Battle Earth 1 be-1

by Nick S. Thomas

  As the team watched open mouthed, the radio cut in and Taylor was suddenly brought back to reality. He was being called back to base, while his men were ordered to continue a sweep of the area for the next two hours before returning to base.

  “What do you think they want you for, Major?” Silva asked.

  “Probably to ask me yet more questions that I cannot answer. Price, Kwori, you’re with me. The rest of you, I know there doesn’t appear to be an immediate threat, but we don’t yet truly understand what we are dealing with. From now on you act as if under wartime conditions, be very vigilant!”

  He jumped into the driver’s seat as the other two men climbed aboard. He knew that he could no longer go anywhere alone. Not only could he not risk it as a company commander, but he was more than a little fearful of what could happen if he did. His experience on the Moon had shown that they needed substantial firepower to take down one of the heavily armoured enemy, but at least three guns were better than one.

  Major Taylor found himself in yet another meeting of high-ranking officers. However, this time was different. They had some information to discuss, rather than just grilling him about the same matters again and again. The General had a map of the world up on the large screen at the end of the briefing table.

  “It appears that UFO1 has come to a halt in the mid Atlantic. Unconfirmed reports are coming in that it has landed on the surface of the ocean. Now, let’s just consider what this means. To call this a ship is a joke. Aerial shots have shown that since stopping, the vessel is expanding outwards. They have just created an eighth continent on our planet,” said White.

  “Has anyone made any attempt at contact?” asked General Smith.

  “Communications in every way have been sent to the vessel. Every government has ordered its military to show no signs of hostility. So far we have heard no reports of any successful contact.”

  “General, this is a prelim to invasion, it’s just a larger scale version of what we saw on the Moon,” said Taylor.

  “I am well aware of that, Major. But at his stage military action is not our decision to make. We follow the chain of command just as you do.”

  “Sir, the more time we give them to get established, the harder a time we are gonna have at holding them back. We should be preparing for full-scale war. We need to be equipping our troops with heavier guns and getting air strikes organised, nuclear if necessary!”

  “Major! That’s enough. I do not disagree with your assessment, but until we are given orders to do so, we will maintain our current alert level and be ready to respond to whatever orders are received.”

  A Lieutenant walked into the room and quickly went up to the General, passing him a datapad. The General studied it then looked up.

  “The USS Doyle is just a few miles out from the landing zone of UFO1 and is attempting to make contact as we speak. We have video feeds from the deck.”

  The General pressed a few buttons and the map in front of him turned to a live feed from the bridge of the frigate. They could not contact the crew as they were in direct communication with the Pentagon, but they could see everything that the Navy crew could see. They gasped at the sheer vastness of what was there. The enemy vessel dominated the view ahead of them. Several parts of the ship were moving and expanding. It held still in the water like a landmass. The tall metal-like superstructure was a hundred metres above the surface. To those watching, it appeared as if a huge iron wall had just divided the Atlantic in half.

  The entire room watched in awe and fear. For five whole minutes they watched the muted feed, seeing nothing more than the vast artificial island and occasionally the crew of the Doyle shuffling about.

  “What the hell is that?” asked General White.

  The officers squinted to look at small objects above UFO1.

  “Fighter craft, the Doyle needs to engage its air defences immediately!” shouted Taylor.

  “We cannot risk war!” Smith shouted.

  “We are already at war, General!”

  They turned back to the monitor just in time to see the two craft approaching and then light erupt from them. Seconds later the video feed cut off. They had no means to contact the Doyle to check its status, but they already knew what the answer would be. General White turned back to the table of officers with a grim expression on his face.

  “It has begun, the Battle for Earth.”

  Chapter 5

  Commander Kelly stepped back through the bunker doors where Colonel Visser was still hiding with his few guards. They’d managed to regain contact with some of the major buildings on the Moon colony through hard lines and were now able to watch the destruction on the security feeds. Kelly’s head was cut and bleeding and sweat dripped from his face.

  “Colonel! What the hell are you doing?” he shouted.

  “The, the, people, we’re lost!”

  “Get your fucking head on your shoulders! I will not let these alien bastards take our homes without a fight!”

  “Commander, we are finished here!”

  Kelly slapped the UEN Colonel with the backhand of his glove, the hard platting striking his cheek and cutting the flesh.

  “You were stationed here for a reason, Colonel! We are soldiers, now act like one!”

  The Colonel looked up at the video screens. The great metal clad monsters still stomped through the colony with their energy weapons blazing. The soldiers of the UEN and MDF were putting up a valiant fight but were being driven back in most sectors.

  “What can we do? What can we do against such monsters?” cried Visser.

  “We do whatever we have to do, Colonel! We are fighting for our very homes and lives!”

  “I am sorry, Commander, but I have no choice but to surrender. I will not sit by and watch our people butchered. They are killing civilians and soldiers alike.”

  “You do whatever you have to do, Colonel, but my men will never lay down our arms!”

  He stormed out of the room with eight of the MDF soldiers at his side. The cowardice of the UEN Colonel almost brought him to tears.

  “Get a message out to all forces, amass around this building, we make our stand here!”

  Kelly turned back, he had utter disdain for the Colonel and he would not let him surrender from the Prime Minister’s own bunker. Let alone the fact that it was the strongest defensive location they had to hand. He rushed back into the room where Visser sat with his head in his hands. The Commander shook the man by his shoulders until he looked up at him.

  “Colonel Visser, I am assuming command of all UEN forces on the colony, as you are unfit to command. You may surrender to the enemy, but you will do it alone, and not from this building. Now get out of my sight!”

  “Hey, Charlie, what’s the situation there?” asked Taylor.

  The Major had just made contact with the British officer via live video feed. The Captain was in full armour with his rifle slung over his body.

  “It’s chaos here, I’m at the base in Rennes, France. We have lost contact with two EUA ships in the Atlantic. Everyone here is preparing for war, but officially we are still just on a high alert level, how is it there?”

  “Same shit here. Everybody knows we’re in for a fight but the bloody politicians are still pussy footing about. Keep in touch, Captain, we’re going to need everything we’ve got over the coming days and weeks.”

  “Will do, good luck, Major.”

  The intercom cut off and Captain Jones turned and quickly strolled out of the field office into the open air of the Rennes base. The area was electric, alive like it had never been before. Armoured vehicles rolled around and aircraft flew overhead. The loudspeakers rang out and the huge viewing screens beside them fired into life. Brigadier Dupont addressed the base, something that had never happened before during his posting to Rennes.

  “Attention all base personnel. As of 1500 hours, the unidentified vessel has landed in the Atlantic and appears to have expanded and established itself into a self-contained cont
inent. We have lost contact with a number of naval vessels and there are reports of them being destroyed. Our scanners are at present showing that smaller vessels are approaching the French and Spanish coast lines in substantial numbers, with further airborne vehicles incoming.”

  The Brigadier took a deep breath as he sighed in disbelief about what he was having to read.

  “At this stage, we must assume that we are in a state of war. You will shortly be receiving your orders through the chain of command. Two divisions from Rennes are being dispatched to the coast in preparation of any necessary defence. For those men and women who are being sent to defend our shores, know that you have the support of the world behind you. Good luck to you all, and Godspeed!”

  The video feeds cut out and announcements rang out across the base for all personnel to report immediately to their base commanders and designated rally points. Lieutenant Green and Corporal Hughes stepped up beside Jones as he made his way to his battalion formation area.

  “Think we’ll be heading to the front line, Sir?” asked Hughes.

  “Almost certainly, there are only three full divisions combat ready on the base and they’ll want to keep one of the French divisions here for the defence of the city.”

  “You think they’re concerned that we wouldn’t be able to hold them back?”

  “Yes, Green. We’re facing an unknown enemy with unknown capabilities. They’d be fools to send everything to the front line, a system of layered defence has proven advantageous on countless occasions during invasion.”

  Minutes later Jones arrived at the Battalion Divisional officers’ meeting while the rest of the men assembled on the parade grounds, eagerly awaiting news of who would be sent to face this new threat.

  “Gentlemen, time is of the essence here, so I will be brief. Your division, along with the 2 ^ nd Armoured French Division, is being dispatched immediately to the west coast. As of this time we have absolutely no idea of the enemy strength or intentions. The two divisions will be tasked with the defence of the coast from Brest to Nantes. It’s a lot of ground to cover, but the reality is we are against the clock here. Enemy forces will be at the coastline in a matter of hours. Any questions you have will have to be answered via communication en route. That’ll be all, gentlemen, good luck,” said Dupont.

  The officers all turned and rushed out of the room. They were beginning to understand the severity of the situation. They knew the military capability of units in the area, and knew that it could be days before further units could be deployed in any capacity.

  Reaching his platoon, the men were already fully formed up beside their vehicles. As an infantry unit in peacetime deployment they were only equipped with unarmoured vehicles, but that would at least allow them to cover ground quickly. He surveyed his men, they carried no field equipment, only ammunition and body armour. A hasty deployment would get them in action quickly, but they’d need re-supplying fast.

  “Mount up!” Jones ordered.

  The parachute regiment platoon consisted of three sections of ten men, as well as a four-man command section, which included Lieutenant Green, himself and his batman, Private Saunders. The platoon loaded up into two open top trucks while the command section took the Captain’s personal vehicle, a Rapid Deployment Vehicle (RDV). In the vein of the WW2 Jeep, the RDV was a lightweight, open top all terrain vehicle. It was capable of carrying four personnel and had a passenger mounted BRUN light machinegun.

  It was a hundred kilometres to the coastline and travelling in convoy their speed would be reduced. Typically their battalion would be deployed using aircraft, which would have sped up their deployment. But all aircraft in Rennes were being used to transport the armoured divisions’ vehicles, or to collect and deploy troops to the border of the city.

  Getting to the coastline was not at all a concern for Jones. It would be a ninety-minute drive to reach the very start of the positions they had to defend. What concerned him more was that without a good supply of aircraft they’d have no fast way back. He’d heard from Major Taylor about the combat ability of the enemy they faced, and it was more than eye opening. He was only thankful that they could fight on home soil back on Earth.

  The convoy was on the outskirts of Brest. Captain Jones had been briefed, but being only a platoon leader he knew that he’d only been given half the story. His communication with Major Taylor had put him in a better stead than most of the units, but he still felt more than just uneasy.

  “Hey, Sir, why aren’t the population evacuating?” asked Saunders.

  The officer’s batman was driving the RDV and Jones sat in the commander’s seat at the machine gun.

  “At this stage we simply do not know what to expect, Private. Evacuating a major city would create chaos and need immense resources. More importantly, from our perspective the roads would be clogged as panic rapidly spread. Right now the priority is that we get troops at the coast as a barrier to whatever threat exists, if any.”

  “So we just leave the people here and hope they’ll be ok?”

  The Captain sighed as he looked out across the old city and imagined the huge innocent civilian population that inhabited it. He didn’t like it either, but he had his orders.

  “Think of it this way. Private. If whatever is coming up those beaches cannot be stopped by two divisions, then what good would such a late evacuation do?”

  The Private went silent. The very idea that so many thousands of the finest troops in the world could be cast aside was a chilling thought to dwell upon. The radio cut in and it ordered the parachute battalion to head for a beach south of the city. The 2 ^ nd Parachute Battalion was attached to a regular British infantry division.

  Jones looked at his Mappad, it showed the positions all the units had taken up. The two divisions we spread across a fifteen-kilometre line of the coast. Most of the armour was around the traditional old naval city, though some of the heavier equipment could not be airlifted and was still en route via road.

  Having no armour support was a daunting thought to the men of the parachute regiment. Jones knew how heavily armoured their enemy was and the fearful circumstances the airborne forces were now facing.

  They eventually rolled up at the desolate beach. It was a mix of stone and sand. It would be a pleasant place to spend time on a warm day, though many of the men were already familiar with it, having spent time there. The barren area provided little cover beyond small embankments and dunes.

  As the battalion took up its position across the beachhead they were struck by the intimidating sight of the enemy ships approaching. They could only make out a rough blurred shape of each as they used the same chameleon camouflage technology Taylor had described. However, the spray gave their position away. They were all thankful for radar and other sensory technology, otherwise the coast would have gone undefended.

  Captain Jones stood up on a grass embankment and held up his binoculars to his eyes. The enemy vessels could be seen as far as he could see either side of their position. The binoculars were having difficulty calculating the size of the near invisible craft. Six were heading for the area they were covering. Jones turned pack to his platoon, some were lying prone against the mounds, others standing open mouthed. All were watching the approaching forces.

  “Right, boys! No time to dig in, get the BRUNs ready and take up positions!”

  Within two minutes the entire platoon lay silently beyond the raised earth and dunes, looking over the bleak coastline. They were less than two hundred metres from the water, perfect range to lay down fire. The intercoms of each man in the unit cut in, Brigadier Dupont was addressing all men of both divisions as one.

  “This is Dupont. Anticipate a hostile enemy, but do not fire unless fired upon. Remember, if it comes to it, they are weaker at their joints and face. Good luck to you all!”

  Jones knew that the Brigadier would be surveying the situation from long distance, likely still in the Rennes base, though he didn’t envy him. The Captain had signed up for
the kind of adventure and wars that he’d read about and witnessed on the news as a child, not the uncertainty of an advanced alien race. The unknown was scarier to the men than any army in the world.

  “You heard the Brigadier, not a single shot unless we are fired upon!” shouted Jones.

  He stared at the mysterious and imposing craft. They were travelling at a vast speed across the water. He wondered for a moment at their intentions. With no communication, it appeared odd to him that they would simply attack. As far as he was aware, no human had shown any aggression towards whoever they were. As they were just a few hundred metres from the shoreline the vehicles slowed and their cloaking technology came off.

  They appeared crude in design, with harsh lines. Earth ships had long been designed to be incredibly efficient, whether they travelled by air or water. These craft appeared to use immense power with little finesse. The skins were of a raw metal-like fabric, and they were almost twice the size of a main battle tank. Jones shot a glance around at his men.

  “Have we got the ARMAL launchers with us?”

  “Yes, Sir, but for what?” Hughes asked.

  “Just get them ready!”

  They had three of the anti-armour launchers in their platoon, one for each section. The devices folded up onto the backs of the men carrying them. At ranges of up to a hundred metres they were capable of taking out light to medium armoured vehicles, and even something heavier at close range if it hit the sweet spot.

  The time for preparation was over. The platoon watched in horror as the vehicles slid up onto the beaches, but they didn’t stop. Tracks on either side running the length and outline of the vehicles began to spin, pulling the huge craft onto the beach. The giant metal monsters resembled enlarged versions of WW1 tanks, which they had only ever seen in movies and museums.

  “Jesus Christ!” shouted Saunders.

  “Keep it down!”

  The tracked monsters were crawling up the beach at less than ten kilometres an hour. Jones hoped that was all they were capable of, but he knew that they would not have such luck. Hatches at the rear of the vehicles struck the beach as they continued, and then they saw them, just as Taylor’s report had said. The massive creatures stepped out as the tanks continued forward.