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

by Nick S. Thomas

  Upon stepping inside they found just a handful of officers there. Isaacs and Irala were the only VIPs Taylor recognised.

  "Please, take a seat," Isaacs said to Tuin.

  The President seemed a little intimidated by the Cholan. That was hardly surprising, for despite his size he looked as combat hardened as Taylor. They each took their seats while Taylor's comrades stood at his back as guards, just as each of the political representatives and high-ranking officials had.

  "Gentlemen, I have assembled you here in part to renew the treaty of the Alliance. Also to assure everyone that it will return to the founding principles in which it was created, and to establish a way forward."

  Taylor looked around the room at the many empty seats. A high number of important representatives were killed in the last battle, and that put everyone on edge, but he was keen to hear what the President had in mind.

  "First and foremost, we have come to this place and this position because of the aggression of the Morohta people. They will not be bargained with, and I accept that now, as I believe we all do. All efforts must now move to the defences of the Alliance so that we may be ready for the coming of the Morohta fleets."

  Taylor was glad to hear the President finally committing to what they needed and listened intently as he continued.

  "With that purpose in mind, we must no longer risk any person or resource at our disposal until the day comes that we must fight the Morohta. There will be no more conflict within the Alliance. Colonel Taylor has already shown what will happen to those who break under the will of the enemy, and do not stand beside us when we need them most."

  Taylor smiled at the prospect of him being the sword dangling over those heads that considered dissent. A light began flashing on a console beside the President. He could not ignore it, for it was clearly something of great importance. He accepted the message. It was Lieutenant Bravos.

  "Mr President, the Yavuz has returned. Commander Sarik has requested to speak to you personally."

  Taylor's smile turned to serious concern. He could not understand how it would be Sarik making contact unless something had gone badly wrong.

  "Put the Commander through."

  Taylor was surprised the President was having the communication in full view of them all, but pleasantly surprised. Sarik appeared projected before them, and even though he was side on to the Colonel, he saw the dire concern in his face.

  "Where is Lord Jafar?" Isaacs asked.

  Sarik replied dryly and with bitterness.

  "My Lord has been deposed by the leader of the Barbarlars, just as he feared, and yet you sent him anyway."

  "It was the right move, and you know it," replied Taylor.

  Sarik did not respond.

  "Are the Barbarlars going to join our cause?"

  Sarik shook his head. "They want no further communication with the Alliance, and their leader has assumed Lord Jafar's position as the leader of our people. Whether they will accept him, I do not know."

  "Well, what does this mean?"

  "It means the Krys people are divided, as we may see no support at all," snapped Taylor.

  Isaacs gasped in shock soon turned to Taylor with a blameful look in his eye.

  "This is on you. You sent Jafar to that system. For all your efforts to get the Cholans back, and you have just lost a far stronger ally!"

  Taylor could not believe his tone. He could feel his blood boiling and wanted nothing more than to wrap his fingers around the President's throat. Yet he knew he could not. He kicked back his chair and stood up, turning to leave the room.

  "Where are you going?" Isaacs demanded.

  Taylor stopped, considering his words carefully before looking back in disgust.

  "I am going to sort this mess out."

  "You will do no such thing! I order you to stand down, and sit back down at this table!" Isaacs leapt out of his chair.

  Sarik intervened and broke the few seconds of suspenseful silence.

  "I will support you in whatever course of action you take, if it involves getting Jafar back and returning him to his rightful position."

  Isaacs could not believe what he was hearing, but before he could respond, the newly appointed Cholan stood up to have his say. Isaacs waited to hear him out, as they all did.

  "Colonel Taylor, you have my support and my fleet. This Alliance has been weakened too much already, and I trust that you will do everything necessary to keep it strong."

  Taylor nodded in gratitude and looked back to Isaacs. The President turned to Irala for support, but the ambassador did nothing. Irala's warning was making some sense to him now. He looked around and realised he had no power in the room anymore. He was completely at the will of a single colonel. He shook his head in disbelief and slumped down into his chair.

  "Clearly I can do nothing to stop you. Just please do what is best for the Alliance, and not what is best to save one friend."

  "In this instance, they are one and the same," replied Taylor.

  The President shrugged, accepting the scenario. Taylor turned to Tuin.

  "If we were to mount an all-out offensive on the Barbarlar world, how long would you need to get your fleet combat ready?"

  "Even what we have left will need several weeks of refits before they are back to fully serviceable order."

  "We are all in much the same position. That last battle cost us dearly," replied Isaacs.

  "I don't intend to fight another. I just want enough of a show of force."

  "That will mean nothing to the Barbarlars," replied Sarik, "They will want that fight. They live for it."

  "I said I am not looking for a war. I just want them to take us seriously. How quickly can you get me a fleet of thirty ships that at least look fully serviceable? The kind of fleet that looks like it is meant for invasion."

  "Crews are already working around the clock," replied Isaacs, "We could spare maybe ten if you give us seventy-two hours to get them in a fit state."

  Taylor looked to Sarik and Tuin.

  "Can you match that?"

  Both of them nodded in agreement.

  "Then you each have seventy-two hours, and not a minute longer."

  He couldn't believe what he had just done. It was sinking in now that he had just put out his orders to the whole Alliance, a situation that made him the de facto leader of all the aligned worlds. It sent a shiver down his spine to be put in a position of such responsibility, but he could see it was what they needed.

  "What else do you need?" Irala asked.

  "I need more men and women under my command, my regiment. I have just a handful, and no matter how elite they are, I need the best. The marines from the Guam proved themselves in combat. See their ranks are replenished with experienced troops and brought up to our standard of hardware, think you can do that, Mr President?"

  The President turned to a Naval officer standing at his side. She had kept out of the whole argument. The woman had been promoted far above her station in the wake of the battle and was still stunned by the whole thing.

  "Commander?"

  "Ye....yes, Colonel, I am sure we can do that."

  "Good, then make sure that you do."

  He turned to leave when the President stood up abruptly.

  "Where are you going?"

  Taylor turned back.

  "Me and my people have fought two battles without rest. The stims will only keep them on their feet for so long. We will be needed again once this operation gets underway. Until then, this is on the rest of you."

  He turned and left with his small posse at his side. As they got out of the door, Alita began to laugh.

  "You just put a beat down on the President of the Alliance, and you didn't even have to throw a punch," she joked.

  "Yes, I never thought negotiation was something you had in you," added Jones.

  Taylor shrugged and smiled. "Somebody gonna make a joke about an old dog and new tricks now?"

  They laughed it off as they split off to fi
nd their quarters until it was just Taylor and Alita left.

  "Been waiting for this moment for a long time," she said.

  As they reached Taylor's quarters and the doors opened, she pushed him inside. They each stripped off their armoured suits, and the second they hit the floor, she took a running jump onto Taylor with her legs wrapped around his waist. He gasped a little as his sore legs ached, but the pain was soon replaced with pleasure as she kissed him, and he sat back down on the bed with her straddling him.

  * * *

  Three days R&R passed quickly. Taylor had barely left his room for anything but to find food and drink when the time finally came. He was amazed they were not called to some new disaster in that time, but in every moment he thought about his friend, wondering if he were still alive. There was just one hour left to the deadline he had set when he pulled on his armour and went onto the docking bay to rendezvous with his people. Alita was close by his side, and he looked across to her. Her armour was as worn and scratched as his now. She looked every bit the combat veteran that she had become.

  "Not quite the job you expected when you trained to be a pilot, is it?"

  She shook her head and smiled.

  "No, but there’s no place I'd rather be."

  "On the frontline with a rifle in hand?"

  She shook her head.

  "No, by your side."

  Taylor couldn’t answer, but it brought a smile to his face as they stepped into the hangar bay. The rest of the Immortals were sitting around casually, waiting for him. Jones shouted to call them to attention, but he waved the command off and let them be.

  "You all know who Lord Jafar is today. But he is far more than his title and his position. Along with his brothers-in-arms, he was the first Krys to come over to us. He joined the Immortals and became one our very best. None of you lived in those days, but I can tell you, he is as much a part of the Immortals as I am, and now you are, too. He is a brother, and we will never leave a brother to such a fate. Load up, and let's go bring him home."

  The weariness in their faces had gone now after the few days' rest. A new enthusiasm had grown inside them, and they were starting to believe they could and were making a difference. Antos began to clap and was soon followed by the others. Many of the ship's crew around them were stunned and just watched. Taylor went forward to the shuttle that awaited them, and they followed suit. Time passed quickly as Taylor fell into a daydream as he considered all the pressures upon him. The next thing he knew they were making their landing aboard the Guam, and he was glad to see there was no ceremony waiting for them, only marines assembling for combat.

  He stepped aboard and gestured for his people to stay put. He carried on to the bridge with Jones, where he found Captain Song making last minute checks with her flight crew.

  "Still working here, Captain?"

  "I have been assigned to the Guam on a permanent basis. This ship is now my home," she replied firmly.

  "And I am glad to hear it. You did a damn fine job at Yaxha."

  "But the vessel is still bearing the scars."

  Taylor looked around the bridge. Many parts had been hastily repaired, and loose cabling still trailed across the deck where anything and everything had been done to keep her in service.

  "She's a tough old girl. I wouldn't want to be anywhere else."

  "If I may ask, why are we not jumping directly to the Barbarlar world with the use of the Aranui jump technology, as we have before?"

  "We're taking a lot of ships with us, and Ares needs as much protection as we can afford to leave behind. The Aranui vessels are still the most powerful in the fleet, besides the Nakbe, which will also stay behind. Also, I want the Barbarlars to know we are coming."

  "You do not want the element of surprise?" she asked, after the manner in which they had conducted their last mission.

  Taylor shook his head.

  "If I wanted a battle or a war, yes, but I do not. We cannot afford it."

  "Why do we not do what we did before, and strike at the heart, like you did the Cholans?"

  Taylor took a deep breath. He hadn't even considered it, but he knew deep down the reason.

  "Because the Cholans are a people that could be easily forced to submit. The Krys are not, and from what I hear of these Barbarlars, it is far worse. They will drag us into a war that will not end anytime soon. If we kill their leader in any way other than through a manner they respect and can accept, the whole lot will come down on us."

  "You know this?"

  Taylor shrugged. "As much as any of us can know anything."

  "That's reassuring," Jones muttered.

  Taylor heard and looked around. The Lieutenant was smiling and had merely meant it in jest.

  "Then how will you manage it?" Song asked, "If these aren't the sort of people to be reasoned with or threatened, what will you do?"

  "I’ve got an idea."

  Jones was already shaking his head, and Song looked to him for answers.

  "I can't even imagine, but you're not going to like it."

  "Colonel, we have already lost Lord Jafar to this world. Please do not sacrifice yourself in the same manner."

  "Trust me, I don't intend to."

  "I am not even sure what the chain of command is anymore," stated Song.

  Taylor agreed, for lines were blurred at best.

  "Commander Sarik will lead this fleet. He is the highest ranking officer and deserves the chance to lead his people back there to get Jafar back, but ground operations will be by my authority."

  She nodded in agreement, but then frowned as she thought it through further.

  "What of the Cholan emperor?"

  "Tuin is here to support and oversee operations. He has no military title or position."

  Taylor rested back against a console near the Captain's chair and marvelled at the fleet they had assembled. He knew that in reality the whole lot of them were loyal to him, and he was all that held them altogether. Jones was doing the same.

  "Amazing, isn't it? I wake up and am told of this peaceful Utopia where there are no wars and everyone gets along, and yet the minute something rocks the boat, everyone is at each other's throats. Things haven't changed as much as most people think."

  Jones nodded.

  "Every generation wants to think those who lived before them were more primitive, more violent, less advanced, and less sophisticated in their society."

  Taylor smiled.

  "You sound just like Charlie."

  Jones appreciated that, but it still meant little to him.

  "I still cannot get my head around the fact you knew an ancestor of mine that not a single relative alive in my lifetime has ever met. It is not natural."

  "No, but there are many unnatural things in this life, and clearly they aren't all bad. You know the first time I saw a Krys warrior and fought them with firearms; you would consider it a joke today. We could barely penetrate their armour. They were terrifying and immortal creatures. It seemed as if they would sweep across the world and end humanity for good. Look where we are now. We consider one another equals, and we are risking everything to save one of them."

  "I never understood why the Krys fought us the way they did."

  "Because you never met those who led them. The royal bloodline that ruled over them with an iron fist was a cruel and sadistic hand. Pray you never see the day you have to come face-to-face with some monster like Erdogan."

  "I wish I could say I haven't."

  And then it struck him.

  Ganbaatar.

  In all the hectic battles with the Cholans, he had let himself forget the Morohta Prince.

  "Next time we will be ready," said Taylor.

  "We have the signal from Commander Sarik. The fleet is prepared to move out," said Nichols.

  Song glanced to Taylor for confirmation, and he simply nodded to give the go ahead. They could see the jump gate opening.

  "Take us out," ordered Song.

  Chapter 6


  Jafar looked up to the small hole in the ceiling, the only source of daylight. The toxins had long since worn off, but he had lost track of how many days he had been there as a result of their effects. He was sitting against a damp wall and had been stripped of his armour. He wore just the skin-tight compression suit that still had the gaping hole and bandage over his flank. He peeled it back. The wound was healing quickly, and he no longer winced in pain as he moved.

  He heard something slide across the floor. A wooden tray bumped across the ground and stopped a metre away from him. It was the same god-awful food he had been living on since he arrived. Some kind of primitive bread denser than an overcooked steak, and a slime that barely seemed edible at all. Years of living a life of luxury had not let him forget the bad times, and he would weather them once again. He picked up the plate and looked up at the Barbarlar guard who had thrown it at him. He stood behind prison bars woven together from a local vine that seemed as strong as tempered steel. Every part of life was tough on this planet, and he could see what it had done to those that inhabited the savage land.

  The guard looked at him with disgust, as if insulted by his lavish and decadent ways. But Jafar would have none of it. He picked up the bread and chewed down on it as if it were any other meal, refusing to be seen as weak amongst anyone, let alone the savages now imprisoning him. He got halfway through the food, and the guard had not left; yet he always had within seconds before. He knew something was different this time. He could hear footsteps approaching and stopped eating so that he may listen and watch intently.

  Two other guards strode into view on the other side of the bars. They hauled Boz and Gur alongside them, with their hands bound in a thick twine. Both looked battered and bloody, and with barely enough energy to walk. They were dragging their feet and completely unable to resist. Jafar brought his legs back and began to get up when the guard shouted at him.

  "Stay!"

  The command disgusted him. He was being treated like an enslaved animal, but there was nothing he could do to change their situation. All he could do was wait and hope someone would come for him. Part of him wished he had not sent Sarik away, but had he not, it would only have condemned him and so many more to the same fate. A hatch with a hinged opening at the top was raised, and his two comrades thrown inside. They couldn't keep their balance in their weakened state and staggered in, falling to the floor. The hatch was thrown back down, its base sliding into channels in the floor. A lock slid across, firmly holding it in place.