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

by Nick S. Thomas

  “I have no fight with you, but neither will I sit this one out. I want her as badly as you do,” declared Taylor.

  Zaya grunted as if not particularly happy about that, but he was too centred on ending her life to really care what Taylor did or didn’t do, so long as he presented no threat. She looked to Taylor as if to try and bargain, to turn him one last time, but she could tell with a quick glance at his face that there wasn’t a chance in hell.

  “You are dying here today, and I don’t care by whose hand. Your reign of terror is over!” Taylor shouted.

  With that, he lifted the mace and charged at her. He had to move things along quickly. He didn’t want to risk angering Zaya, but neither could he explain the need to expedite the whole thing. He swung the mace with all his might. She lifted her sword with one hand to defend, nursing her wound with the other. The power and weight of the mace knocked her sword down, and he swung it about and struck again. The blow hit her arm where she tried to parry, and it was knocked aside. A third blow smashed into her head, and she stumbled back, falling over the body of one of her soldiers.

  She looked a mess. The mace had opened up a vicious cut over her eye and onto her skull. She was fumbling about on the floor, trying to pick her sword back up and get to her feet. It was a little sad to see her reduced to such a pathetic mess. Zaya had no compassion or empathy at all, and Taylor didn’t blame him for that. In fact, he felt no differently. Taylor had rarely hated anyone so much as he hated her. He spoke of hate for the enemy, but in time had learnt that it was just a necessity in combat to keep spirits up and the right motivation. He didn’t hate many of his enemies anymore.

  Bolormaa was an exception to the rule. Everything she did was out of a sick and twisted malice. Life was like a game to her, and she had taken a great deal from him. He could never get any of it back, but he would at least content himself in making her suffer for what she had done. That made him judge, jury, and executioner, and it was a role in this case, that he was more than happy to undertake.

  “You think you can destroy me?” she asked, mocking both of them.

  “You bleed like any of us. You have hidden behind these lies for long enough. I know we can kill you, and soon enough, so will you. And if there is any maker, a real god out there, I can fucking guarantee that you are going to the deepest darkest hell that anyone could face, and you’ll rightly deserve it. I only wish that such a place exists, so you can be made to suffer more than in these few precious moments that we have.”

  “If it does, then you will join me there!”

  “No, I am no saint, but neither am I the foul creature you have been for your entire life. If there truly is a god, it is a sick joke to have made you. As if he, or even she, wants nothing more than to test us, just to be a bastard.”

  “Then you do see, that gods are not always kind.”

  “I don’t see it at all. Your excuses are wearing thin, and so is your time in this life.”

  He went forward to strike, but Zaya soared forward instead to take his turn. The flowing cloak that had been resting on his shoulders was cast off. It didn’t even hit the ground before he had closed the distance with his mother. He hacked down with a brutal strike that somehow she managed to parry, but he followed it with another on the exact opposite line.

  The cut burrowed deep into her arm, and she shrieked in agony as the sword fell from her grasp. Zaya did not follow up on his strike. He wanted to enjoy what little time he had to make her suffer, and who could blame him after the exile he had lived in.

  Bolormaa reached down with her other hand for the sword, using her wounded arm to nurse the wound at her stomach, but the blood was now flowing equally from the new injury as the one Taylor had inflicted. He couldn’t understand how she was still standing, but they knew nothing about her physiology at all.

  “What will it take to kill this bitch?”

  “A lot,” replied Zaya.

  Taylor smiled, realising he had said it out loud. But he didn’t care, didn’t care how he might be perceived on camera, or what anyone thought of him. He was going to enjoy the suffering he was about to inflict, and he didn’t care who knew it.

  * * *

  “He’s done it. I don’t believe it,” said Jones.

  Sommer was whistling and crying out with excitement as they watched Taylor and Zaya cut and strike at her. She parried off a few blows, but plenty were getting through. She was being taken apart bit by bit, and with every strike, Sommer clapped and cheered. That was when Rogers began to think about how many places this exact scene would be repeated, cheering over the torture and mutilation of a living creature. No matter how awful she was, it left a foul taste in his mouth. He didn’t think any less of Taylor for going at her, but he did feel uncomfortable seeing the look of excitement and enjoyment on his face. He wanted to say something, but he knew he could not. Nobody would understand.

  Zaya pushed up close and used the leverage of his long grip to pull and push vicious draw cuts across Bolormaa’s body. Everyone could see that he could deliver a fatal blow whenever he wanted, but he was taking her apart like a surgeon. Taylor leapt in to get his slice of the action and smashed his mace onto her head. The shock was immense, and her shoulders seemed to slump from the impact. She staggered back to the doorway where she had first entered with an arrogant swagger. She looked ready to drop dead where she was standing, and both of them hesitated to wait and see.

  Both of them were tricked. She suddenly launched her sword with a throw at Zaya, and it caught him unawares. The blade embedded in his left shoulder joint, and he let out a shriek in agony. Taylor couldn’t believe what he was seeing. A moment ago it seemed like she was finished, and now she had mustered energy neither of them could have imagined she had left. He looked back to where she was standing.

  She was gone.

  Zaya was groaning in pain as he took hold of the sword, pulling it from his body. The broad edge had caused a deep and wide wound, and blood gushed out as he pulled it free. His body slumped as he weakened.

  “Go!” he roared.

  Taylor didn’t hesitate for a moment longer. He rushed on out of the arena. He looked back for just a second. Zaya was following, but he looked weak on his feet as he swayed from side to side. He turned back to the task at hand, remembering just what he was chasing after. For a while there he had come to think that it was all a forgone conclusion, and that they were just taking their time, having a little fun before they ended her life. She had shown remarkable vitality despite her injuries, and she could be waiting around any corner to ambush him.

  She wasn’t armed, but he knew she could be every bit as lethal with her own hands as with a weapon, and now he was regretting taking the mace. He’d thought to use it to finish her off, but its heft seemed liked a disadvantage now. He wished he still had his Assegai to hand, but then he wished a great many things had turned out differently.

  “Come on, Mitch, think, stop being an idiot,” he muttered to himself as he followed the trail of blood. It was an easy path to follow, “What the hell are you up to Bolo? Where the hell are you going?”

  He couldn’t figure it out. She had got halfway back to the docking bay she’d arrived in before turning away. He wondered if she had suspected a trap, and yet he shook his head. He wished he had the resources to have set such a trap, but the extent of their plans had now been reached.

  He heard a crash behind him. Zaya ploughed into a stack of ammunition boxes, hitting a bulkhead before finally righting himself. The wound was severe, and he was still trailing blood. Taylor remembered how quickly and easily they healed, and he began to wonder if Bolormaa was the same. It was a terrifying prospect, that it could all be for nothing if they could not track her down and end it now. He stopped to listen for any movement, but with all of Zaya’s thrashing around there was no hope.

  “Bolormaa! Bolormaa! Come out and fight me you cowardly bitch!” he called out.

  He hoped to appeal to her shallow character, but she see
med intent on survival right now.

  “Go on. Don’t let her escape,” insisted Zaya.

  He felt a little bad for the former Prince. He had come close to calling him a friend, but had considered him a traitor and an enemy for so long, and he had been no such thing. He had been forced to submit to her will, just like Alita had been. The only difference was that his mind was strong enough to keep fighting her. He thought back to Alita once again. He wished he hadn’t, as it always made him sad. He didn’t need that right now, but then he kept telling himself.

  Get Bolormaa, and we’ll get Alita back. Kill that bitch, and it’s over.

  He knew it wasn’t that simple, but he had to cling onto some hope. Zaya looked weak, and he had to carry on alone. His suit was beeping in his ear more frequently now, and he would soon to be in trouble. He had very little time left.

  * * *

  “Where are you going?” Rogers asked Jones as he leapt to his feet once more.

  “Look, I get the plan. But this plan has gone way off reservation. It’s not even on camera anymore. This has turned into something else, and I won’t sit by and do nothing!”

  Turan looked to Rogers for confirmation, knowing he was second-in-command to the whole operation they had been involved in.

  “Come on, the situation has changed. Bolormaa is down not out, and if we don’t corner her fast, she may yet find a way out. We cannot let that happen.”

  Rogers didn’t have to think about it for long before nodding in agreement.

  “Go, go on!’ Sommer shouted.

  She handed Rogers her rifle and gestured for them to go. Turan ripped the doors open, and the three of them ran through them. The blood and bodies they confronted were a horrific sight and looked far worse in person than it had done on film. They reached the wounded Prince who looked barely alive, but still just about breathing. Turan stopped. He fired a single shot into its head and ended it for good before running on.

  It wasn’t long before they reached the trail of blood, and they could see Taylor’s footprint in one of the pools.

  “How much blood has she got in her?” Jones asked in amazement.

  “I wish I could tell you,” replied Rogers.

  He led the way forward even though he wasn’t even wearing any kind of armour. The other two were in exoskeleton suits and full gear. Rogers didn’t care. He had no fear. What was left had been conquered when he had faced the enemy in that arena.

  * * *

  “Come on, Bolo, there is nowhere to run. This is over! You are finished!”

  Taylor heard a little movement up ahead and slowed to approach with caution. The blood trail led on, and he kept his sight firmly fixed on it, but as he reached an open doorway, he caught a glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye. He instantly regretted his tunnel vision, but there was no time to fret over it. Bolormaa’s fist struck him on the side of his face. He was knocked off balance and tumbled into the wall of the corridor on the far side.

  She was on him in no time. She reached for his neck to get a clinch, but he smashed the mace down onto her foot, and that caused her one shoulder to drop down as the pain soared through her body. Zaya was on the scene a second later and slashed across her faced with his sword. She turned to face him, but he cut again at her torso, much the same way she had cut at Taylor. The blade cut deeply, and he followed it with another to her flank as she lifted her hands to protect herself.

  The blade embedded in her flank with a brutal cut, but she lashed out with a punch to his inner shoulder where she had thrown the blade. He squirmed with pain and staggered back. Bolormaa pulled the blade from her side and cut at Taylor with it. He parried with the shaft of the mace and then yanked forward so that the head caught the sword she had taken from Zaya. It pulled it from her hands. She didn’t wait around to be hit and was gone in no time.

  Taylor picked up the bloody blade and passed it to Zaya. He ran after her. They were close to finishing her now, and he couldn’t believe she was still standing. All he kept thinking was if he could just get one more good blow against her head, he could end it all. But as he took a bend up ahead, he noticed her standing still in the middle of an airlock. At first he didn’t understand what she was doing. She was trapped. He heard footsteps at his back and turned cautiously to face whatever threat was coming. Jones and Rogers were approaching. Turan was close behind, helping Zaya to keep up.

  All but Turan were a bloody mess, but they would not stop going after the enemy queen. They stopped as a group, ten metres short of her. There was a pool of her own blood at her feet. No one could understand how she was even still alive, except for Zaya. He didn’t look surprised at all, more than anything he looked lost.

  “It’s over, Bolo.”

  “And what, you are going to bring me in peacefully?” she snarled.

  “No, I am going to butcher you where you stand,” replied Taylor without any hint of sympathy.

  He looked to Rogers as if expecting some compassionate intervention.

  “Don’t look at me. I believe in forgiveness, but I also believe in punishing those who deserve it.”

  Taylor was relieved. He had half expected some nonsense from Rogers in the final moment.

  “You are finished. It’s over!”

  “It will never be over, Colonel,” she replied sternly.

  She reached across to a big red button. It was the air lock release, and she smashed it with her bloody hand. A thick translucent door sealed before her and the others as a twenty-second countdown rang out.

  “What the hell is she doing?” Jones asked.

  Nobody had a clue, but Taylor felt their plan was falling apart.

  “Shut it down. Shut it down!”

  Rogers was hitting keys frantically on the pad beside the door, but ten seconds had passed, and still the countdown rang out.

  “No!” Taylor howled.

  The airlock opened, and the last thing they saw on Bolormaa’s face was her wicked smile before she was blown out into space. They were powerless to do anything but watch. Ten seconds went by as they saw her drift out into space, and nobody said a word. Taylor was praying that she would die out there. Jones broke the silence.

  “How long can she survive out there?”

  Taylor wanted to hope it wasn’t long, but she seemed more resilient to death than any creature he had ever known. He tapped his comms unit to reach out to Vega, but he couldn’t get through.

  “What the hell is going on?”

  “The live feed, it broadcast to everywhere on Earth and the outer colonies of the Solar System, the comms system is at its limit,” said Rogers.

  Taylor hoped they had done enough, but even as he thought, they saw the flash of engines, and a small craft pulled up to Bolormaa’s body. In an instant it was gone again with her on board. Taylor smashed his fist into the airlock door with everything he had. The suit still had a little power left, and the glass fractured, cracks rippling out to the edges. An emergency beacon lit up, and a safety door slid across behind it, blocking their view.

  Taylor slumped down against the doorway and began to weep. He didn’t know what else to do.

  “We won. We beat her,” said Jones.

  But Taylor was already shaking his head.

  “We beat her, but we didn’t win. We didn’t win anything.”

  CHAPTER 13

  Taylor watched as fireworks lit up the screens all over popular locations on Earth. Any other time it would be a joy to see. He could see news feeds on other screens where anchors talked about the defeat of Bolormaa.

  “You should be out there to see it. You are a hero,” insisted Jones.

  He was standing in a tiny control room, watching a few dozen screens of what was going on around the world.

  “You think we won, you think we defeated her?”

  “For now, sure. You’re damn right I do. Her fleet is all but smashed. Her supply lines to her forces still fighting here are diminished. The supply line is everything to keeping front li
ne troops in the fight. A few months and we’ll have them all but destroyed.”

  Taylor smiled.

  “What?” Jones asked. He was suspicious.

  “I love your optimism.”

  “Well, somebody has to have some. Don’t we deserve a little celebration? We kicked arse, and you know it. Bolormaa was running like a scared little schoolgirl.”

  “That was our chance, you know. That was our chance, and I blew it.”

  “You did no such thing.”

  “Yes…yes I did. I got caught up in my personal feelings. I wanted her to suffer, and I wanted her to know the damage she had caused. I had the chance to end her life for good and end all this madness.”

  Jones sighed as he thought about the prospect. He would have rejoiced in her death, too, and yet he was trying to find some way to console Taylor.

  “What is done is done. She won’t be coming back anytime soon. You saw the damage she had, the injuries and wounds. I’d be surprised if she even survives, and what is she going to throw at us? She’s got nothing left!”

  Taylor wasn’t convinced, but he was trying to not drag down the vibe of his friends who were celebrating as if the war was over.

  “Don’t you think you deserve a little time to enjoy yourself?”

  Taylor smiled. “That’s a fact.”

  “Then come on. Let’s get out there, get a few beers in, and rejoice the fact that we won a massive victory here. I know it didn’t go the way you wanted, but let’s at least celebrate the good.”

  “Which is?”

  “Bolormaa is screwed. She got the crap kicked out of her. I doubt she will be able to survive it, and even if she does, the whole universe got to see her humiliated. People are scared of her because she tells them she is a god, and you proved she wasn’t. It was a remarkable thing you and Rogers pulled off. A classic switcharoo, who’d have thought?”