CHAPTER 7
Eighteen hours later.
“Colonel Taylor to the bridge. I repeat, Colonel Taylor to the bridge.”
Taylor shot up out of bed. He checked his watch to be sure he hadn’t overslept, but there were hours to go until they were ready to depart. It had to be serious. He jumped into his armour and made a run for the bridge.
“What’s going on?” he asked as he stepped aboard.
“An enemy fleet has been reported at the Ares Colony.”
“Well, what are we waiting for?”
“We are not ready for a direct engagement. We agreed thirty-six hours.”
“Until we go hunting, sure, but this is on our doorstep.”
“She could also be baiting us into a trap.”
“Either way, we have agreed to pursue her wherever she rears her ugly head. Let’s move out.”
“You want to pursue this before we are at full strength?”
“How many ships have we got that are ready?”
“Thirty-four.”
“If we cannot achieve success with that many ships when it is in our own Solar System, then there is no hope. Make the jump, Admiral, and let’s get this party started.”
“After all you said about sticking together? About keeping the fleet together?”
“We won’t be far away. How many people are on Ares?”
“At present about thirty thousand, I believe, but maybe more with the refugees.”
“Then we are going. Anyone that can make the jump, let’s move!”
Santiago looked furious, although he had learnt not to question either Taylor or the Admiral. Vega begrudgingly opened a channel to the fleet.
“This is the Admiral speaking. This fleet has been assembled to root out Bolormaa and her followers wherever they are found. We have just received word that the Ares Colony is under attack. All vessels capable of jumping, and that are ready for combat, plot your coordinates. We jump in thirty seconds.”
Taylor nodded in appreciation.
“You sure about this now?”
“Sure that we need to help our people? Sure that we need to save as many of our race as we can? Yes, I am, Admiral.”
The countdown soon began. There was a look of fear on many of their faces. They all faced Bolormaa’s fleets now. They had lost a lot and knew what they were gambling.
“Jump in five, four, three, two, one…jump!”
In a flash, they were at the Ares Colony. The station lay in ruins. Debris littered the area. A Morohtan carrier was in orbit with waves of transport craft and fighters swarming out towards the surface. The carrier had a few support vessels, but nothing they could not handle.
“Rogers, take three platoons and head for the surface. Protect the people.”
“What about you?”
“We have a shortage of ships, don’t we? That carrier is mine.”
“You are going to board her?”
Though he quickly realised he shouldn’t have been surprised at all.
“What are we, pirates?”
“Today we are, Jones,” Taylor smiled. “Admiral. Engage the enemy fleet, suppress their fighters and support vessels. I want that carrier.”
“With what? One platoon?”
“And a few friends.” He looked to Razor who had been lurking in the background.
“I’m here to help, but that doesn’t include a suicidal run at that,” she protested.
“We’re here fight, not to look pretty, or are you too scared to try?”
She looked highly offended.
“That’s more like it,” Taylor said before she could get a word in.
“You can’t possibly expect to take that thing with a handful of troops.”
“I’ll think of something, Admiral. Just be sure to cover our approach.”
He rushed off the bridge with his friends chasing after him.
“I sure hope you’ve got a better plan than you’re letting on,” said Rogers.
“Sure. I’m working on something.”
“Like what?”
“We don’t have a lot of marines, Jones, but we can still back a punch, and we have her.” He gestured towards Razor.
“What can I do in all this?”
“I intend to make a run through the ship raising hell, as loudly as I can. You are going to infiltrate the bridge and open all hatches, vent the bastards to space. Once we’re somewhere safe, anyway.”
“All right, how do you expect me to get this done?”
“That’s for you to decide. We’ll create the opening for you.”
She didn’t look too impressed.
“You trying to get me killed?”
“The way things are going, were running out of options. So we do nothing and die, or do something, and maybe still die anyway.”
“That’s not much of an incentive,” said Rogers.
“It’s what it is,” Taylor said as they reached the docking bay, “You know what you have to do. Keep it simple, and save as many lives as you can. No need to risk any more than we have to.”
“You’re joking, right?”
“This has to be done whether we like it or not. Let’s move out.”
Razor was already aboard her tiny shuttle and departing for her ship.
“You think she can manage what you are asking?” Jones was watching her fly away.
“You kidding me? Haven’t you read the reports? That woman, she is a damn badass.”
“Agreed, but don’t you think you are asking too much?”
“Of all of us, not just her.”
“Then why do it?”
“Because we are it. We are all that stands between evil now. It doesn’t matter whether we are up to the task. It falls to us, and so we have to get it done.”
They were in the air in no time at all. There was a solemn tone amongst all aboard. Taylor had lifted their spirits by promising a united force, and yet once more they were heading into an abyss. A tiny force that could never hope to accomplish the task set before them. They knew Taylor could achieve the seemingly impossible, but they also knew it might cost their lives. Taylor was painfully aware of this himself. He'd lost far too many comrades lately. It had got so extreme that he'd not even had time to learn some of the replacements’ names before they died. That fact haunted him.
But then he realised that while he had made it his mission to remember all those that had died under his command, many of the names were already fading from his mind. He couldn't work out if it was because he had been fighting for so long, or simply because the list was so long. A depressing thought either way. All he could do was keep telling himself that it would be over soon. He had to keep going, he had to keep pushing. It would cost many more lives yet, but the alternative was far worse.
* * *
Rogers checked his weapon for the tenth time as they descended to the surface. Their ship rocked as an enemy fighter strafed them. Turan sat opposite them, looking as calm as could be. He'd never spent a huge amount of time with the Krys. They always came across as aloof to him. They had no plan at all, nothing besides engaging the enemy. He lifted his arm to look at his Mappad and tapped into the video feeds on the surface below. They drew close enough to pick up the signal, but it was still weak.
He could make out a number of Ares militia fighting in a large hallway. In another a dozen Morohtan warriors were cutting their way through some civilians bottlenecked at a doorway. It was a horrific sight. He brought up a view of the colony and the reports of enemy sightings. He tapped for each platoon and designated them an area before opening a comms channel.
"This is Captain Rogers. You have your areas. Enemy strength is increasing, but they aren't ready for what we are going to hit them with. You know what you have to do. There are docking facilities marked on your Mappads. That is where the colonists will be heading. Protect them with everything you have. Good luck and God speed."
He sat back and took a deep breath. It wasn't exactly the inspirational words o
f Taylor, but he wasn't capable of that, or at least he didn't think so. But then he’d never thought of himself as a combat leader, and here he was leading a company into combat after having vanquished more enemies than he could remember.
"You look like you enjoy this?" he asked Turan.
"Yes," he replied without hesitation.
"How can you enjoy it? Risking your life and all those you call friends?"
"This is life. If we cannot enjoy it, what it the point in living?"
"This is a hurdle to overcome so we can go on living."
"And what about the next hurdle, and the hundred after that? You will wake up disappointed tomorrow because you could not enjoy today."
Rogers shook his head. It made no sense to him. He'd have done anything to not have to fight. Not because he was a coward, but because he had no love or will to fight. He only fought out of necessity. But it did give a fascinating insight into what made the Krys such effective and determined fighters.
"And if you die here, and if we all die here today? Who will remember us? Who will carry our memory?"
"Carry our memory? If we are dead, we are gone. Whatever maker made us will know what we did."
Finally something Rogers understood and could relate to. He smiled and nodded along. That was exactly how he felt, and it was a relief to know that they held some common ground.
They touched down on a landing pad and quickly sealed their helmets. The ramp went down moments later, and they rushed out. Hundreds of civilians were running to ships along the landing deck. They were on the rooftop of a two-storey structure. A dozen enemy warriors were gunning down people left, right, and centre. This made his blood boil. A moment before he hadn't been prepared emotionally for what they were about to face, but now his instincts took over, fuelled by his hatred of the enemy.
Rogers didn’t even need to say a word. His team took aim and opened fire before he could get the words out. He felt the bitter hatred towards the enemy flow through him. He wasn't proud of it, but he was happy to let it drive him on, and was reminded why he was a soldier these days. He was still a religious man, but first and foremost, he was a fighter. That was what the universe had made of him, and who was he to argue with that?
Shots flew back and forth as the enemy engaged his platoon, but they were outnumbered and outgunned, a situation Taylor's unit rarely managed to find the enemy in. Turan was charging towards the enemy with a furious anger. A volley of fire had already gunned down most of the warriors, but a few remained. He was running at one and shot out its front legs, shield barging the creature with his full weight. The enemy soldier was thrown off the edge of the building and vanished from view. There was just one of the enemy left, and it took a burst from a dozen of the platoon. Its armour was punctured through by round after round until it too went off the edge.
Rogers stopped to check on the civilians, but they didn't need to be told. They were running for their lives. Dozens of dead were scattered across the deck on the route to the ships, but nobody was under any illusions, they had to be left. All that mattered were those that were still alive.
"Come on!" Turan roared.
Rogers snapped back to reality, rushing on with the platoon towards the hallway that led into the complex. It was a translucent shielded entrance to a shallow ramp. As soon as they passed through the shield, the enemy were before them yet again. Rogers lifted his visor and activated his shield.
"Run over them!"
He couldn't believe the words he was speaking. It was as if the spirit of Taylor had overtaken him. It caused him to smile as he took aim and opened fire. He never thought he could be like Taylor, and yet he was more and more every day. He imagined it was through experiences like this that forged Taylor into the champion he was, and that gave Rogers hope.
They advanced with their wall of shields and laid down a brutal barrage of fire. A few bullets still penetrated their defence, and one struck Rogers’ knee armour. It didn't penetrate, but his leg buckled, and a burst of fire came through the gap in their defence, hitting one of the platoon square on. It was a Krys warrior, and three of the shots penetrated, killing him instantly. Rogers staggered over to the side of the corridor to stabilize himself and take the weight off his leg. The fighting went on as he looked at the body of the man who had taken the bullet intended for him.
For a moment he felt guilty, but that soon passed. He had left his previous profession for good reason. He still believed in so much of what he always had, but not guilt. There was no room for that in a fighter’s life. Taylor had taught him that. He put some weight down, and it hurt, but he was starting to get feeling back.
"You okay, Captain?" asked one of the men.
Rogers didn't even know his name, and that is when he realised he was falling into the same trap as Taylor. He didn't want to lose someone else without knowing their name.
"What's your name?"
"PFC Denver, Sir."
The Private helped him support his weight for a moment until he could stand on his own.
"Can you walk, Sir?"
He nodded as he put more weight down on it. The feeling was coming back and the shock fading. The death of the Krys marine weighed on him more heavily than anything else.
"You ready to kill some of these assholes, Private?"
Denver grinned, and Rogers smiled back, once more realising he was sounding like Taylor.
"Then let's take this fight to them." He picked up his rifle and followed on after Turan who was ten metres ahead and leading the assault.
* * *
"This is crazy, you know that, right?"
Taylor smiled back. "Jones, you sound just like Charlie." He thought back to his old friend.
"Yeah, well, that's because I'm right, and I bet he was, too."
"Oh, yes, more often than not, and he sure liked to make me know it."
"You trust this Razor to get the job done? You're asking a lot of her."
"Damn right I do. She is a weapon. She doesn't see it, but she is, and even more valuable than any one of us in many ways. She may not be able to stand up to a fight with us toe to toe, but she'll sure find a way to win. She doesn't play by the rules, and she thinks outside the box. She's also as cunning as a fox."
Jones didn't get the reference, and that made Taylor smile. He felt old, but that was okay. Taylor looked out of a porthole and frowned.
"What is it?"
"The guns, they've stopped firing," he said suspiciously, trying to get a better look at the vast carrier they were approaching. It looked like a shark in the shape of its body and prow, but with vast engines at its aft, and launch bays running along much of its length like gills. And as a shark would, it looked like an apex predator. It was terrifying.
"You told Vega to stay away?" Jones sounded surprised.
"Yes, and he has. No damage, it hasn't returned fire. Not even an attempt to slow us down."
"That makes no sense at all. Are there any weapons on board?"
Taylor hadn't thought to look. He'd never seen a Morohtan vessel that did not have substantial firepower. And there it was, towers and banks of weapons. So much that he couldn't imagine they could ever get close unless whoever was in charge of the carrier wanted them to.
"They know we're coming. Damn it, they want us to come," he muttered.
"What?"
"Why else would they not even try?"
It was dawning on Jones now.
"Turn it around. Let's get the hell out of here."
"No."
"No? Are you crazy? There could be anything for us waiting down there!"
"Whatever it is, we have to deal with it, you know that."
"Do you know what you're saying? You are playing right into her hands."
"Maybe, or maybe she is all out of places to run and hide, and we are coming for her.”
Their ship passed through a docking bay and touched down. To their amazement they were still not taking any fire. The ramp went down, and they rushed out ready fo
r a battle on the landing deck, expecting to fight their way into the heart of the ship. But Taylor quickly drew to a halt, as they found nothing of the sort. He looked around in all directions; his rifle training and at the ready to fire at a moment’s notice, his finger resting on the trigger.
Taylor checked his pad. The oxygen levels were normal. He raised his visor to as he continued to look for the enemy.
“Where the hell is everyone?” Maloney asked.
“I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all,” said Jones.
“No way anyone would leave a ship like this undefended,” said Pitt.
“That’s what worries me,” replied Jones.
“What do you think is going on here?” asked Taylor.
“Could be rigged to blow, take us out in one?”
“Razor, come in.”
“What can I do for you, Colonel?” she whispered back.
“Any sign of trouble?”
“None.”
“Could it be a trap?”
“Something is off.”
“What about explosives? Is there any way the ship could be set to blow?”
“None that I can see.”
“All right, keep going forward, and stick to the plan until I say otherwise, out.”
“They could be planning to do just what we were?”
“Why? We could survive that, Jones.”
“Then I don’t know, but I don’t like it.”
“Neither do I.”
“We should leave.”
But Taylor was already shaking his head.
“Leave? Look at this thing. It’s beautiful, and it’s ours now.”
“You know when something seems too good to be true?”
“Yeah, I know,” Taylor groaned.
“Well, you can bet your arse that this is it. We’re lambs to the slaughter, I say. Let’s get the hell out of here before whatever trap has been set is sprung.”
Taylor wasn’t having any of it.
“Resolution, come in. This is Taylor, over.”
“This is the Admiral speaking.”
“The carrier is a ghost ship.”
“Abandoned?” he asked in disbelief, “That makes no sense.”
“No, do me a favour. Run some scans. Life forms, energy sources, anything.”
Battle Beyond Earth - Box Set (Books 6-9) Page 74