Battle Beyond Earth - Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Nick S. Thomas

  Everyone waited for some further thought or comment from the President. Bylund could no longer hold himself back and broke the silence.

  “We’ve got real problems to deal with here, and you are giving serious consideration to expending substantial money and resources to bring back a man who should have died in his own time hundreds of years ago. Let’s focus on the task at hand.”

  Isaacs raised his hand for silence.

  “We must indeed deal with the threats before us, but Lord Jafar raises a worthy point. Humanity has been at peace for so long that we have forgotten how to wage war.”

  “And that is a good thing,” snapped Bylund.

  The President glared at him before going on.

  “We do need to move on to other matters. But I trust in Lord Jafar’s advice on this matter, and we need all the help we can get.”

  “But Mr President…” pleaded Bylund.

  “No!” boomed Isaacs, “I will not waste time arguing on this matter. I was elected into this position, and I will damn well act on my responsibility while I still hold this office. However, I will spend no more time on this. Lieutenant Jones?”

  “Yes, Sir?”

  “As President of the League, I am personally ordering you to manage the Taylor situation. I know your ancestors have history with him, and that may work in your favour.”

  “Mr President, I am not remotely qualified for this.”

  “None of us are. Lieutenant, we have a lot of work to do, work that you cannot do. I am asking you to manage this. Will you do this for me?”

  “Yes, yes, of course, Sir.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. My assistants will ensure you have everything you need. Now, if you will excuse us, we have a lot more to discuss.”

  Jones was glad to be given his leave of absence, but he wished it had been under other circumstances. He stepped out of the room and passed several ranks of security officials from all four races. He found Cynara sitting there, waiting for him.

  “You’re still here?”

  She laughed. “Nice to see you, too.”

  She stood up to walk with him as he continued past.

  “So really, how are you still here?”

  “I’ve been given leave. Your husband almost dying twice ensured that for me.”

  “I almost die, and it’s you who gets time out?”

  “Guess so. And I’ve got a shuttle at my disposal. I’m all yours. Where are we heading?”

  “Earth,” he replied quickly.

  “Great, be nice to take some vacation time there.”

  “We’re not going there to rest. We have work to do.”

  She looked puzzled. “So where are we heading?”

  “Paris.”

  * * *

  “Beautiful isn’t it?” Cyn asked.

  Jones was looking down from the co-pilots seat of their shuttle as they made their final descent. There was woodland and gardens for kilometres in every direction. They could see the city far into the distance, but where they were about to land was serene. Not a single other aircraft was in sight, for only those with clearance were allowed to take to the skies there.

  “You know the city used to stand right here?”

  “Yes, but you still haven’t told me what we’re doing here?”

  “Following orders,” he replied bluntly.

  She shook her head and turned back to the controls to make a landing in the nearest small opening to the coordinates Will had given her. They put down smoothly, and he was quickly out the door. They both stepped a few paces onto the grass, stopping to take it all in.

  This was not the artificial garden he had seen on the Ares station. Everything was natural here. Trees reached high into the sky; the grass cut short, and everything in sight was so well cared for it almost appeared artificial. He’d never appreciated the smell of nature as much as this day. He thought back to the confines of the Guam when he thought he would be trapped and killed in any second.

  But then Jones looked down at his console and quickly took to a stride towards the coordinates he had been given.

  “I don’t understand this, Will. Are we working or not?”

  “We’re working all right, just on the last thing I could ever have expected to do.”

  They passed through several hedgerows and came to an opening inside a circle of dense and tall trees. As they went inside, they could see an old stone structure and stepped closer. It had the statue of a man on top of it.

  “What? What is this?” Cyn asked.

  “Resting place of Mitch Taylor.”

  “The Mitch Taylor?”

  “Yep.”

  “I don’t understand; what are we doing here?”

  “Bringing him back from the dead.”

  She was speechless, as he led her around the structure where they found several soldiers with drones and medical personal waiting at the sealed doorway to the structure.

  “Lieutenant Jones?” one of them asked.

  “Yes,” he replied.

  “We are about to begin. Do we have your permission?”

  “Proceed.”

  Cyn looked at everything around her and couldn’t understand what was going on, but before she could say a word, the doorway released and slid open. They walked into the chamber to find a frozen incubation chamber. She could see equipment all around him that seemed to be working. She had expected to find nothing but a coffin.

  “He’s alive?”

  “Only barely.”

  “What are you doing with him?”

  “My orders. Bring him back, and prepare him to fight.”

  “What? That’s crazy.”

  “Yes, it sounds that way to me. No, it is crazy. But it’s just the kind of crazy that you might expect with Taylor.”

  She reached down to his hand and held it tight.

  “Will. I know you feel attached to the whole history of your family and those wars, but why are you doing this?”

  “This isn’t me. I never wanted this. These are my orders.”

  He looked over to the medical staff.

  “How long until he is ready for departure?”

  “We can have the chamber loaded aboard your shuttle within the hour.”

  * * *

  Seven days later.

  Taylor awoke and took in a deep breath of air as if he had just awoken from a nightmare. He sat up quickly but felt pain from the sudden movement, and then tightness in his chest. He was almost blinded from the bright light overhead and reached down to feel scar tissue on his chest. He looked down to see precise incision marks running almost the length and width of his torso, and other scars that appeared less uniform and more injury related. As he touched the wounds, his memory flashed back to his final fight with Erdogan, and his pulse began to race as he remembered the enemy’s blade piercing his chest.

  His vision was adapting to the light now, and he looked around to see he was in a medical facility and sitting on a bed in a small room. He didn’t recognise much of the equipment around him, but he never had paid that much attention to hospitals.

  “Anyone around?” he asked, his voice croaky, “Anybody? Where’s my uniform?”

  The door opened, and an officer approached with two medical staff. The officer wore a bizarre-looking uniform that appeared comical and corny to Taylor.

  “Where the fuck are you from? Some shit hole to make you dress like that.”

  The medical staff were astonished by how he spoke, but that was no surprise to him. The officer only smiled; he was the only other person in the room who understood the language of the twenty-second century man.

  “You’ll forgive these doctors. They are not accustomed to such vulgar dialogue. My name is Lieutenant Jones.”

  “Vulgar, what the fuck?”

  Jones only smiled once again.

  “Jones? I knew a Jones once, not so long back,” he said, thinking back to his best friend.

  “Yes you did, but further back than you realise, Colonel.”


  Taylor didn’t know what he meant and looked confused.

  “I am Lieutenant Jones of the 2nd Airborne Regiment, previously known to you as the Parachute Regiment of the United Kingdom. Captain Charlie Jones, your friend, is my ancestor.”

  Taylor began to see some resemblance in the man now, although he looked a less sturdy and strong man than his friend.

  “What? Ancestor?”

  “Colonel, do you remember your last engagement?”

  “Against that bastard…Erdogan? Fucking right I do. We nailed him good and proper.”

  “And do you remember how severe your injuries were from that battle?”

  Taylor’s right hand instinctively reached down to the wounds on his chest, and he remembered it perfectly.

  “Like it was yesterday.”

  “For you, it was. But you were mortally wounded in that battle, Colonel. You should not have survived it, but the decision was made to put you into suspended animation to save your life, and perhaps one day bring you back.”

  “One day? How long has it been?”

  Jones took in a deep breath and tried to understand for himself how the news would feel. He could hold back the truth no longer and simply came out with it.

  “Almost four hundred years.”

  Taylor didn’t know what to say. He tried to think what that would mean for him, but it was beyond comprehension.

  The doors opened once again, and a US Marine General strode in. The uniform had changed, but the insignia had not. He was a short and thin man in his early sixties, well tanned, and with a receding hairline.

  “Colonel Taylor, I am General Fin. I am here to oversee your recovery and reinstatement.”

  “Sir, can I have a word with you?” Jones asked.

  “Yes, certainly.”

  They moved to step outside, but Taylor soon piped up.

  “Hey, assholes, anything you have to say about this happens right here where I can see and hear it. You tell me four hundred years have passed, and expect me to just jump when you say jump?”

  Jones shrugged and the General continued.

  “Taylor. What you achieved in your time was quite simply amazing, but those days have gone. You’re a dinosaur, a relic of a bygone era that we are all glad to have seen gone. I never agreed to this operation, and I have voiced my concerns. Nonetheless, here we are. When we need young and fit fighting men, we get an ancient wreck that knows nothing about civilised society. I know all about you, Taylor. You jumped ships more times than I care to count, and you lived only to fight. There’s no place for men like you in this world, Taylor. But that doesn’t matter, you’ll screw this up all on your own, and I’ll be there ready for when they want to put you back on ice.”

  He turned and strode out of the room just as quickly as he had come in.

  “He speaks like I’m some kind of criminal. Has the whole world gone to shit while I’ve been away?”

  “Far from it. We’ve just evolved a little.”

  “Yeah, evolved into a new kind of asshole.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel. I can see this is a lot to take in. I am going to give you a few hours. You have access to any news or history you want. You can reach me directly on your console,” he said, pointing to the large watch-like object wrapped around Taylor’s arm.

  He turned to leave, but Taylor stopped him.

  “So this is it? I’m on ice, and you bring me back now? Why now? Everyone I ever knew is gone. Why did you even bother?”

  “Honestly, I don’t know why, but somebody you used to know fought to get you out.”

  “Who?”

  “Lord Jafar.”

  Taylor was speechless.

  “You’ve got twelve hours. Then I’ll be back.”

  * * *

  Taylor pulled on the uniform that had been laid out for him. It was the same awful design he had seen Jones wearing, but it was all he had. Exactly to the minute, Jones arrived.

  “Good,” said Jones, “Follow me.”

  Taylor did so, but there was no enthusiasm in his stride. He wondered why he was even alive. He grabbed hold of Jones’ arm and pulled him around firmly, so he could look into his eyes.

  “Lieutenant, don’t bullshit me now. You know this whole situation is a load of crap. Why did you wake me, and what do you want from me?”

  “Okay…we’re in big trouble. Kind of trouble when you do anything to try and dig your way out… that’s you.”

  “Trouble? Krys invaded again?”

  “No. Most of the Krys live under local rule in their own sector, with a fair share on Earth. This is a new threat, something none of us have seen before. Not even Councillor Irala has seen these in his lifetime.”

  “Irala is still alive, too?”

  “You see, two people you know. This threat, it’s bigger and nastier than anything you can ever have imagined.”

  “I can imagine quite a bit, seen even more than I can imagine.”

  “This isn’t about Earth, anymore, Taylor. This is bigger than one world. It’s about the survival of four races and countless colonies across multiple star systems. I will give it to you straight, Colonel. I don’t think waking you up was a good idea, and I don’t think you have anything to add to our cause. I can provide valuable resources at the frontline; instead, I am stuck here babysitting a relic. I have a great admiration for what you achieved, but that’s history.”

  “All right, I get it, you don’t like me. Join the list, but stop bullshitting me, and tell me what you really want from me.”

  Jones grimaced as if not wanting to say but finally came out with it.

  “The President of the colonies is quite taken with the idea of you making a comeback, and with Jafar and Irala in your corner, he has made that happen. They think you can make a difference. In honour of your past achievements, you are being given command of twenty of the finest men and women of the US Marine Corps and the 2nd Airborne Regiment.”

  “An Inter-Allied unit?”

  “Yes, I knew you’d like that; nostalgia and all that. This may be a great trip down memory lane for you, but lives are at stake. I say you are a waste of time, but I’d be happy to be proven wrong.”

  “Would you?” Taylor asked sarcastically.

  “Yes,” he snapped.

  “Twenty men? What on Earth am I supposed to do with twenty men?”

  Jones continued to lead the way and stepped through an exterior door that eventually led them out into the open air. Hover vehicles soared past them and others far above.

  “Welcome to New York, Colonel, the largest Marine and Naval base in the United States.”

  They kept on walking until they came to a drill square where hundreds of soldiers stood in line awaiting them. One of the nearby marines called them to attention, but Taylor did not even stop. He strolled right up and continued on down the line. The front rank was made up of an even mix of marines and paras as Jones had said, but he stopped in his tracks on realising everything behind them was robotic. Humanoid robots.

  “What the fuck are those?” he asked.

  One of the marines in front of him laughed. Taylor looked at the rank on his shoulder. He was a Lieutenant, and his nametag read ‘Watkins.’

  “Something funny?”

  The officer couldn’t seem to wipe the grin off his face. Without any warning at all, Taylor’s fist punched into the man’s stomach, causing him to keel over.

  “Colonel Taylor!” Jones shouted.

  Taylor looked up with scorn at Jones; giving him such a glare he did not dare go any further.

  “Get back up!” he yelled at Watkins.

  He turned his attention back to Jones.

  “What the hell is this? Twenty men and a bunch of what, robots?”

  “Combat drones, the latest and most advanced currently in service.”

  “Drones? To replace men?”

  “To save the lives of men,” said Jones.

  Taylor looked back to see every one of the Humans before him held
the rank of Lieutenant.

  ‘Where are the ORs?”

  “Handling other duties. ORs do not fulfil combat roles. Drone squads are led by officers, same in every army on Earth.”

  “Not anymore, they’re not.”

  “Colonel, these are advanced combat drones that are tried and tested.”

  “This war has only just begun, and you’re already losing, right?”

  Jones couldn’t bear to agree, but he knew it was true.

  “You brought me back because the new ain’t working. Time for a little of the old.”

  He strode up to him so that he could whisper in his ear.

  “You listen to me, Lieutenant. You might think you’re here to babysit me, but you would be wrong. Give me command and a group of troops, and those troops are mine, and that goes for you, too. You better get used to that.”

  He turned back to the unit.

  “Have those…things leave us. Dismiss them, now!” he shouted.

  He watched as they all hurriedly tried to punch in controls, and the drones marched away into a nearby warehouse. Taylor stepped right up in front of Watkins who winced as he did so. Taylor reached up for the chrome Lieutenant bar on the man’s right shoulder and ripped it off of his uniform and tossed it aside.

  “Someday a few of you might achieve the rank of officer, if you live that long, but from now on you are all busted to Private.”

  Jones gasped, but Taylor glared at him once more.

  “Except you, Lieutenant, you’re my number two. The rest of you, get those ranks off your uniforms, right now!”

  Not one of them hesitated to do so after seeing the brutal treatment of Watkins. Taylor wasn’t sure whether to be glad of their acceptance of his command, or angry for how easily they folded.

  “Right now you probably hate me? Good. I don’t know what you think you know about my history, and I don’t much care. I have only two things to achieve here. I have to make you into the best goddamn fighters there are, and then I have to keep you alive to keep on fighting. Everything we do from now on will be to that end. I am not cruel. I will not make you do anything that I do not consider absolutely vital. I once commanded the most elite infantry Regiment on Earth. To me that was yesterday, to you, it’s history you probably never even learned. I expect you to meet that standard. Gear up, full combat load out. You have thirty minutes. Fall out!”