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

by Nick S. Thomas

  He thought about all of the friends and comrades who might come to their aid, but they were all either dead, gone, or fighting on Earth.

  “If Bolormaa wants me to live long enough for an agonising life, she sure is trying hard to kill me!”

  “Or she knows you can handle this. You have overcome great odds so many times. This is a test.”

  “That’s not helping. Is there nobody you can call to help?”

  Jafar looked uncomfortable, as if Taylor was putting him in a tight spot.

  “You do?”

  “Sort of.”

  “Whatever, just do it, before we run out of time.”

  Jafar still looked uncomfortable, but he called in a message through his own comms system and in his own language. It meant nothing to Taylor.

  “How long?” he asked.

  “Soon.”

  The aircraft that was providing their cover was suddenly jolted heavily and slid two metres back. They were thrown forward and out into the open. Gunfire landed all around them as both got to their feet and ran either way. Taylor activated his shield just in time as several shots struck it and others landed all around his feet. He slid into cover only to find two drones taking the bend ahead. He fired on both with two short bursts and knocked them out instantly, but they were followed by two more as he closed the distance.

  He struck one with his shield, kicked the weapon away from the other, and fired point black range. He then spun around and knocked the other out. He saw Jafar rip an arm off a Morohtan warrior, beat another over the head with it, and then shoot the armless one dead with a large pistol he carried in his other hand. It was a real treat to see his old friend in action once more. Anything he had lost in speed as he aged, he had made up for with strength.

  Taylor heard the sound of footsteps. Orda rushed into view. He raised his rifle to fire, but the creature cut down on the receiver with a blade and cut it in half. He made no attempt to shoot him, as though if wanting to fight him in personal combat. He raised a weapon, pointed it at him, and came forward to back him out into open ground.

  None of the enemy took a shot at him. It was obvious what they all wanted, but more of them were pouring down the ramp to join the fight. There seemed no chance for the two of them. Even if he could kill Orda, they could not hope to defeat the army that had boarded them.

  “Bolormaa believes you might be something special, but I am not convinced,” said Orda.

  There was disdain in his voice as though he held Taylor in no regard at all. He carried with him a weapon that looked half sword, half polearm. The broad, curved blade was as long as the haft that he swung it by, and it was ornately detailed and decorated as any that a Prince would carry. He held himself with a cocky arrogance, but didn’t look as comfortable and skilled as the former.

  I have to do anything possible to try and stall. If I do, maybe, just maybe help will come.

  “Fancy yourself as one of Bolormaa’s sons, don’t you?” he asked with a smirk.

  There was silence, and he immediately knew he had hit a nerve.

  “But you’re not, and never will be. Not by birth, not by stature, and certainly not by skill.”

  He realised he had pressed too far when Orda lifted his blade and rushed towards him. He was fast, but it was a relief that he was not as lightning quick as a Prince. As the blade came down, Taylor pushed it aside and punched the creature in the side of the head with the hand he wielded the Assegai. He could have finished it there and then, but the sooner he did, the sooner he would have to deal with the army that lay in wait watching. He had to give them a show.

  Taylor could at any moment draw out the hammer on his back and fell his opponent in one. It went against all of his training and instinct to try and keep a creature alive that was trying to kill him. He could tell the champion was good, but not a match for him. Not after all he had learned and survived, but the longer he toyed with it, the more likely it was that he would get hurt.

  Orda swung for him, and he parried, but the blade pulled around and struck his other side. He had his Assegai up in time, but the force of the impact smashed it into his arm, throwing him a metre to the side. He went into a roll but managed to land on one knee as the blade came for his head with a powerful vertical strike.

  He lifted his shield and thrust under into Orda’s left arm. He needed to slow the creature down before it did some real damage, or he was forced to kill it. Orda let out a scream in agony as the Assegai pierced his arm and thrust out the other side. Taylor drew out the blade and knocked the creature back with his shield to put some distance between them.

  Orda clearly had no words, and from the look on his face, he had underestimated Taylor’s strength and skill, and yet he couldn’t admit that to those who fought for him.

  “There is no place for weakness in the service for Bolormaa, is there?” Taylor taunted him.

  Orda looked even angrier now and rushed at him. He parried off the first strike with his shield, but another came in quickly after it. It passed inside his shield and struck the generator. It died completely. Another cut sliced into his arm below his left shoulder. He knew he couldn’t mess around any longer.

  He grabbed the haft of the weapon to lock it. Orda lifted his wounded offhand up to protect himself, but Taylor stabbed into it again and levered the blade to cause more damage until he felt there was no resistance left. He drew out the blade and held it tip first against the creature’s throat. He was powerless to stop him now. His wounds had weakened him, and no matter how much he tried to fight against his grasp, he could do nothing.

  Taylor didn’t even consider showing mercy. He was still reeling from the losses he had just suffered at the hands of Bolormaa. He wanted blood in return, and he was going to get it.

  “You are not a Morohtan Prince, and you never could be. Just another slave.”

  Orda opened his mouth to speak, but Taylor thrust the blade deep before he could get a word out. As he pulled the blade out, blood spewed out over him. He let go of the hold he had, and let the body drop to the deck. It felt good, but when he looked around, Jafar was gazing at the scores of enemy that lay before them. More than they could ever hope to defeat on their own.

  A shot rang out, and narrowly glanced Taylor. That was enough of a cue to run towards Jafar. A hail of gunfire landed around him, but he took one final leap and crashed into cover beside his old friend. He scrambled to stand up and discovered his Assegai had fallen from his grasp as he landed. He drew out the hammer. It was all he had left.

  “Where is that backup?”

  “They are coming.”

  “Who? Who did you call?”

  Jafar didn’t seem to want to answer, and that struck him as strange.

  “Who, goddamn it?”

  “You’re not gonna like it.”

  Before he could ask again, a Morohtan warrior leapt onto the cover above them. Jafar slipped the spear like weapon he had between the creature’s legs and hurled it down to the ground. With one huge swing, Taylor crushed the creature’s head with Bilgunn’s hammer. The blow was so mighty that the hammer managed to penetrate almost to the ground. They heard something to their side. A Juggernaut was running straight for them.

  “Ah, shit!” Taylor yelled. They knew they couldn’t stay put, “Split up!”

  They were forced out into the open, and gunfire was directed at them once again. The Juggernaut had turned to follow Jafar, but another of the same powerful beasts smashed into him as though to tackle him to the ground. The hammer fell from his grasp as he hit the ground hard. The wind was knocked out of him, and the Juggernaut kept him pinned to the ground.

  This one carried a huge glaive like weapon with guns built into the blade. It was cumbersome enough that he held onto the shaft, and the creature couldn’t get the space to strike him with it. He drew out his combat knife, the only weapon he had left, and tried to thrust it into the hands of the creature, but its thick armour was too much for the small steel blade. It started to drive
forward and push him across the ground.

  Ah, shit! This is it!

  He was being driven towards a wall where he would be crushed headfirst. He kicked and pushed with all his strength, but the Juggernaut was just too much. Finally, as he reached the wall, the creature lifted him up and pinned him to the wall so that his legs were hanging freely, and he was unable to move. He kept fighting and struggling, but he could do nothing, and Jafar was nowhere to be seen.

  Taylor was starting to feel his strength fail now as he fought against the creature’s hold, but it was to no avail. He couldn’t believe that after all he had been through he might die at the hands of Bolormaa’s foot soldiers. The Juggernaut reached in with one arm and forced its elbow into his throat to crush his windpipe. His air supply was cut, and he was weakening faster now. He gasped for air and was starting to feel faint. He tried to push against his attacker, but it did no good. His vision began to blur. He was losing consciousness.

  Something loud echoed in the distance with a dull resounding bellow like heavy machine gun fire. He felt himself crash down to the floor, but he was stunned, and his sight and hearing were slowly returning. The body of the Juggernaut lay in front of him with a huge hole in its back that was still smouldering from whatever large calibre round had punched into in it.

  Taylor flailed about as he tried to get back to his feet, but his balance was off. He fell over twice, but he managed to grab hold of a metal box container and use it to help him to his feet. He coughed as he tried to clear his throat and get some air in. He was empty handed. He heard gunfire ringing out, but his vision was still a little blurred. He could just make out the shapes of both human and Krys fighters rushing back and forth as they cleared the enemy. He staggered forward before falling to his knees and keeling over once again.

  He coughed once more and finally his windpipe opened properly. He saw a human soldier in some form of armour derivative similar to what he wore, but with insignia that resembled something the Krys would use. He rubbed his eyes and took another look before he gasped and tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

  “Jones,” he whispered.

  But it was not the Jones he had just so recently lost to Bolormaa. It was not William. It was the Jones he used to know, Charlie.

  “I…How?”

  He tried to make sense of it in his head, but there seemed no answer for it. His friend was dead, and moreover, it had happened hundreds of years ago.

  “It can’t be. You’re dead.”

  The man was shaking his head as if in disgust. Taylor kept telling himself that it could not be Jones, but it looked just like him.

  “CJ, we’re clear!” a man said from behind him.

  CJ? Charlie Jones…no, it can’t be!”

  Finally, he managed to get back onto his feet and stood in front of the man who looked like the best friend he had ever known.

  “You can’t be him. You can’t be Charlie Jones.”

  “He is, and he isn’t,” said Jafar as he appeared before the two of them.

  The man took a bow before Jafar as if a servant of his.

  “What the hell is going on here?” Taylor demanded.

  “Stand,” Jafar ordered so that the man arose before them.

  “That is not Jones,” added Taylor.

  “I am as I was made, and I owe you nothing,” declared CJ.

  He turned and strode back towards his ship, circling his hands in a gesture to recall his troops. They were a mixture of human and Krys; all well armed and equipped.

  “Who are you?” Taylor shouted after him.

  He didn’t answer.

  “Why did you save me?”

  As CJ reached the ramp, he stopped and looked at him. There was bitter hatred in his eyes, but Taylor didn’t understand why.

  “I am the abomination you would have killed, and I would have seen you killed here were it not for the command of Lord Jafar. Be sure that we never meet again, as I will not be so kind.”

  He then left as mysteriously as he had arrived. It was starting to click in Taylor’s head as he put the pieces together. He remembered what CJ had said about him being an abomination, and he remembered just how he had called that.

  “A clone?”

  “Yes, the clone,” replied Jafar.

  Taylor’s mind was cast back to those dark days of the Krys cloning programme and the infiltrator who had been cloned from Jones.

  “That is him? He was supposed to be destroyed.”

  “But he was not. Your leaders at that time put him into suspended animation, like they did you.”

  Taylor shook his head in disbelief, as he could already tell where this was going.

  “After your re-animation proved so successful to the Alliance, they thought he might be, too, but his programming could only be modified so far.”

  “Who the fuck thought that would be a good idea? And why the hell didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because you were not ready. But had it not been for him, neither of us would be alive to have this conversation. He is a vicious and blunt tool, a villain who works for us. He is a necessity,” said Jafar as they watched the ship leave.

  Taylor dropped to his knees as he felt the weight of the situation drag him down.

  “Why is all this happening? Why does the universe want to make me suffer like this?”

  “It was not the universe who did this. It was Bolormaa. Bolormaa…and she has taken her revenge.”

  Taylor’s eyes widened with anger as he let bitter hatred overcome his distress. His mind flashed back to all of his previous life. He thought of the old Jones he used to know, and of the homicidal maniac that had been created in his image. It made him furious, and yet he didn’t know how to deal with the fact that the same monster had just saved his life.

  He wanted to chase the clone down and end him now as he remembered all of the damage he had caused. Yet above it all, one thing was more important. Bolormaa’s face, etched forever into his mind.

  He stood back up and turned to Jafar.

  “You have been beside me as my friend through the worst of things. Will you stay with me now?”

  “Always.”

  “Bolormaa may have won this day, but she just made the biggest mistake of her life. She let me live, and I will not stop until I have her head. If she wants a war, then she is about to get one. She will learn to know what suffering is. Will you stick with me and make sure that happens?”

  Jafar nodded as he outstretched his hand in the most human of gestures. Taylor took it and shook. “The die is cast. There is no turning back on this point.”

  “Colonel, are you okay?”

  He turned to see Caron rush onto the scene. Babacan and Bailey were with her, as well as several others. They looked all around at the devastation.

  “I’m still standing,” he snarled.

  “Colonel, I was asked to give you this,” she added.

  Taylor didn’t know what to expect. She stepped forward with a closed hand, and he outstretched his to take whatever it was.

  What could be so important that is so small?

  She placed something into the palm of his hand and drew back. It was Morohtan.

  “Who gave you this?”

  “Zaya,” she said in surprise, as if he should already know.

  Taylor squinted as he tried to figure out why and then gripped it tight. He looked out to space through the observation window above. He began to smile and then laughed out loudly.

  “Bolormaa, I’m coming for you!”

 

 

 
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