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

by Nick S. Thomas

  Vega smiled.

  "Yes, yes!" he yelled, smashing his fist down excitedly on the console before him.

  * * *

  Taylor and Rogers were led through the ward of a medical ship until they reached a bay where they found Zaya. He was connected to a series of machines that were trying to keep him alive, but he looked weak.

  "You look like hell," Taylor said as he approached.

  "Bolormaa's blade cut deeply, but it was no ordinary blade."

  "Whatever he was struck with, it was designed to fight the natural healing ability that his body possesses," said Rivers.

  "Makes sense that she would have something to counter her sons. A dictator like her could never risk a hostile takeover," said Rogers.

  "My time is over," said Zaya.

  Taylor actually felt sorry for the alien. His kind was responsible for so many deaths among the Alliance, and yet Zaya had never been anything but honest with them. Even when he was indifferent to humanity, he was never malicious.

  "There is only one thing I wanted in this life."

  "To see your mother dead?"

  "Bolormaa is not my mother. She wasn't to any of my kind. That is what she would have you believe."

  "What?" Rivers asked.

  Zaya began to laugh even though it pained him.

  "You have seen her, how could we ever have been related?"

  "I...I," Taylor stammered.

  "Then what is she?" Rogers asked.

  "I do not know. But she is not my blood, but she did poison my kin against me. Yes, I want to see her dead, and I know you can do that. Promise me you will finish this."

  "I give you my word. She will die, no matter what it takes."

  Zaya reached over to his left arm and lifted what looked like a scale of his skin, but it concealed something. He reached inside. They all looked puzzled, but then they saw it. He pulled out a weapon that was unmistakeable.

  "The Pauri Tao," whispered Rogers.

  "Yes, the Tamir to Bolormaa, the one thing she fears more than you," he said to Taylor.

  "But, how?" asked Rogers.

  Zaya extended the spearhead out towards Taylor. He took it and was in awe. Without a shaft, it looked like a large dagger in his hands, and he felt the power and confidence surge through his body as he admired it.

  "Bolormaa has to die. You will never be safe while she lives. None of you."

  "I will kill her."

  Taylor was still admiring the blade, but when he looked up to Zaya, Rivers was checking him for any signs of life. He soon gave up.

  "He's gone, Colonel."

  Taylor stood to attention and gave a salute to Zaya.

  "Zaya was not of our kind. He never owed us anything. He was a warrior, and one who was true to his word. I will finish this, for him, and for all of us."

  "We will finish this together," said Rogers.

  They was a commotion not far away. Someone was arguing with one of the doctors.

  "Get the hell off me," a voice yelled.

  "You cannot leave. You are not fit for..."

  There was a crashing sound, and they looked out of the room. A doctor was flat on his back, nursing a bruised jaw and bloodied mouth. Out from the room stepped CJ. He was pulling on his uniform, wincing a little as he did so.

  "You aren't ready to fight," said Taylor.

  "This is it, isn't it, the battle to decide it all? If you lose, there won't be another. If you lose, we are all dead, anyway. So no, I'm not fit for duty, but I'm still here, ready to fight."

  "You should be resting," insisted Rivers.

  "Him in there. Zaya, you had every reason to call him an enemy, and yet you called him an ally, even if you wouldn't call him a friend. I want that bitch dead the same as you do, and you need all the help you can get."

  "Every man and woman who will stand and fight now will have my respect, so let's get on with it!"

  CHAPTER 11

  Five hours later.

  Taylor was resting against a console on the bridge of the Resolution. The fleet was assembled. Every ship able to make a jump and fight on the other side was prepared. The assault ships, the marines, everybody was ready. There was a tense feeling in the room. He had been there for two hours, waiting for news. They knew Bolormaa had to go back to her homeworld soon enough, but it was a fraught waiting game. Vega was exhausted. He was rubbing his eyes as he sat in the captain's chair and yawned. He refused to get any rest, not that any of them would be able to now. They could be called into action at a moment's notice. He pulled out a bottle of stims from his pocket and took three.

  Everyone in the fleet was aware they were going in to action soon, but only a select few knew how significant that action would be. Those on the bridge were getting some sense of the tension from Vega’s body language, but they didn't know anything for certain. Taylor's mouth was dry. He drew out his water bottle and drank, but he couldn't cure the dryness. There was pressure on his brain from the stress. He thought he had been through this before, but he hadn't. This was far worse.

  This was it; their final chance, and that would become clear to everyone else before long. Not only that, but so many relied on him to kill Bolormaa. She was hurt badly, that was evident, but the loss of Zaya left him feeling rather mortal. He reached around his back to the shaft of the spear that was sheathed in a makeshift carrier. He felt the power of the weapon surge through his hand. He had no idea if that was real power or just his imagination, but it didn't matter.

  His mind wandered as he considered all the events that had led to this. The Krys said he was some great prophesised hero, and now here he was, there at the end of it all. He had survived the worst that Bolormaa could throw at him, and here he was standing, with the Pauri Tao in his grasp, on the eve of the final operation. He knew this was the end. He had considered the possibility before, but not the end of his life necessarily. He had no idea who would come out of this the other side, but it was going to be the end of the war. He didn't know how he knew that, but it just felt like his destiny. Rogers was pacing back and forth.

  “Is everything ready?”

  “You know it is, Colonel.”

  “Are our people ready?” Jones was sitting on a console opposite him.

  “Yes, just as they were the last eight times you asked me,” he replied wearily.

  “Do you think she will see us coming?” Jones asked Rogers.

  “No.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Because the fleet is on standby. As far as anyone knows, we are in readiness for the next assault against this system. That is the official line. We are holding up here and waiting for her to come to us.”

  “Plus, she has no idea we know where she is based,” added Taylor.

  “This waiting, though,” complained Jones.

  “Enjoy the peace while you can, because it won’t last long,” said Rogers.

  But none of them could enjoy it. Not with such an operation looming over them.

  “We might have the element of surprise, but you can’t think for a moment that she won’t be well defended,” said Rogers.

  “Of course not, but she has always fought on her terms. She strikes where she wants when she has everything in her favour. It is time to take her out of her comfort zone. The times we have caught Bolormaa off guard we have come close to ending her. The reason she has survived is because she had the ability to run. There will be no running this time. No way to jump out. No ship that can outrun us. She has to stand and fight.”

  “And when that happens, whoever is before her is going to face everything she has left to give. A cornered rat is a dangerous one, and she is no rat.”

  “She’s going down, trust me,” said Taylor.

  “Sir, we are receiving a message from Milo Rivers.”

  “What is it?”

  “It says Blanche…Blanche is ready. I am not sure what he means, Sir.”

  But Vega and the others did.

  “This is it, Gentlemen, the mom
ent we have been waiting for since all this began.”

  Taylor shot up. His legs were aching from lying around for so long.

  “Open a channel to the fleet,” said Vega.

  “This is the Admiral speaking. In a few moments time we will be making a jump, coordinates to be relayed shortly. I would like to take this opportunity to extend my gratitude to you all. We have been through trying times of late. We have fought amongst ourselves, but today we stand united once more. Put aside our differences. They don't matter anymore. What matters is our survival as a species. Not just humanity, but Krys, and Cholan, too. We live in the darkest days of our history, but we will not fade from the light. We will not go with a fight! We are jumping in thirty seconds, coordinates are being sent to you now. This is the final battle, the one to end them all. We are going to the beast’s lair to finish her. We are going to Bolormaa's homeworld. Today we fight for all those who have been lost, and all that are still living. Fight for the Alliance, fight for each other as brothers and sisters!"

  He ended the transmission, and everybody on the bridge couldn't help but feel inspired. They same wave of emotion had to be spreading throughout the fleet. The countdown reached ten seconds, and it was dawning on them all. This was it, the beginning of the end.

  "It's been an honour," said Taylor.

  "Five, four, three, two, one...jump!"

  In a flash they were in orbit with a snow-covered mountainous world. Standing between them and the surface was a fleet of fifty enemy vessels. A few days ago it would have seemed impenetrable, but now there was a cold hard determination amongst them all. They felt unstoppable.

  "Well said," Taylor said, thinking about the Admiral's words.

  They all knew that hell was about to break loose, but the cogs of the machine began to spin with absolute precision as the Admiral yelled his orders. Not one hesitated or questioned the orders.

  Yes, this is it, this it! Taylor thought.

  "Jam all signals and jumps. Close to weapons range! Arm weapons, launch fighters!" Vega roared his orders.

  It was all happening at once. It was marvel to behold on the screens around them as the fleet descended on Bolormaa's world. Taylor had seen far larger fleets, but to know this was everything that was left made it feel so much more significant.

  "What can I do?"

  "Nothing for now, Colonel. Your time will come, but now it is our time to blaze a trail," he smiled.

  "Communications and jump gate jamming is operational, Sir," said one of the crew.

  "All right, then. No messages out, no calls for help, and nobody is getting out of here alive," he replied with glee.

  They could see fighters soaring out from a carrier and an orbital station ahead.

  "Target that carrier with long range weaponry. Fire when ready."

  Taylor smiled as he watched it all unfold. This was the dream he’d had for so long. Taking the fight to Bolormaa on his terms. He wanted to smile and revel in the moment, but it was hard to take much pleasure in it when the war had cost him so much, cost them all so much. The end seemed in sight, but the one person he wanted to spend his days with after the war was seemingly lost to him. Bolormaa was going to pay for that, and he was sure of that at least.

  The guns roared to life, and missiles poured out from the Resolution, the Alliance fleet advancing as one. Their weaponry was smashing the enemy carrier even as wings of fighters took off. Many of them smashed by the wall of fire they were laying down. Wave after wave of fighters were obliterated by their heavy guns, as volley after volley smashed into the carrier.

  The Cholan fleet was getting ahead of them, storming towards the enemy with an unwavering will to destroy all before them. The Alliance bomber wings could be seen approaching from the enemy’s starboard flank like a swarm of locusts. The space beside them lit up; a Cholan vessel erupted as it was pounded by gunfire. The wreckage smashed into another of their smaller ships, causing both to break up.

  Morohtan fighters soared towards the Cholans. Their bravery was without doubt, especially in light of how few of them had survived Bolormaa’s wrath.

  “Engage those fighters!” Vega yelled.

  Several officers were relaying commands to the fighter squads, but before they had manoeuvred to begin their attack, the Attila soared past into view. It was heading for the wave of enemy fighters at full tilt.

  “It’s Roworth. What is he doing?” Jones asked.

  The enemy fighters didn’t even turn to face this new threat and began their strafing run on a Cholan heavy cruiser. They raked it with fire, but the Attila came in close to the Cholan vessel and sped towards the enemy fighters dead on. Several tried to pull out at the last moment, but the Attila had reached such a speed there was no time. Its thick prow crashed into more than a dozen enemy fighters, and they were obliterated as a fly was to a windshield. The Attila’s guns opened fire on the rest of the fighter wave as it pulled away, heading for the next wave of fighters. A few managed to pull away, but four more ended up in pieces as the hardy vessel went on the rampage.

  “Crazy son of a bitch,” said Taylor with a smile.

  “Have a fighter squadron form up on the Attila. Follow their lead!” Vega ordered.

  The enemy warships were holding their ground beside the station as a defensive wall, and that told Taylor one thing.

  “They’re not coming for us. They’re trying to hold.”

  It was something none of them had seen from Bolormaa’s forces before. Always on the attack, always blitzing Alliance positions, but this time the tables had been turned. The Attila was going on after an enemy bomber wing with a single fighter wing in escort. Roworth seemed to be a man on a mission.

  “He is like a man possessed.”

  “All or nothing, Admiral. There will be no retreat. There will be no second chance.”

  “Are you sure about that, Colonel? Sure we should risk everything?” whispered Rogers.

  “We risk it all, or we’ll lose it all anyway.”

  Vega took in a deep breath as he prepared himself to make the final call. He knew what it meant. If they went forward, there would be no return.

  “Take us forward in column, right into the centre of their fleet!”

  The Resolution surged forward, its guns continuing to rage. Moments later they were rocked by several heavy impacts as salvos broke over their bow, but they remained firm. Taylor could see exactly what the Admiral had in mind. The rest of the fleet was dropping into line behind, above and below, like a snake heading for the target. The weight of fire was incredible as they made towards the wall of enemy ships, but their forward weapons continued to fire.

  “This will be a day to be remembered.”

  “If any of us live to tell the story, Admiral,” said Jones.

  The Attila had come about and taken up a position on their port side. It was now taking almost as much fire as they were. Warning lights flashed across the consoles around them, as volleys ravaged the Resolution, but still she held together. They were a few hundred metres from the enemy line and heading directly towards an enemy frigate, piling everything their forwards guns had into the ship.

  “Brace for impact!”

  They hit the enemy vessel and were rocked by the impact, but it was holed in so many places that it broke apart over their bow as they continued on through. The enemy were on both sides now, with their port and starboard batteries in full view.

  “Fire!”

  All hell broke loose, as everything the Resolution had to give was unloaded on both sides into the flanks of the enemy ships. But they did not slow down. Ship after ship followed them into the breach in the enemy’s line. Each ship passing through fired repeatedly into the ships either side of them. It was utter carnage. Alarms rang out as fires started aboard the Resolution, and they continued to be rocked by salvos of fire, but it was starting to reduce as the enemy fell into disarray.

  “Take us about and run us down their aft!”

  They started to bank. Some of
the enemy had turned to face them, but others had their engines on full view.

  “Everything we’ve got, fire!”

  The salvo was bewildering. One light cruiser was struck at its engine bay and was blown apart. Fifteen enemy ships lay in ruins to a handful of losses of their own, but the attack was slowing, and ships were scattering into one-on-one duels. Taylor looked towards the surface. The screens around them gave a near three hundred and sixty degree view. Ships were breaking through the atmosphere and coming right for them, but he needn't to say anything. Vega was already on it.

  "Targets incoming, redirect our fighter wings to protect the fleet. Target those vessels and engage."

  A dozen ships were approaching from the surface. All Taylor could think was that it could be worse. Bolormaa was down there, and she would now know what their intention was. Taylor guessed that if she had anything more to throw at them, she would. The fighter squadrons moved to engage the incoming vessels. They strafed the enemy vessels, and were soon supported by a salvo from the Resolution.

  Dozens of pulses burst out towards them. They were smashed by one shot after another, but still their guns fired. The closest enemy vessel was blown apart, and the fighters took out another with a brutal fly past. The approaching enemy began to break off and enter the mass brawl between the fleets. Chunks of debris floated through space as whole section of the hulls of large war ships were blown off. They watched as a Krys vessel that was barely still in one piece smash into an enemy destroyer. Both were obliterated by the impact.