped off into the distance.

  "Well, I'll be damned. A General with some common sense and manners all rolled into one. I never thought I'd see the day," he said to Alita and Jones.

  "You had to get lucky one day," replied Jones.

  "Can you believe it? The General went and threw us a full on party."

  The music started up, and Taylor knew they were going to be in for a good night.

  "Not that I am saying that wasn't a fun display earlier, but do you think it was the best way to induct the troops into the Regiment?"

  "Sure, look at them," he said, pointing to the veterans and new recruits chatting as though they were old friends.

  "They don't need more training right now. They need to feel at home, and to know what they are fighting for when we go out there to face the enemy. It's times like this that make it all worth it."

  "I am sure for many of them that their families will give them reason enough," Jones said, thinking of his own wife.

  Taylor nodded in agreement, and it was only then that Jones realised what a sore subject he had touched on.

  "God, I'm sorry, Mitch. You know I didn't mean it like that."

  "It's okay. I am long since done worrying about a few badly chosen words between friends. And I have a family. They are right here, and that family just got a whole lot bigger. What is there to complain a
bout? Come on, let's not miss our own party."

  He strolled on to where the food was being handed out and quickly found a glass of beer being thrust into his hands by Sommer. He gladly accepted it, and a few of the others made sure Jones and Hariz were taken care of.

  "Did you give me all back there?" she asked.

  Taylor nodded, but she only laughed.

  "Yeah, right. That's okay. I'll take my victory, anyway."

  "So you should. You fought well today."

  He clashed his glass with hers and threw it back, enjoying the music for a moment. As he lowered it, he noticed the Krys contingent amassed together, segregated.

  "They don't mingle, why not?"

  Sommer shrugged.

  "They’ve been like that since they got here. It’s difficult to get a word out of them. They train hard, but they aren't the friendliest of types."

  "No?" he asked and gestured towards Babacan to step forward.

  "You shed any light on this? Why don't they mingle with the rest of us?"

  "Because they do not see any of us as their equal."

  "Is that so?" replied Taylor with a smile.

  "I thought these were all volunteers?" Jones asked, "Surely that would mean they wanted to be here and respected the others for it?"

  Babacan shook his head.

  "They are not volunteers."

  "How'd you know?"

  "Because with a chance for war, the best Krys warriors would do anything to fight at the side of Jafar or one of the other great Lords."

  "So you're saying they resent having to come here and fight with us?"

  He nodded confidently.

  "Why? Because they don't think we are worthy to stand and fight beside them?"

  He got the same response.

  "Well, that won't do at all," said Jones.

  He took a pace towards them, but Taylor grabbed his arm and stopped him.

  "I'll handle it."

  But Jones shook him off and carried on.

  "No, no, you had your fun earlier on. Now it's my turn."

  Taylor didn't want to let him continue, but he had to trust in Jones, just as he had trusted in his forbear.

  "What's he gonna do?"

  "Well, I guess, Sommer, he is gonna prove why they are nothing more than our equals."

  "What? How?"

  "This could get ugly," said Alita.

  They all strode forward so they could hear what was about to go on, but stopped short enough as to not be involved.

  "He's not gonna really pick a fight, is he?"

  "I think he's going to ask politely for them to show some respect."

  "That will not go down well," stated Babacan.

  The alien stood firmly on their side of things, and Taylor could see the Krys looked down on him for that reason, as well as the handful of other Krys soldiers that had joined the Immortals along the way.

  "So you're going to let this be sorted with a fight?"

  "Look at them, Sommer. They are arrogant. They think they are so much bigger and tougher than the rest of us," said Taylor.

  "That's because they are, Colonel."

  "Bigger yes, not tougher, and not smarter, as they are about to find out."

  "He could really get hurt here. Do you know how strong they are?"

  "I think the Colonel knows more than anyone. He fought them for long enough," snapped Alita.

  "Yes, of course, sorry, Sir. But that was you, not the Captain."

  "And you think people were tougher in my day, is that it?"

  "Not people, you. They say you are Kahram, a great hero of old."

  "They, who?"

  He remembered what she spoke of and that day Jafar had used the legend to benefit their cause.

  "Just people, but so many believe it. They believe you cannot be killed, and that there is a great prophecy about you."

  Taylor laughed. "The Dusmus Kahraman, you mean."

  "Yes, that's it," she said with hope and enthusiasm.

  "Well, do you believe it?"

  She shrugged. "I don't know. I want to. We need a hero like that on our side."

  "Well, they certainly don't," said Taylor, pointing to the Krys that Jones now stood in front of. He had stopped just two metres away from a group that were deep in discussion with their officer at the centre.

  "Not many people believe in the old legends, anyway," said Babacan.

  "No? Why's that?"

  "Because you killed the last Krys who claimed to be the Dusmus Kahraman."

  Taylor chuckled. "Well, what do you know, a false prophet?"

  "You would be wise to not claim what you cannot prove. They will not respect you for it," he added sternly.

  "I never said I was anything but a marine. Now watch and learn how the game is played."

  Jones just stood there confidently with his arms crossed and stared at the Krys officer until they could ignore him no longer. He pushed past those talking with him and squared off against Jones.

  "What do you want, little man?" he asked in an aggressive tone.

  Jones coughed to clear his throat and then responded in an excessively polite and formal manner that would be insulting, if it hadn't gone over the alien’s head.

  "Well, it's like this, the chaps over there say you think you are better than the rest of us."

  "Aren't we?"

  "I think you're rather forgetting who won the War, old chap."

  "You didn't win the War. He did," he responded and pointed to Taylor.

  "And I suppose you think a war is fought by one man, do you?"

  The Krys officer didn't look impressed.

  "What is your name, Lieutenant?" Jones asked.

  "Turan."

  "Well, Turan, you see the attitude of you and your men presents me with some issues."

  He did not respond.

  "We are equals here, and it is vital that we consider each other as such so that we can work as one undefeatable block in battle. We need to be like family."

  Turan didn't look impressed.

  "What do you want?" he snarled.

  "I want to show you why you are wrong, and why you will become part of this family, whether I have to drag you kicking and screaming through the next days and weeks or not."

  "You have a big mouth for a little man."

  Jones smiled, looking back at Taylor as if to ask for permission for what he was about to do. Taylor wasn't even sure what that was, but he nodded anyway. He trusted in Jones and had faith in him. He just hoped he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew. He looked back at the alien who was waiting for some response.

  "Here's the deal," he began.

  He took off the pips Taylor had so recently given him and put them down on a table beside them.

  "You and I, no weapons, until one can't stand or taps out."

  The alien smiled arrogantly as Jones continued.

  "You win, and you can have my Captaincy and stand as the second most senior officer in the Regiment, and if I..."

  "It doesn't matter. You will not win."

  Jones ignored him, and his tone turned very serious.

  "If I win. You will quit being the whiny little bitches that you are and treat the rest of this regiment with the respect they deserve!"

  Nobody said a word, and the music had been stopped so as many as possible could hear what was going on.

  "This is crazy. You're not gonna let him go through with this?" Sommer asked Taylor.

  "She's right. This could get ugly," added Alita.

  "Have a little faith. If you can't have it now, how can you have it in battle when it really matters?"

  "But he could get seriously hurt," said Sommer.

  "Yes he could, but there are bigger concerns at play here. Let him handle it. I made him Captain because I knew he was up to the task."

  Turan began to laugh as if the whole situation was absurd.

  "So you accept, then!"

  "Fight a little man for promotion?" he asked as he laughed once aga
in, "How can I refuse?"

  The crowd parted. At least a few hundred were able to gather around in a makeshift arena for them. Turan stood his ground confidently while Jones bounced around the perimeter like a boxer before a match. He had a huge smile on his face. As he passed Taylor, the Colonel muttered, "Failure is not an option."

  "Got it," he replied.

  He squared off against the alien.

  "You ready?"

  Turan grunted.

  "Well you are a great conversationalist. Righto, let's settle this like gentlemen. Colonel, if you will do the honours."

  "Both ready!" Taylor yelled.

  They both nodded.

  "Fight!" Taylor declared without any more warning.

  Turan let out a battle cry and rushed towards Jones like a raging bull, just as Taylor would have expected.

  "Always the same," he said quietly.

  "Aggression and power usually win," said Babacan.

  "I don't agree," replied Taylor.

  Jones ducked under his striking and backed off.

  "Whoa, you're pretty fast."

  He looked surprised and a little intimidated by Turan, but that only made Taylor smile because he could see what was afoot.

  "Why are you smiling?" Sommer asked, "He could get killed in there."

  Taylor did not respond.

  Turan rushed up to Jones and swung a heavy strike towards his head. Jones ducked under and delivered a quick snap to the side of his head with the back of his fist. It was enough to rock Turan who stumbled back a little, but came back even more angrily. He cocked his arm back for a powerful swing, but Jones jabbed him in the face twice. It knocked his head back, but still he came in with the swing. Jones quickly spun off elegantly to one side.

  Taylor remembered sparring with him. He was a fast and precise fighter, and he'd learnt a lot more since then.

  Turan stepped forward confidently once again as though his power would win the day. He towered over Jones, and yet the newly appointed Captain showed no fear at all. In fact, he was still smiling. He delivered a quick and punishing kick to Turan's lead leg that wobbled him slightly and followed it with another. That took both his legs out from under him. He crashed down heavily to his side.