Battle Beyond Earth - Box Set (Books 6-9)

by Nick S. Thomas

  Taylor’s face turned stone cold and stern.

  “It will be whatever I say it is. Don’t ever forget who runs this outfit. Now both of you are damn fine officers, but I am doing what is right for the Regiment, not for the individual. This isn’t optional, do you get me?”

  “Yes,” replied Turan.

  He seemed to swallow it a little more easily now that Taylor had given him the order. Taylor took another spoon from his bowl and swallowed it whole, as he didn’t want to taste it anymore.

  “You know after all this time I would have thought food processors would have improved a little.”

  He took one more mouthful and could do no more. The others didn’t seem to be so bothered, and that made him smile.

  “All these years of crap and you have learned to like it. Well, today we go back to Earth, and I don’t care if there is a war on, we are finding something tasty before the week is through.”

  CHAPTER 8

  “Back in action!” Taylor shouted.

  The platoon began to clap as Dart walked amongst two lines they had formed up leading to the ramp of the Krys vessel which they had now made their own. It was a bizarre and surreal experience to see Krys soldiers displaying such human emotion and action. He walked a little awkwardly, due to the artificial limbs, but looked as strong as ever. He stopped when he finally reached Taylor who was last in the line up.

  “You know I thought it was all over out there. Thank you, Sir.”

  “No problem, you’ve saved our lives more times than I care to count.”

  “You know, losing my legs seemed the most awful thing I could imagine, but in truth, it isn’t. Losing my wings would be the worst, and because of you, I am both back on my feet and back in the cockpit. I can’t thank you enough.”

  “You can thank me by keeping on doing what you do.”

  “Then back to Earth it is. I have to say we have flown in better style before, but she’s a tough bird.”

  Taylor nodded in agreement as he reached forward and pulled off a sheet that covered part of the fuselage. It revealed a painted mascot. It was a rather crude human skeleton riding a dart as though it were a missile. The Lieutenant laughed.

  “It’s not in good taste, but I like it.”

  “I knew you would.”

  He stepped on board without another word to begin pre-flight checks as the rest awaited their orders from Taylor.

  “Right now the rest of our Regiment fights down there. They fight for a world that is rightfully ours. Not just human, but Krys also. The Krys have lived amongst humans for hundreds of years. To you it is a paradise, and it is no less to us, and we will never let anyone take it from us. We went looking for Jones and Hariz. I am sorry for that. I have never been able to ignore my emotions. I care for those who serve with me more than anything else in life. You are my family. All of you are. But the rest of our family fights down there where the real fight is going on. It’s time we got back to what is most important. Earth will always be free because there are people like us willing to fight for it, and she is worth fighting for. So load up, and let’s get back in this war!”

  He rushed aboard and took up his seat behind Dart as the rest of them clambered aboard. Turan sat down opposite him.

  “You know that beside the Krys who are native to this world now, you are all that will be left from your homelands, are you okay with that? Are the rest of them okay with that?”

  Turan nodded without hesitation.

  “We all know what we came here to do, and you have our loyalty until the very end.”

  “Hopefully that won’t be necessary.”

  “The price of serving with you Colonel is often high. Everyone knows that, and it is a price that we are willing to pay.”

  “Because Jafar told you to.”

  “Initially, yes. I did not accept you could be the man that Lord Jafar believed you were, but I was a fool to doubt him.”

  “Not a fool. It takes a lot to have faith in someone you have never known. I trust Jafar with my life because of the history we have together. I trusted you no more than you did me when you first arrived. And yet here we are. We have certainly been through some things together.”

  “It has been fun.”

  Taylor recoiled in surprise.

  “Fun?” he asked.

  “I grew up on the great stories of Lord Jafar and the battles he fought. I always wanted to be like him, and because of you, I have finally been able to get a little of what makes Lord Jafar great.”

  “You certainly have.”

  “You know this thing is a heap of junk, right?” Dart said as they headed towards Earth.

  “I thought you said this was an advanced craft?” Taylor asked Turan.

  Dart went on before he could answer.

  “Advanced?” he laughed, “Compared to what? The junk the Krys used to fly before it?”

  “This vessel may be slower and less agile than you are used to, Lieutenant, but it more than makes up for that in armour and firepower,” replied Turan.

  “Yeah? We’ll see.”

  “Taylor, what is it that you think we can achieve down here?”

  Taylor turned to his friend to see that he had largely been forgotten about in the last day. Babacan seemed to fill an odd position within the Regiment. He held no officer rank, but he escorted Taylor everywhere.

  “You don’t approve?”

  “The Tamir? Have you forgotten that we need that weapon?”

  Taylor groaned.

  “I have not forgotten. I just don’t know what we can do about that right now. The last lead we followed nearly cost us all our lives. If we had the support of the Alliance, then maybe we could.”

  “That has never stopped you before.”

  “No, but maybe this time they are right. Earth is at risk of falling, and I cannot let that happen.”

  “And when you face Bolormaa next time, what will you do? What will you fight her with?”

  “I guess I’ll deal with that problem when it crops up, but for now we have bigger problems to deal with.”

  The view ahead lit up as they began to break through the atmosphere at massive speed. They were soon through it and into thick cloud. It was a painful reminder of how they crashed the last time, and Dart sensed it more than any of them.

  “Don’t worry. We’ve got plenty of room to play with and open skies ahead.”

  They passed through the last of the cloud, and as it opened up, he saw a large Krys vessel right in front of them.

  “Oh, shit!” he yelled.

  He banked as quickly as he could, but at the speed they were going, there wasn’t much time to adjust. They struck a wing of the enemy vessel and punched through it, coming out the other side as if they had met little resistance at all. Dart wrestled back the controls in seconds and looked as surprised as any of them.

  “What the hell was that doing there?”

  “Not every Krys vessel will show up on your scanners,” said Taylor, remembering some of the technology they had used in the first war. Dart hit a few keys and brought up a rear viewscreen. The enemy ship was breaking up as it descended towards the ground in a fiery ball. He couldn’t believe it. It was more than ten times the size of the craft he was flying.

  “Just like I told you,” added Turan.

  “I take it back. This girl is a monster,” he replied with a wicked grin on his face, “What is our destination?”

  “We’re rendezvousing with the rest of the Regiment. Last time we were here, they were northwest of New York. Pick up their responders and bring us in as close to their position as you can.”

  He keyed in a few commands. Taylor watched with interest. A number of human control boards had been retrofitted into the Krys cockpit so that it was at least close to what Dart was accustomed to flying.

  “I’ve got ‘em. They haven’t moved far, just a few klicks out from where we left them. There is one hell of a fight going on down there, on the ground and in the air.”

&n
bsp; “Yeah? Well, let’s see what this thing can do. Pass on our destination to Kaytun and the Guardians. We’re going in hot.”

  Dart did as ordered before arming the weapon systems.

  “All right, baby girl, let’s see what you’ve got.”

  They descended several more thousand metres when finally the enemy fighter-bombers came into view. They were being hunted by human fighters, but not in enough number to clear the way. Dart targeted the first enemy craft, took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger. Quad gun systems on either wing of their ship opened fire and surged towards the enemy craft. It vanished into a flash of light before breaking apart and falling from the sky.

  “Holy shit,” whispered Taylor.

  “Now that’s what I am talking about!” Dart yelled.

  He targeted the next and opened fire. Three more enemy craft were downed before he began to pull up and skim the surface towards their destination. A warning light flashed, and a view appeared of an enemy fighter on their tail. Dart hit another button. A turret system rose up from the fuselage and tracked the enemy fighter, riddling it with holes until it dropped out of the sky. It crashed into an office building and erupted into fire.

  “I take it all back. She is no piece of junk. She’s a fire breathing monster!” he shouted enthusiastically.

  A minute later, he reduced power and brought them to a rapid stop, hovering over an opening filled with rubble where a large tower block had once stood.

  “You have arrived at your destination. I hope you have enjoyed your journey with us. Please come again,” declared Dart.

  He was positively beaming with excitement at being back in the cockpit. Taylor didn’t get it. He hated flying. It was a necessary evil to get where he was going, but nothing was better than having his feet on firm ground. He stood up, hit the door release, and it slid open. Gunfire raged from below as other enemy craft strafed the ground. Anti-aircraft weaponry fired back at them. It was then that it struck him how bizarre his situation was. Here he was being delivered to Earth in a Krys vessel, and it hadn’t even occurred to anyone on the ground to shoot at it. He stopped at the door as he hesitated.

  “You know it’s not going to always be like this. When word spreads of what Cakir is doing, humans will once again fear the sight of a Krys vessel and your kind,” he said to Turan.

  “Not if Lord Jafar comes through for us, and he always does.”

  Taylor turned back to the open air and took a deep breath. It felt fantastic, despite the dust in the air and the burning electrical smell coming from a nearby fire. Even so, it was the smell of home. It was just what he needed. He leapt from the doorway and descended into the rubble of the building below. He hit the ground running. He didn’t need to check which way to go and just went after the sound of gunfire.

  He didn’t look back to see if the others were with him, knowing that they would be. He rushed into a small alleyway and burst out across an open road. It was littered with smashed armoured vehicles and the bodies of Morohtan warriors and their followers. Taylor didn’t even slow down and rushed across into the open. Gunfire was being traded between buildings from troops fighting across the street, and right in front of him were a dozen Amitads and their Morohtan leader. They were working around to flank the Alliance positions.

  Taylor didn’t slow down. He targeted the Morohtan officer and fired a burst of fire into its head, activating his shield as he ran. The creature was knocked down and hurt by the fire, but not killed outright. He was on top of its Amitad followers just a second later. He struck one with his shield and then fired at point blank range into the next. He spun around and smashed his muzzle into another, kicking a fourth in the stomach so hard that it keeled over in agony. He stamped down on its head so that it was crushed against the street. He was firing in every direction now as the rest of his platoon waded in with equal enthusiasm.

  The tallest of the Amitads carried a huge two-handed sabre and swung it towards Turan, but the Krys officer nimbly leapt forward and took hold of the hilt before the weapon could gain any momentum. Turan headbutted the creature crudely in the face, and it stumbled back, losing the hold on its weapon. Turan spun the blade around in two hands and cut down against the creature with an almighty blow.

  The blade parted the creature’s head, splitting all the way through its body until it was cleaved in two and separated in two halves to the street below. Sommer heaved at the sight of it, but Turan looked happy with his work. He picked up the blade and spun around, taking two Amitad heads off in one strike of the huge blade.

  Once again their part of the street was quiet, except for the Morohtan officer who was struggling to get back up. Taylor kicked it back down to the ground.

  “You know who I am, don’t you?”

  It didn’t need to say a word, clearly hating and fearing him all at the same time.

  “Don’t worry. You’ll meet your maker soon enough, but until that time, you belong to me.”

  He gestured towards Babacan to take the prisoner. He hauled the creature to its feet, drew out its sidearm, and threw it to the floor. He then bound its hands behind its back to auto restraints.

  “What do you want to do with it?” Babacan asked.

  “I haven’t decided yet.”

  Without another word, he went onwards into the building where they were held up. Gunfire rang out before any of the others could even get inside, but Sommer was next. She found three bodies, and Taylor stood over them reloading his rifle.

  “You can’t fight the whole war by yourself, you do know that right, Colonel?”

  She seemed to have genuine concern on her face.

  “These?” Taylor asked, “This is nothing. This is no time to be squeamish, Lieutenant. There will be a lot more blood spilled before this day is over. And a heap load more before this war is over. The trick is to make sure as little of that spilled blood is your own.”

  “I’ll try to remember that, Sir, but it’s not the killing that bothers me. It’s how much some people seem to enjoy it,” she said, looking to Turan as he stepped into the room with the blood soaked enemy blade in his hand.

  “War isn’t won by saints, Lieutenant. You spend enough time killing; you’ll start to like it. You might even make an art form of it like he does.”

  “I hope not, Sir.”

  “Do or die,” he replied.

  He primed his rifle and ran through the next door as if with no concern for his own safety at all. Once again gunfire rang out, and Sommer looked to Turan as if distraught by it all, but Turan just smiled back and charged on through the opening after Taylor. She had no choice but to follow. She got through into the next room to find it littered with bodies, and the two of them had already moved on to the next. They must have run ahead without even skipping a beat.

  Sommer hesitated for a moment, and in that time the rest of Turan’s platoon stormed through in support. Babacan brought up the rear as he pulled the Morohtan officer along.

  “Is he crazy, or is this just everyday and normal to him?” she asked.

  “Taylor? This is the way he was born. From what Lord Jafar tells me, he has always been the same. He is a machine made for war.”

  “That’s not very reassuring.”

  “You would rather be led by someone lesser?”

  “Maybe someone less inclined to jump head first into every suicidal situation that he sees.”

  “If they were all suicidal, would he not be dead by now?”

  She shrugged.

  “I just don’t get it. By all odds he should be dead and buried a long time ago. It’s like there is some great power in the universe watching over him.”

  “Jafar believes he is the Dusmus Kahraman. Maybe he is.”

  “Clearly, not all your people share that belief, do they?”

  “Does any large group of people ever agree completely on anything?”

  She shook her head as they heard the gunfire intensify.

  “Come on,” said Babacan.

&
nbsp; They rushed on after Taylor and the others. It was easy. All they had to do was follow the trail of blood and bodies.

  “It is an honour to follow Taylor, and you should learn to appreciate that.”

  Sommer looked a little put out but knew she was in no position to disagree. Babacan had fought beside Taylor longer than she had even been a part of the war.

  “I just want to know that if we make it out the other side of this, we still have our humanity.”

  “And you think the Colonel has lost his?”

  “Perhaps he has.”

  “You are wrong. He may enjoy his work, but he’d give it up for a chance to settle down in peace in a heartbeat.”

  “Yeah, right. I don’t think so.”

  “He has done it before. If peace was a possibility, he’d be on a beach somewhere, or in some remote cabin enjoying the rest of his days.”

  The room opened out into a large warehouse like building, and Taylor stood in the centre. He held a huge heavy machine gun in his hands, with the tripod it was fixed to still hanging beneath. He was blazing away in every direction, cutting down the enemy in their dozens. There was nowhere they could hide, and the heavy rounds punched through every wall and piece of machinery they took cover behind. Turan and the rest held back, not daring to get in the way.

  Taylor’s cry was just audible over the sound of the weapon, and he was in his element. The ammo box finally ran empty, and smoke rose from the red-hot barrel. He threw it aside and grunted in approval, as if he had gotten a heavy weight off his shoulders.

  “You still sure about that quiet life?” Sommer whispered.

  “Do not underestimate the Colonel. That has been the undoing of so many before either of us.”

  The bodies of several of the enemy fell over a walkover above and landed around Taylor. One was barely alive. Taylor didn’t even draw a weapon. He put his foot on the creature’s throat and compressed until its windpipe was crushed. Sommer couldn’t tell if he was putting it out of its misery, or if he was just enjoying another kill. But as he turned to look at them, she saw the fire in his eyes.

  “He is not himself, tell me you see that?” she asked Babacan.