Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

  "No, but it's time I familiarised myself with the Independence."

  He walked on through several levels of the ship and gained a real feel for the vast scope of her hull. It seemed as though every one of the crew he passed recognised him, yet he didn't know a single one of them. He passed a number of their own regiment and didn't recognise them either, except for their uniforms. The crossed Assegai meant a lot to him, and he was glad to see they all wore them with pride.

  "She sure is large," said Alita.

  "Yep, and lot of space to cover if we get boarded."

  "Yes, but you have five thousand marines at your disposal."

  "Assuming they are all aboard when it happens, and we have over thirty decks to cover, none of which are small."

  "The way this thing is built no boarding party should ever get aboard."

  "Never make that mistake. Of thinking the enemy can't touch you. They'll always find a way."

  "Finally, he stopped when he reached a viewing deck that afforded them an open sight of the building work being carried out on the ships beside theirs.

  "Beautiful, aren't they?" Alita asked.

  "I wouldn't go as far as to say that, but they sure are welcome assets. Let's just hope they fly and fight as good as they look."

  Chapter 5

  "All crews prepare for take off."

  It was the order they had all been eagerly awaiting.

  "The time has come, Colonel. It's exciting, don't you think?" Wilcox asked.

  "Will be if she works," he replied and rested against a console behind the Captain's chair.

  "Have faith, Colonel, and prepare to be amazed."

  Taylor wasn't thus so far and glanced at Jones. He seemed to look a little more hopeful.

  "Start ignitions sequence," ordered Wilcox.

  The engines began to spool up, and they could feel the vibrations through every part of the ship. That went on for almost twenty seconds until finally they came to life. Wilcox turned to Taylor with a huge smile on his face.

  "You see Col..." he began.

  But he was silenced mid sentence as the engines cut out and warning lights flashed on the consoles all around them. Wilcox looked terrified. He rushed over to the engineering console where two of the crew were frantically trying to communicate with the engine room.

  "That went well," Taylor muttered to Jones.

  "Not like we have always got it right first time around."

  "True enough."

  He relaxed back and allowed the crews to work.

  "Just a minor glitch, Colonel," said Wilcox.

  Taylor nodded obligingly. He hoped the Captain was right, but the concern on his face showed he wasn't completely confident. A few moments later they heard the engines spool up once more and start. Nobody said a word and barely breathed while they waited to hear if they would keep running. Twenty seconds passed before one of the engineering staff finally broke the silence.

  "Engines reporting full power and responding correctly."

  Wilcox let out a huge sigh. "Okay, let's get this fine ship in the air!" he yelled triumphantly, "Helm, remove stabilisers and prepare to take us out."

  "Aye, aye, Sir."

  Just one minute later the engines roared, and they began to lift of the ground slowly and surely.

  "Sure would have been nice if they could have run a few test flights before we got underway."

  "Yes, and if Bolormaa had given us twenty-one days and not seven, maybe that could have happened."

  "Mmm, I suppose so."

  He knew Jones had a good point. They began to pick up pace, and Wilcox once again turned around to Taylor.

  "Sorry about that, Colonel. The engines are still not even run in. They can take a little work to get them running at the moment."

  "As long as we don't drop out of the sky, I'll be happy," he replied.

  Wilcox still didn't look comfortable. He didn't appear to have as much faith in the ship as he let on. They had been slow to get off the ground, but the vast engines were now propelling them towards the atmosphere at a phenomenal pace. No one said a word as they watched the vast screens before them. They soon broke out of the atmosphere and passed the vast Earth defence grid system that had recently been trebled in size. An Alliance fleet of thirty large warships lay in wait beside it.

  "The enemy is going to have a real fight on their hands if they turn up here," said Wilcox.

  Taylor nodded to appease him, but he didn't share the sentiment. He had seen the best of defences overcome enough times not to place too much reliance or hope on them. He looked down at the pad on his arm to check the time and date.

  "What is it?" Jones asked.

  "Two days and it will be Bolormaa's deadline."

  "Yes, not long at all."

  When they were well clear of the atmosphere, Wilcox turned around to address Taylor.

  "Well, Colonel, my orders are to follow your command. The Independence is yours to do with as you please. What would you have us do?"

  "Get us back to our fleet. We shouldn't be going anywhere alone."

  "I assure you we are not alone, Colonel. This vessel carries everything needed to fight in space and on the ground."

  "Maybe, but we don't take chances we don't need to. We have no idea what is coming for us in two days’ time. Get back to our fleet, to the Guam and the others."

  "Plot a course for the Fifth Fleet."

  "That what we are called now?" Jones asked.

  "It's what the survivors of your last expedition have become known as, along with those vessels brought in to reinforce them, and the Battlecruiser Resolution under Admiral Vega who now commands the fleet."

  "Vega?"

  "Oh, you don't know Vega? They call him an old warhorse. Past retirement age but stayed in service when the war began. He is almost as famous as you now, Colonel."

  "Why is this the first I am hearing of him?"

  Wilcox shrugged and clearly had no idea.

  "I remember reading a few reports about Vega. A Captain until very recently, he sure has risen in the ranks fast."

  "Sir, course is plotted."

  "We are ready to jump on your command, Colonel," said Wilcox.

  "Do it," he said without hesitation.

  Wilcox turned back around to his crews.

  "An Admiral in command, something tells me he’s not going to be too happy about you muscling in," whispered Jones.

  "I don't intend to muscle in anywhere. I don't want anyone else's job. I’ve got enough to do as it is. If he's up to the task, then I'll gladly serve under him."

  "And that's the problem, isn't it? You don't believe anyone is up to the task."

  "Not everyone disappoints me. You haven't."

  "Jump in five, four, three, two...jump."

  "Here we go again," said Taylor.

  They passed through the light and came out on the other side to a brutal space battle that was underway right before their eyes. A Morohtan warship had engaged the fleet. Missile trails and pulse weapons flashed back and forth as fighters engaged one another. It was hard to believe it for a moment.

  "Wh...wh...I," stuttered Wilcox.

  "Get us to battle stations!" Taylor barked, "Launch fighters!"

  "We...we can't," said Wilcox.

  "What do you mean we can't?" Taylor demanded.

  "Launch tubes are still being worked on. They won't be ready for at least twelve hours, Sir."

  Taylor shook his head.

  Goddamnit! I knew it was too good to be true.

  "Weapon systems?"

  "Ammunition it still being delivered. It only arrived just before we departed."

  "Whatever you have got, send it their way now!"

  "A couple of batteries maybe, that is all we have ready."

  Taylor looked at the projection before them. A dozen ships of the fleet were engaged with the Morohtan vessel three times their size, and comparable to the Independence. Five other recently destroyed vessels floated as hulks. The Guam was at t
he centre of the head of the fleet and taking the worst of the impacts across her bow. The mighty Resolution was throwing everything it had at the enemy, but it wasn't doing enough.

  "Hold. Rescind that order, hold fire!"

  "What?" Wilcox asked in amazement.

  "Take us about their stern, nice and close. Target their engines and open all gun ports."

  "But...we don't have anything substantial enough to damage that."

  "No, but they don't know that. Do it!"

  He relayed the orders, and they began to drive forwards around the vessel’s flank.

  "Dangerous game you are playing here."

  "Tell me we have another choice, Jones. We aren't ready for this fight."

  Flashes of light soared towards them as gun batteries opened up. The volleys rocked the ship ever so slightly but seemed to do modest damage. Other batteries soon turned on them. A vicious volley struck their flank, and warning lights flashed all around. Another soon followed.

  "We've got two breaches. We can't take much more of this! They are hitting us with everything they have!" Wilcox yelled.

  "We have to keep going! If we stop, we die!"

  "Colonel, you are going to get us all killed!"

  "Just keep going!"

  They were coming up on the aft of the enemy ship.

  "All batteries lock and prepare to fire!"

  "They haven't got anything to fire," replied Wilcox.

  "Just do it!" Taylor screamed.

  "All batteries, all batteries, target and lock enemy engines. I repeat target and lock, prepare to fire on my command."

  The enemy engines flashed a vivid green colour, and there was some distortion before a bright flash made them all look away. Finally, it died down, and they turned back to see it had gone. Wilcox gasped in relief before turning his fury on Taylor.

  "You almost got us all killed!" he said as he paced towards Taylor, pointing his finger. Jones stepped in his path and placed a firm hand to his chest, stopping his weak body from taking a step further. "No, Captain, the Colonel just saved us all."

  "What? We didn’t beat them. They just left.”

  “And why do you think that happened?”

  Wilcox looked confused.

  “Taylor threatened them. He played their bluff. Put the biggest ship here on their arse and threatened to leave them stranded and at our mercy.”

  “But we couldn’t have done any real damage to that thing.”

  “No, but they didn’t know that. Taylor told you that.”

  It was starting to strike home with the Captain quite what had happened. Jones backed away so that the Captain was left staring down Taylor.

  “Sometimes being smart is better than being strong,” said Taylor, “As the leader of this crew, that is a lesson you need to learn.”

  He paced up closer to the Captain so he could speak more privately.

  “We weren’t ready for this. You told me this ship was ready, why?”

  “Be..be…because I wanted to impress you, to be able to tell you what you wanted to hear.”

  Taylor shook his head, trying to control his anger.

  “Don’t you ever do that again. Don’t ever lie to me. Don’t ever give me anything but the straight truth. I need to know I can trust the information I am given by the people around me. Without that trust, I cannot see us through this, you got me?”

  “Yes, Sir, I’m sorry. I really am sorry.”

  Taylor realised some of the other bridge crew had been listening in. He didn’t want to embarrass the man. He just wanted to make his point clear.

  “Sorry is worth nothing. Lead this crew, like they should to be led. Don’t apologise. Don’t say sorry. Stand tall, and be the Captain they need you to be, and I need you to be.”

  He nodded appreciatively as the comms officer spoke up, “Sir, I have Admiral Vega for you.”

  Wilcox looked to Taylor one last time for acceptance. Taylor nodded. “Carry on.”

  “Put him through!”

  The Admiral appeared before them. He was in his sixties and a little overweight. He was balding and what hair he did have was mostly grey. He had a stern look upon his face and blood trailing down from a wound above his eye. Sparks flew from a damaged module behind him.

  “I don’t know who you are or how you managed to pull that off, but I thank you, Captain.”

  “It’s not me you have to thank, Sir. Colonel Taylor got us through that. It was he who gave the orders.”

  “Taylor?”

  “I’m here, Admiral.”

  “What the hell do you know about flying a ship?” he asked. Before Taylor could answer, the Admiral went on, “Clearly quite a bit. Colonel, your timing is quite exceptional. That vessel blocked all transmission out, and I am not sure we could have survived what was coming next.”

  “Glad we could help.”

  “So, the rumours about you. They always seemed a little far fetched, maybe I might start believing them if you carry on like this.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “Word I heard is their leader gave you seven days. Well, the way I figure it, we had two days left.”

  “I guess you can’t trust the enemy,” replied Taylor.

  “Clearly.”

  “Why didn’t you fire on her when you had the chance, Colonel?”

  “No ammunition. I came out here on the pretence that this was a combat ready ship. Seems that ain’t the whole truth.”

  “Hell of a time to find out. So you went at her with nothing at all?”

  Taylor nodded.

  Wilcox laughed. “Colonel, you must have balls of solid steel.”

  “That was the only play we had. Taking the only option doesn’t seem so heroic.”

  “You could have run. New ship like that, I bet you could have spooled up and left us to it, no trouble at all.”

  “Maybe, but I came here to fight.”

  “Well, you came to the right place, Colonel. Before we were attacked, we received word of an attack on Kapteyn. Before we could get word out or respond to the distress signals, we were hit by that God awful thing.”

  “They jammed the signals as soon as they jumped in?”

  “Yes, we sent out probes to try and relay the signal, but far as we can see, that didn’t help. I have just forwarded the message to Alliance Command and sent warnings out to about everywhere we can think to.”

  “So what’s our next move, Sir?”

  “Are you with us?”

  “We sure are.”

  “Then I mean to leave no one behind. My orders are to investigate and relay any sightings of enemy contact, and to only engage should there be a substantial risk to life. There are five million people still on Kapteyn.”

  “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.”