“Magnificent, every time,” said Taylor.
“What do you want me to do? Some heavy shit out there.”
“Stick to the plan. We go in!”
Rains put the power down, and they soared out from the hull of the Baron. As they made it out, Taylor studied every video feed on the screens around the cockpit. He could see beams firing from the Aranui vessels, and the Diderot’s guns lit the ship up from bow to stern. Pulses from the enemy vessels were already pounding the friendly vessels.
“I sure hope they can handle themselves. They’re our ride out of here,” said Rains.
A wing of a dozen enemy fighters was closing fast, but they could see the Baron and her support vessels were closing on an intercept course and had already opened fire.
“Should have a clear run at it from here,” said Rains.
“Good.”
“Volgograd, never been there.”
“Me neither, Eddie, can’t say I ever wanted to.”
They were into the atmosphere in less than three minutes of arriving in the Solar System and soaring towards their targets. On the scanners they could see dozens of other copters and heavy support craft on their flanks, and they knew there were many more out of scanner range.
“Never thought I’d see it again,” said Rains.
“What?”
“A full on assault. No pissing about, no guerrilla attacks. We’re finally back to the big leagues,” he stated as they watched dozens of their capitol ships duke it out with the Mech vessels defending the world.
“Let’s see how they feel, hey? See how they like it.”
As they got into orbit, they could see some of their allied fighters already cutting a path through enemy ships that had scrambled to oppose them, but it was too late.
“Jump was perfect. We’re three minutes out from the target.”
As he said it, they could see one of the enemy vessels get through their wing of fighters ahead, and Eddie was quick to target it with the nose gun.
“Time for payback.”
He squeezed the trigger. The first few shots went wide, but he kept his finger down and simply directed the tracer fire towards the enemy ship. Several of the rounds smashed into the lower hull of the craft and tore off several of the guns fitted there, but it soon banked to make a pass and rushed past them. They looked back to the screens. It was banking hard at their rear and coming around for another pass.
“Sixty seconds out! He’s coming up fast!”
Taylor took one last look at the screens before rushing to the side door where the enemy ship would soon fly past. He hit the door release and felt the turbulence as air rushed in. He raised his rifle and watched the enemy craft begin firing as it came for another pass. He took aim as it came up beside them and was about to pull the trigger when he heard Eddie yell.
“Incoming!”
Rains banked hard, and the pulse from the anti-aircraft battery below missed them by centimetres and just scorched one of the side doors. The marines were thrown about.
“Whoa, that was close!”
He looked back with a smile, but Taylor had disappeared. Jafar rushed to the doorway to just make out Taylor falling to the ground a way back.
“Oh, shit,” said Rains.
Jafar leapt out without any further hesitation, though they had already covered considerable ground by the time he had gotten out the door.
“Bring us around!” Silva shouted.
“I can’t. We have our orders!”
“You want to be responsible for getting the Colonel killed?” Silva shouted.
“Hell, no!”
Taylor felt his thrusters kick in, but he was stunned. He remembered hitting something hard on his way out of the door and was just about coming to when he felt the ground beneath him. The thrusters landed him safely, but his legs gave out from under him immediately, and he collapsed like timber on the light snow beneath him. He felt his helmet crash into the hard surface of concrete beneath the light smattering of snow before he finally came to a standstill.
The impact on his head was enough to wake him up, despite the fact it sent pain surging through his neck and down his spine. He groaned as he put his hands out and pushed himself up until he was kneeling. The first thing he noticed was blood in front of him – human blood. It was not his, but it glowed on the surface of the snow. He looked up to see three humans.
One was cut and bleeding badly, one wore a dirty and torn set of fatigues, and another had nothing but a pair of ripped jeans. The third was a young woman who looked scrawnier than any of them, but she had blue blood splattered over her shoulder. They looked filthy and malnourished. They stared at him with wide eyes and utter astonishment. Each one of them held some type of close combat weapon. One had a spear, another a half-metre long short sword, and the third a metal ball ended mace. The weapons looked as if made with crude blacksmithing skills.
“Taylor,” one of the men whispered.
He was in utter shock and had no idea what he was looking at. He looked past them and could see a two-metre high wall, and crowds of Krys sitting above them. It all made sense to him now. He pushed off on his right leg and stood up straight. He turned to see that he had landed almost dead centre in the arena. Hundreds, if not thousands of the aliens packed out the tiered seating around them.
One Krys lay dead at the side of the arena with a trail of blue blood leading up to him. More than a dozen human bodies were scattered about the floor. He stopped to look at the creature standing opposite the three humans. It didn’t wear the Mech armoured suits he was familiar with.
The creature’s head was exposed, but it wore a slim armoured plate on its torso and another on its right arm and right leg. Despite the lack of armour, it was the largest Krys he had ever seen, standing at almost nine feet.
“Oh, boy,” he muttered to himself.
“It’s really him, isn’t it?” asked the terrified woman behind him.
He looked up to the stalls to see that barely a single one of the Krys was armed or armoured. That was something at least. Finally, his eyes locked with the huge beast in the arena. It bared its teeth and appeared to growl at him. He simply smiled back and turned to the humans.
“Yes, I’m Colonel Taylor. I’m here to get you out, but I don’t have much time. How many of you are there here?”
The woman looked astonished.
“You don’t know?”
“Until two days ago I didn’t know the name of this city and had no idea a single human was here. Quickly please, how many?”
“We were twenty-five thousand when came here. Now, twelve thousand.”
Taylor’s eyes lit up. The losses were horrific, and yet all he saw was the potential number they could save. He looked down and found his rifle had gone, his shield, too. Only his Assegai and his pistol remained. He drew out the blade and raised it in the air.
“I am Colonel Mitch Taylor!” He shouted for all to hear, but he need not have spoken so loud, as his voice was boosted through hidden microphones that amplified his voice around the entire arena.
“You know who I am, and you know why I’m here. I have been the cause of death for more of your kind than are sitting here today! Surrender, and I assure you that no further harm will come to you!”
No response came, until finally he could hear the massive creature in the arena begin to laugh. It was a slow and low down grunt of a laugh that amplified to almost deafening levels.
“Okay, so that’s how it’s gonna be,” Taylor said to himself.
The creature raised its weapon into two hands. On one end there was a metre long blade and the other a double-pronged hook. It shouted out some words in its own language before charging at him like a raging bull. It swung for him with a horizontal strike so powerful it would have cleaved him in two. He ducked under and thrust his Assegai into the inside thigh behind its leg armour and braced for impact.
Taylor held on tight and firm as the creature connected with him, and he brought it to
a dead stop as it cried out in pain. It raised its huge pole weapon up and thrust the hooks downwards like a pile driver, but Taylor was quick to spin out of the way and drive his blade into the small of the beast’s back. It twisted around to strike him, but he simply ducked under to where had come from, and up under its torso plate into the stomach.
Blue blood gushed out from the wound and coated his lead arm. The beast folded almost in two and lowered its head to his level. He drew out his Assegai and drove it up under the creature’s jaw, through its mouth, and right up into the brain. Further blood poured out over him. He stood under the wound as if it were a shower. He held it there for a few moments just for grizzly effect before drawing it out and stepping out from the creature. It collapsed lifelessly into the snow in a pool of its own blood.
Utter silence followed.
“It’s really him,” one of the men said.
The three of them hadn’t moved from where he’d first seen them. The silence was finally broken by the sounds of large doors opening around them. He turned and looked all around him as the blood continued to seep from his skin and armour. Five Krys warriors stepped out into the arena. They were equipped with a variety of armour and hand weapons just as the first had been. None were quite as large, but they closed in on him until they formed a circle ten metres in diameter. They had walked right past the three other humans, and Taylor was glad of it. He could see they had suffered enough already.
Not one of the creatures made a move now, as if waiting for him to initiate. He seized his opportunity and rushed at one. His attack was so fast that the creature barely had time to raise its sword, but his first strike was only a feint, and he quickly ducked under and thrust his Assegai into the creature’s groin, and then into its neck as it keeled over.
As Taylor regained his footing, he could see the other four were already descending upon him. They came at him in a line, so he dashed to the right flank and then kept moving so that he drew them into a column and nullified their numerical advantage. Now he only faced one creature carrying a very short spear and shield almost as tall as it stood.
As the creature lunged for him wildly, he leapt back with his lead foot and thrust down into the upper arm so that his Assegai went right through and immediately incapacitated the arm. He then took hold of the top of the shield with his left hand and forced it down, thrusting his Assegai into the creature’s face. The blade went deep into the beast’s left eye socket with no resistance at all, but before he could draw it out, a huge glaive descended onto his weapon. The Assegai was pressed against the shield and eye socket at each end. The force of the cut snapped it in two as he recoiled back for safety.
Taylor was left holding nothing but the handle of his broken weapon that was now rendered useless.
“Taylor!” one of the men yelled. He turned to the spear thrown into his hands, and twisted just in time to drop to his knees and drive the spear high. The tip pierced the throat of one of his attackers, and as it collapsed down on top of him, it ran down the length of the shaft. He let go of the weapon and leapt out as the other two descended upon him. He had gotten out of reach, and they began to circle him now and see that they had to work together. He stopped, and they came to a standstill, too. His hands were empty now.
He looked from one to the other and then back again. The one to his right carried a short sword, and the one to his left had two hatchet-like blades. They were standoffish and cautious now. They knew to attack together, and he knew he was in trouble.
“Come on, you fuckers!”
It was enough to draw them out. The second he saw movement out of the corner of his eye his right hand ripped his pistol from its holster. He got off two shots into the face of the sword wielder. He quickly turned to face the other, but it was too late. He voided away, but one of the hatchets clipped his cheek and opened up a deep wound.
He raised his pistol to fire, but the next cut from the other hatchet smashed it down and out of his hands. The creature came at him swinging wildly now, and all he could do was back off and void each of the strikes. Suddenly, he saw his opportunity to go forward and jumped into a roll below a cut coming for his head.
As he came back up to his feet, he noticed one of the enemy blades lying on the ground beside him. He grabbed it and was back on his feet in seconds and now stood against the last creature. With his left hand, he gripped the combat knife on his webbing. The creature let out a frenzied scream and then came right at him. He drew the dagger and threw it in one. The blade embedded in the creature’s shoulder and gave him the opening he needed. The wound caused one of the axes to drop from the beast’s grasp, and as the other cut weakly towards him, he stepped aside and brought down a heavy cut onto its wrist. It was severed and dropped to the snow still grasping the hatchet.
The Krys warrior stood before him now helpless, but he showed no mercy. He raised the sword up and cut down with all his power so that the blade drove deep into its collar and twenty centimetres down into its body before it collapsed down dead.
“My name is Colonel Mitch Taylor. If any of you make it out alive, you tell Erdogan, I’m coming for him!”
Taylor was breathing heavily, and he could taste the foulness of the blood on his lips that was now mixing with the salt of his own sweat. It was seeping into the wound on his cheek, but he refused to show any sign of weakness. He stood before them defiantly, now without a weapon in hand. Several of them began to rise out of their seats. He hoped they would turn and run, but he knew he wouldn’t have so much luck.
A few leapt over the arena wall and descended in to confront him. They picked up the weapons of the fallen as dozens more leapt in to join them. The three humans bunched up with Taylor as he prised a hatchet from the creature’s dead hand and got ready to defend himself. He knew he had no chance now.
The Krys warriors were all around them now and just ten metres away when explosives rang out in the stalls. He looked up to see automatic gunfire rain down on the creatures. Then he heard screams, and a hail of more gunfire as Jafar appeared from one of the doors that his attackers had come from. He was gunning the enemy down mercilessly. There was more gunfire, and marines began to descend from two craft above them. The Krys began scattering and running for their lives. He took a deep breath and sighed in relief as he turned to the three humans standing beside him.
“You really did it,” said the woman, and she began to cry.
Taylor could see multiple scars on her body that had been inflicted over many months. She was no stranger to combat, and he didn’t think any less of her as she collapsed into a heap at his feet and balled her eyes out. Her accent sounded eastern European, but he didn’t know well enough to say where from.
“You all soldiers?” he asked them.
The two men nodded. Taylor looked past them and saw Silva descend into the arena with all who were aboard their copter.
“You’re safe. I’m sorry it took this long, but you’re safe now,” he said to them.
Silva rushed to his side after taking a few shots and stopped to look at the bloody mess he was in.
“We left you for two minutes, what the hell happened?”
“Landed in a heap of shit is what happened.”
“Your weapons?” Silva asked, looking at the hatchet in the Colonel’s hand.
“Used ‘em.”
Silva drew out his Assegai and handed it to Taylor who then reached down and picked up his pistol.
“Always land on your feet,” Silva said, smiling.
“Feet? Think I landed on my damn head.”
He looked back to the three arena fighters.
“Can you stick with us until we can get you out?”
“We’d follow you anywhere,” said one of the men.
He reached down and hauled the woman to her feet.
“You good?” he asked her.
To his amazement she was smiling.
“I am now,” she replied.
He looked out across the stadium. The unarme
d Krys were still trying to flee and were getting bottlenecked at every point. It was a turkey shoot, and not one of them felt badly about it. Even over the sound of rifle fire, they could hear the ship borne artillery and missiles hitting strategic locations all across the base. They could feel every impact through their feet from the ground reverberating. He turned to see Jafar approaching. Taylor looked back to console the three fighters with him.
“He’s with us.”
“We know. We all know Colonel Taylor and Jafar.”
Taylor was surprised but glad to hear it. Jafar looked at the blood on him and the bodies scattered about.
“A good fight?” he asked.
“Well, I won.”
“Good, then.”
“I’m Ruzena,” said the woman, “and this is Cyril and Rob.”
“Not normally on first name basis with many,” said Taylor, “but you can call me Mitch, if you like.”
He could see in her eyes that they were all scarred deep down, like Jones had been. If using given names was what helped to keep them going and kept them human, he wasn’t going to argue with it.
“Colonel Taylor, er Mitch,” said the woman, “everyone talks about you. Prays for the day you’ll come and save us, and here you are.”
“Yeah, well I’m not alone, but we have got a tight window, so let’s move!”
He looked at the map on the pad fitted to his left arm. The screen was cracked from an impact, but it was still readable.
“We’re only half a klick from the prison,” he stated.
They rushed out from the arena and saw Krys warriors fleeing in every direction. Almost none of them were armed, and they were being cut down from automatic fire from seemingly every direction. Taylor wanted to stay and enjoy watching their defeat no matter how sick it made him feel, but he knew he had a job to do. They hurried onwards. The two towers at the entrance lay in ruins, and several others were being hit from the air.
As they approached, a few Mechs rushed out from the building to confront them. Taylor stayed behind the lines of shields and watched his people systematically gun down what little resistance there was.
“Hey, Rains!” Taylor called into his comms.
Battle Earth: 12 Page 11