Battle Beyond Earth Box Set

by Nick S. Thomas

  "My ship is inside whatever that is," said Irala as he pointed to the whitewashed vessel.

  The paint looked like it had been applied decades or even centuries ago, as it was well worn. Both vessels were badly damaged, and yet still smashing each other to pieces like two galleons from the age of sail. Neither seemed willing to let up. Fires raged on many decks of both vessels.

  "All these years Zaya must have laid in wait for his moment to strike. All the time waiting for what, the spear?"

  "The spear is everything to them. You must know that by now," Irala said.

  A small number of lights flashed beside them as the few support vessels Bolormaa had left jumped out.

  "They're abandoning her?"

  "They think she's going to die, Jones, and they don't want to be here to deal with the aftermath," replied Taylor. He couldn’t believe his luck.

  "Sir, we're being hailed by Admiral Vega."

  "Put him through."

  "Colonel Taylor, both Morohtan vessels have taken severe engine damage and are incapable of jumping out. I don't know what to say," stated Vega as he appeared before them.

  "I'd like to say break out the popcorn, but let's not count a victory just yet, Admiral."

  "Bring us to a stop. I don't want to get any closer to that mess than we have to."

  They came to a halt, the entire fleet, just watching the two titanic vessels rip one another apart.

  "Are we going to get in on this?"

  Taylor shrugged. "Maybe not, Admiral."

  "We want to see Zaya win this, right?" Jones asked.

  "We want to see Bolormaa dead, and the only ones I want to see win this is us. We still have no idea what we're mixing with. If I could see the whole fucking Morohtan race dead, I would."

  "And yet you would have said the same about the Krys once, wouldn't you?"

  "Yes, I would have."

  "And would you still want that now?"

  Taylor shook his head.

  "It might have saved us a whole load of trouble, though."

  "Yes, because the great Colonel Mitch Taylor always takes the easy path, right?" Jones smiled.

  Taylor smiled back. He couldn't believe how quickly their luck was changing and turned back to watch the battle that was still raging. For several more minutes the fighting went on until Bolormaa's vessel stopped firing, and the other had so few weapons left still in operation that it too ceased firing.

  "What are they doing?" Wilcox asked.

  "This was always going to be settled face-to-face," said Jones.

  "You need a body to prove that Queen bitch is dead, and if the myths are true, only that damn spear would do the job, anyway," replied Taylor.

  "The myths are true."

  "You know that, do you, Irala?"

  "You saw the spear kill a Prince, and even now you still doubt it?"

  "Yep? I saw Zaya kill one, too, and he didn't need a damn spear."

  "But Bolormaa is not one of them. She is all powerful."

  "Well, I've know a few beings who thought they were all that, and they didn't live to keep telling the tale."

  Irala did not look convinced. Taylor wasn't sure himself, but he had to believe there were more ways than just relying on that antiquated weapon that they didn't even have in their possession.

  "So what now?"

  As Jones said it, a hatch opened on the rebel’s ship, and six vessels flew out from it. Four were large assault vessels, the other two the small Aranui craft that Zaya had stolen. They were heading right for Bolormaa's battleship, and she didn't have a single weapon still active to throw against them.

  "I guess Zaya really does mean business."

  "Are we going to let this go on and do nothing?" Jones asked.

  Taylor got up and looked around to see there was some hope on all their faces. Hope that he had not seen since stepping aboard.

  "Zaya is going after the Queen, that bitch that did this to us all. I am not saying we can trust him in any way, but at present his goals are the same as ours. I intend to make sure he succeeds. I am going aboard that vessel. I don't care what horrors might be there. Zaya is willing to give up his life in the hope of killing Bolormaa, and I will do the same. Admiral, this isn't your fight, anymore. It's ours. The battle will be ended on foot and with our bare hands."

  He turned to Jones.

  "This could be the death of anyone who gets involved. I would ask for volunteers."

  "Not from the Immortals. They accepted the fact they had volunteered for this the moment they signed on."

  "Then we go, the whole Regiment. Our fate will be decided on that battleship, the same as Bolormaa’s."

  "Colonel, we could still hit her ship with nuclear weapons. We could end it here," said Vega.

  Taylor shook his head. "We've tried that before. You know it won't work. Clearly, the only thing that can destroy one of those battleships is another of the same. I want Bolormaa's head for all to see."

  "Then good luck, Colonel. We will be waiting to support you in any capacity that we can."

  "All right, what are waiting for? We have a job to do." He and Jones stepped off the bridge. Irala trailed after them.

  "You aren't joining us, are you?"

  "Sorry, Colonel, but I cannot."

  "Can't, or won't, Irala?"

  "Maybe one day you will understand the value of our lives."

  "Oh, I get it. Ours are worth less. It's no wonder your people could never stand a chance of beating Bolormaa. You don't have the stomach for it."

  Irala had nothing more to say. He looked slightly ashamed, but he backed away and left them to go. Taylor did feel a little sorry for him. He knew why he did what he did, but he couldn't help but feel a little betrayed at a time when they needed him most.

  "So this is really it, the final battle?"

  Taylor shrugged. "It could be, Jones. It could be."

  "This is the moment, the final moment. This is what you were brought back for. How does it feel?"

  Taylor smirked.

  "If I survive this, maybe they'll put me back in a box and display me in a museum somewhere until the next emergency."

  Jones rested his hand on Taylor's shoulder.

  "I was joking. You know you mean a lot more to us all than just the blunt instrument our commanders use you as."

  Taylor didn't look convinced. All he could think about was how he wished Alita could be there. He wouldn't want to risk her life, but he would never forget how she saved his.

  "If I don't make it through this, you promise me you'll take care of her?"

  He hadn't even said her name, but Jones knew precisely what he meant.

  "You have my word, but if anyone will make it out of this, it will be you. You always do, you lucky son of a bitch."

  It made him smile to hear Jones cursing.

  "Listen to the mouth on you," he replied with a smile.

  They were soon at the docking bay where their ships awaited them. The bodies from the last battle had gone, but many of the scars to the inner hull remained. Stains from pools of blood still marked the floors. Only the platoon leaders awaited them, for the rest of the Regiment were loaded up, or as many of them that could be carried on the transports.

  "Okay, then, gather around," said Taylor. He stopped before a crate with Bilgunn’s hammer set atop waiting for him. He picked it up and rested on the haft as it came up to his shoulders.

  "I don't know what that ship will look like when we get inside, what kind of enemy we will face, or even their strength. All we do know is that their Queen is aboard. Bolormaa, she is the key to all of this, and I would pay any amount to see her dead. If I had to pay the price of every soul in this Regiment, then that is a price I would be willing to pay. Don't mistake me for an uncaring type. I just know what terror Bolormaa will continue to unleash on all of our peoples. If you want to save your loved ones, and our future generations the death and despair that she will cause, you will give everything you have to give. Do you understand
me?"

  They grunted and groaned in approval. It was a sober affair. Not one of them doubted Taylor, but after all he had told them about the alien Queen, they were terrified of what they were about to embark on.

  "That’s enough. When we get aboard, we split up, sweep and clear. You do not stop until you find Bolormaa. They say she can't be killed with anything but this magical fucking spear that cost us so much to acquire. Well, I don't know about that. You find her, you put a few hundred rounds in her head, and we'll see. If comms remain up, you relay all known sightings of Bolormaa, as and when you get them. If not, you send runners, in fireteams of four. There is only one goal here, and you all know it; nothing else matters. Everything we have done in our lives led us to this point. All our training, all our sacrifices, it was all for this. Don't forget it. Good luck to you all."

  They split apart and loaded up. Jones and Taylor went together aboard the same craft. They needed to know they had each other’s backs. They took their seats and waited for liftoff.

  "Not exactly the most rousing and positive speech you've ever given," said Jones.

  Taylor just shrugged it off.

  "I gave them the truth. Now let's find this bitch and end her."

  Chapter 14

  The look on the faces of those around Taylor was stone cold. They were ready and willing to do what needed to be done, but still terrified of what they would likely face. They had all seen the state Taylor had come back in upon his last meeting with Bolormaa, and it was impossible to forget.

  "Is this it? Is this really it?"

  Taylor nodded. "It could be, Jones."

  "We were looking at a war without an end in sight. Or not without the destruction of us all, and now look where we are."

  Taylor wanted to believe that were the case. He prayed that it was.

  "Maybe fortune is smiling on us today."

  Taylor nodded as he opened a channel to the Regiment. It was open for all the fleet to hear, and even the enemy if they so wanted. He didn't care who heard it.

  "This is Colonel Taylor speaking. We have just embarked on the single most important mission of this war, and of any of our lifetimes. Bolormaa, the Morohtan Queen, she wants to kill or enslave every one of us and all those you hold dear. We may be descending into a hellish place, but we do it so that everyone at home doesn't have to. The end is in sight now. It is within our grasp."

  He stopped, took a breath, and then noticed Jones nod in approval of his words.

  "None of our lives are more important than the completion of the mission. That does not mean throw yours away. No man ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor, dumb bastard die for his. A great man in the pages of human history said that. It is no less true today. Some of us, many of us in fact, may well live to see another day, and those who do not will be honoured as heroes to every generation for centuries to come. Don't fear what is to come. It is the path we always had to walk. It wasn't fate or destiny. You all stood up and took on the responsibility of protecting our people, and today you get the chance of a lifetime to make that happen. Good luck to you all."

  There was silence in the craft for a few moments until Jones began to clap slowly. Others soon joined him, as whistles and cheers broke out and they began to chant.

  "Taylor, Taylor, Taylor!"

  He felt a little humbled by it, but he didn't want to stop them, as they were finally psyching themselves up for the mental and physical trauma they were about to face. He let them go on for a few minutes as he watched the video feed from the cockpit.

  "Pipe down now!" he called as they made their final descent.

  He gripped the haft of the hammer with both hands, and as he did, he noticed the rune like inscriptions on the head glowed brighter.

  “It likes you,” said Jones.

  “That is an unholy weapon,” said Babacan.

  “What do you care?” Taylor asked. He sounded surprised, “Krys have never cared where they get their armaments from.”

  “You forget the superstitions of my people. It is what led them to Earth, and it is why they follow you now. Because of prophecy.”

  “Bullshit, they follow me because I kick ass, and the Krys have always respected strength.”

  But Babacan looked unconvinced.

  “So you wouldn’t use this? A great and powerful weapon that might give us some chance against one of those things, or even Bolormaa herself?”

  Babacan shrugged.

  “Yeah, well, if the time comes, I bet you won’t be so damn pious. The Krys are fighters, survivors the same as us.”

  Taylor turned his attention back to the screen to see they were approaching a lit up energy field that opened up into a vast docking bay. The crews didn’t hesitate. They had seen Zaya’s ships pass through without incident. But Taylor remembered back to the dome on Kapteyn and hoped it would not be like it. He closed his eyes as the nose of their craft met with the energy field and opened them back up a few seconds later to see they had gone right through.

  The docking bay was as large as some ship building facilities on Earth, large enough for a few frigates at least. They could see one smaller Morohtan warship in a stage of repair at the other end of the hangar. There was no sign of life as they came into land beside the Aranui ships that were also abandoned. They hit the ground, and Taylor was on the ramp before it had even touched the deck.

  Bodies lay scattered all around, but there were no wounded or alive. There had been a short and brutal battle to get aboard. A number of the Morohtan bodies had white stripes painted across their armour, in much the way Zaya’s ship had been whitewashed.

  “Must be Zaya’s rebels. They have marked themselves for identification,” said Jones.

  Taylor smiled. “So Bolormaa has a civil war on her hands.”

  “I guess you can’t rule as a dictator forever. That’s food for thought.”

  Taylor knew that was directed at him, and he couldn’t help but feel it was true. He had risen to a position of power way beyond anyone could have imagined. He had bossed Alliance leaders around as though he was King, but he didn’t have time to discuss it right then. He knew he did what he did for the right reasons, but it was not lost on him how damaging that could be.

  He observed hundreds of troops pouring out from the transports behind them. He opened a comms channel and was relieved to find they were still working. He could only think that was a result of the damage the ship had taken.

  “You all know the deal. I have no better idea on the plan of this ship than any of you. My Company is following this trail of bodies. The rest of you spread out and see what you can find. The white painted Morohtan warriors, they might be friendly. I stress might! Do not fire unless fired upon. Stay focused, kill any enemy targets you find, but remember the goal is Bolormaa. She is all that matters. Good luck.”

  He looked out at the docking bay and realised the ship was more like a floating city than anything he had seen before. It dwarfed the Nakbe, a vessel that had always been jaw dropping to see and awe-inspiring to be aboard. He started moving with Jones close beside him. He held the hammer in his shield hand and his rifle at the ready. For ten minutes they made their way through magnificent rooms and corridors finding nothing but bodies. They couldn’t even hear any gunfire.

  For every dead rebel there were at least ten of Bolormaa’s, and yet they looked near identical.

  “They must be elite fighters, Zaya’s people,” said Jones.

  Taylor nodded in agreement.

  “I guess when you’ve had that many years to harbour resentment and plan for revenge, you make sure you’re ready to dish it out when the time comes.”

  “You think Zaya has a good cause?”

  “I do, but that doesn’t make him a good person. That remains to be seen. We cannot forget the atrocities that he will have committed as a pawn of Bolormaa.”

  Jones could see he knew more than he was letting on. He grabbed Taylor’s arm and stopped him.

/>   “Full discretion, I need to know what we are dealing with,” he insisted.

  “Zaya was involved in the Aranui war.”

  “Involved? How involved?”

  Jones could see from the look on Taylor’s face that it was bad.

  “I never said he was a good person,” insisted Taylor.

  “So we are backing one genocidal maniac over another?”

  “Zaya did what he did because of orders, Bolormaa’s orders.”

  “That’s no excuse, and you know it, Mitch!”

  “No, probably not, but we can’t always pick our friends. He might be just what we need.”

  “A murderous lunatic who wants to kill his mother?”

  “I didn’t say it was a perfect situation, but it is what it is. Where would we be right now if it wasn’t for Zaya?”

  “Probably with the Pauri Tau in hand, for a start.”

  “We both know it isn’t that simple. Bolormaa was coming for the spear, whether we like it or not.”

  Jones groaned. He was less and less happy with the situation as Taylor disclosed each new piece of information. They heard the sound of footsteps around a corner and drew to a halt, raising their rifles to the ready. Seconds later, a warrior stumbled past, and they opened fire with several bursts that killed it before it even hit the ground. They went forward for a closer look. It had a gaping wound in its flank caused by a thrust from a large blade that had pierced its body right through.

  “Zaya,” said Taylor.

  “Have you ever thought that even if we can take Bolormaa down, we might have to face something just as bad in him?”

  “The thought crossed my mind, but let’s deal with trouble as and when we find it.”

  They came into a vast crossroads section to find bodies scattered all around just as before. In the middle of the room was the body of a six-legged armoured creature five times the size of any Morohtan warrior. Its body was shaking violently, but its head lay separated a few metres away where it had been cut clean off.

  “What the hell is that disgusting thing?”

  “Not something we have to worry about,” replied Taylor.

  He knew it must have been Zaya. It was both comforting and worrying to know that the rebel Prince led from the front as he did. Just as before they followed the trail of bodies. Zaya was clearly sweeping through the ship like a hurricane, and there seemed no stopping him. Gunfire rang out at the back of the column, and Taylor turned back to for a view of what was happening, but all he could see were the flash of muzzles lighting up the roof above his Company.