As he watched their bodies fall, he suddenly remembered why they had come. The pain was causing him to lose focus, or maybe that was the blood loss. He saw the door to what looked like the bridge. It was unguarded now. He rushed at it and crashed into it in desperation. But he bounced back off. He raised his rifle and fired a burst around the frame before pointing to Babacan. He knew exactly what he was asking. The huge Krys warrior stormed forward and barrelled through the doorway with little resistance at all.
They were met with just one fully automatic weapon. The shots bounced from Babacan's armour until he raised his Hydra and returned fire to silence their attacker. Taylor knocked another two down until there was just one left who came rushing for him. He was taller than the other creatures, more lavishly decorated in colourful sashes, and with a skull hanging from his belt.
He must be in charge.
He came forward with nothing but a sword in hand. Any other time, Mitch would have given him the satisfaction of single combat, but they did not have the time. He raised his rifle and fired three shots into the creature's torso, and another two in the head as he fell. It wasn't the honourable thing to do, but the thought hadn't even occurred to the others at his back.
Bailey rushed to the controls, but she looked confused as she tried to interpret it.
"What is this?" she asked, frantically trying to make sense of it all. Babacan strode up to her.
"Can you read this?" she asked.
"Some of it."
He pressed a few keys and looked up as if expecting some result. When nothing happened, he rushed across the room and stopped. Sparks were flying from where the bridge wiring had been severed. Taylor stepped up beside him.
"We did not do this," stated Babacan.
"They've jammed the controls, haven't they? Put us on a course to destruction?"
Babacan nodded.
"Sergeant Fry, come in!" Taylor yelled through their comms.
"Sir, we have reached the engines. What are your orders?"
"Blow them. Blow them now!"
"Yes, Sir."
"It won't slow us down," said Babacan.
"No, but if we can at least take out the power, we might get some help to stop us yet."
He lifted up his hand to speak to Fry once again.
"Blow them now!" he barked.
"Affirmative, Colonel."
Everyone went silent and waited for the inevitable impact. They had to hope and pray that hitting the engines wouldn't ignite the whole ship before they had a chance to avert the next disaster. Almost thirty seconds later the ship rocked as the explosives went off. They felt the vibrations through the decks.
"This is Fry. Engines destroyed, I repeat, engines are destroyed."
Taylor nodded.
"Alita, come in!"
He knew he was being very informal with the way he addressed her over open channels, but he didn't care anymore.
"I'm here, Mitch. I'm going to try and use the harpoon harness and bring you to a standstill. I have another pilot helping me out."
"Can you get the Guam to give you a hand?"
"Negative, she is still engaged in combat."
"Then do whatever you can."
He looked around. Babacan was messing with a load of wiring behind one of the consoles. It looked like he had no idea what he was doing, but seconds later a light flashed, and a projection of the view ahead was visible. It crackled and spluttered, but it gave them an insight into what could well be their deaths. They were rapidly closing on Ulsan now.
"Can you get anything else working?" Taylor asked in desperation, but Babacan shook his head.
"Then it is out of our hands now."
They continued their descent.
"Alita, how long will you be?"
"We have been attached for the last minute. It's too late. We are being dragged into the atmo."
It was a terrifying prospect, knowing they may plummet to their deaths and there seemed nothing left that they could do.
"If we can make a breach, we could jump it, use our boosters," suggested Antos.
Taylor shook his head. "Not at this speed, we'd never get enough lift."
They broke through the atmosphere and could see plumes of thick smoke coming from fires raging on the surface. Tracer fire flashed across the ground from the colony defences engaging the enemy.
"We've got a third craft!" Alita shouted.
There seemed no hope as they still soared towards the ground.
"Third cable engaged!"
They seemed to slow a little, but not enough to make a difference.
"Tell me something is changing."
"I...I can't stop you!"
"Do not die because of this. If there is no chance, then I want you and the other ships to detach, you hear me?"
"Hang on, I'm going to try something...if we use our afterburners, everything we have. It could burn our engines out, but it might just be enough."
"No, you do as you are ordered, you got that?"
There was silence on the bridge of the enemy vessel. A whole squad of the platoon was around him, and many of the second squad were listening in from the doorway. Finally, a response came from Alita. It was calm and calculated, and he knew there was no arguing with it.
"No, I will not. You told me to never give up just because something is tough. We are going to see this through. If we make it at all, it's going to be one hell of a hard landing, so secure what you can and hold on!"
Taylor smiled just a little, as it was the sort of blind faith and hope he always managed to muster in the most awful of situations.
"You heard the lady, buckle up!" he ordered.
They all clung to the walls and support beams. Anything they could find. They watched the screen. It was like sitting in a theatre, and yet living through a horror movie. They were at a few thousand feet when they saw they were heading for a half assembled warship in one of the dockyards. Much of the structure was built, but most of the outer skin missing, so it looked like the skeleton of a vessel.
"That'll certainly break our fall," said Antos.
Taylor looked across to see he was smiling. There was nothing left to do now but hope and make light of the situation. They were heading for the lower hull. They could not survive a nose first plummet into the ground. But as they descended further, their nose began to lift. A thousand feet now and only seconds left until impact.
"Brace!"
They crashed into the upper superstructure. They were thrown about the bridge violently, but the ship did not come to a halt. It punched right through the partly built vessel as huge chunks were ripped out of the hull. They heard steel being ripped from the sides until a man-size breach appeared to the starboard side. Taylor was flat on his face from where he had been thrown. The display screen flickered on and off violently. They were heading right for a construction tower arm. All he could do was hunker down and hope for the best. The impact tore into the vessel. He heard part of the hull above them rip off as they were thrown into a spin on their final descent.
They then crashed into the upper floor of a tall structure and pierced several floors. Each one they hit, they slowed a little further. Taylor was picked up like a ragdoll and thrown across the bridge from one side to another. He was finally launched into the centre of the bridge, and as he impacted violently, he was knocked unconscious.
Chapter 6
"Taylor! Anyone alive in here!"
The voice was faint and muffled, but it was enough to wake him up. He would recognise Alita's voice anywhere and anytime. He coughed and spluttered, putting his hands down to force himself up onto his knees. Antos was sitting only two metres away. His leg was impaled on a broken support of one of the consoles and bleeding as much from that as his stomach injury. He lay back beside it being given treatment by Bailey, whose face was a bloody mess.
"You okay, Colonel?" Antos asked.
He seemed completely unbothered by his injuries. Taylor couldn't tell if that was because of
his constitution or the drugs he had been injected with. A pile of rubble and rocks clattered through the breach above them. Someone slid through and tumbled in before rolling onto their feet. It was Alita. Taylor tried to get to his feet, but he was weak and only managed to get onto one knee. She rushed to his side and helped him up.
“They’ll fix you,” he said to Antos, “They fix everything.”
He nodded. Nobody could tell whether he would survive, but no one wanted to dwell on the worst-case scenario. Alita helped him over to another breach in the side of the hull and stopped as they reached it. They were at some kind of viewpoint out across a scenic spot. It was indeed a tall viewpoint, but far from scenic.
Fires raged and gunfire still raced back and forth.
“We did it,” she stated.
He didn’t seem convinced.
“Really, the Guam has defeated the remaining vessels in orbit. Local forces are just cleaning up here. We did it. You did it!”
“Another disaster averted,” he replied.
She frowned in response. “You don’t seem too happy about it.”
He shook his head. “I am, I really am. But you have to wonder how bad things are elsewhere.”
“We aren’t the only ones fighting this war.”
“Feels like it sometimes, though, doesn’t it?”
She couldn’t disagree.
“We need to get back to the Guam. We have places to be.”
She seemed shocked as she recoiled and gasped.
“We barely just all survived this. We’ve lost two ships, and who knows how many casualties.”
“And the enemy doesn’t work to our schedule. Have the wounded evaced as a priority, but I want everyone off this world within two hours. There is a war still raging on out there, and we need to be in it.”
“We need to resupply, refit, and repair.”
“And we will in time. Get on it, Lieutenant.”
She didn’t like being addressed by her rank by Mitch. She knew why he did it. She nodded in agreement, knowing there would be no argument.
“You’ll be in the first wave?” she asked as a concession, and he begrudgingly agreed. He was starting to feel weak, and no matter how much he wanted to be the last out, he needed attention.
* * *
Taylor had been sitting in the medical bay for an hour and was getting restless. He kept looking at his watch until he was satisfied that enough time had passed for Alita to manage the withdrawal of their people from the surface. A doctor strode up to him and studied the wound on his neck and arm.
“You really are a lucky man, Colonel.”
“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” he snarled.
“Yeah? Tell that to her,” he said, pointing to one of the recently recruited Immortals whose legs had been amputated. He couldn’t even remember her name, but he got the doctor’s point. He got up on his feet.
“You can’t leave, Colonel. We aren’t done with you yet.”
“Have you stopped the bleeding?”
“Yes,” the doctor replied in surprise.
“Then we are done.”
He stepped into his armour and took up his rifle from the rack beside his bed. No other crewman would have been able to keep their weapons and armour with them in the medical bay, but nobody dared question Taylor. The burnt and scarred armour clamped around him. It was already looking like the battle-hardened gear he had before his battle with the Morohta Prince. He strode over to the wounded woman. She smiled on seeing him approach.
She was fully conscious. Two wounds on her right arm had been patched up, and she looked enthusiastic, despite the loss of both of her legs from just above the knee. She must have been pumped up on a cocktail of drugs, but no amount of them would be able to lift her to the state of confidence she seemed to show. As he stopped beside her, he noticed a clean set of uniform with her name beside the bed. It read Private Andrews.
She looks just out of school, but she must be at least a year or two older.
“We won, didn’t we, Colonel?”
He nodded.
“Sure did.”
“Don’t let them send me home. I can get new legs. I will be back in no time.”
He was genuinely impressed with her resolve, but doubtful she would ever make it back to the Immortals.
“New legs? Yes, I am sure you will.”
“Where are we going now, Sir?”
Taylor shrugged.
“Wherever we are needed.”
“Thank you for letting me serve under you, Sir. It is the greatest honour of my life.”
“And it is an honour to have fought with you, Private. You take it easy. Forgive me, but I have work to do.”
“Go get ‘em, Sir.”
He smiled and saw the doctor looking disapprovingly as he left, but he didn’t skip a beat. He found Jones striding towards the entrance to come and see him.
“They let you out so soon?” he asked.
“You think they could stop me?”
Jones smiled. He knew there was no chance Taylor was supposed to leave, but he didn’t argue with him.
“What is the status of our people on the ground?”
“Hariz is lifting out the last of them now.”
“Good, then we can be on our way within the hour. What are our losses?”
“Four dead, eleven wounded. The Guam’s crew has thirteen dead, twenty-three wounded, and eight still unaccounted for.”
Taylor scowled. “It’s too many.”
They both knew it was a modest amount for what they’d achieved, but it was still more than they could afford.
“So what now?
“This was just the beginning. We find the next place that’s having a hard time and go help them.”
“You think we are ready for that?”
“Doesn’t matter what I think. We are needed, so we will go.”
He strode towards the bridge with Jones trailing close behind.
“You don’t think you could do with a little time to rest and recover?”
“Sure. I’d love a month’s vacation in a tropical paradise with half naked women serving my ice cold cocktails while I work on my tan.”
“Really?”
It made him smile because he could see it was a fantasy Taylor had given some thought to and not just blurted out.
“Wouldn’t you?”
Jones shrugged.
“Not sure my wife would be so fond of the idea.”
“Yep, and neither would the Alliance when they need us so badly. We have a job to do, and while we are living and breathing, we will continue to do it to the best of our efforts.”
They reached the bridge to find Song still organising repair efforts.
“How long until we can jump?” he demanded.
“Well…in theory we have the ability to do so now, but there are still a number of repairs we could do with making. There are plenty of repair drones on Ulsan, so given a day or two could have everything back in order.”
“Negative, we don’t have a day to waste. Recall anyone you have out there and prepare to make a jump to Gateway 12.”
Song looked taken aback.
“You want to get back into the fight so soon after barely making it through?”
“Barely made it? This crew, this ship, and my people all did what they were trained for and what they were expected to do. We have sustained minimal casualties, and the vessel remains in a jump worthy state. I would call that nothing short of a damn successful operation, would you not?”
“Well, yes, Colonel, but…”
Taylor did not let her say anymore.
“There are more people out there who are depending on us. Like those civilians we left behind. If they are still alive, then maybe we can go to their aid, but there will be many more like them who could do with our help.”
“Colonel, it is true that we can go on, but if we engage in another battle of that magnitude, then we may not live to see another,” added Nichols.
/> “Well, then we better make sure we kick ass. Captain, make the jump.”
Song didn’t look at all happy, but she ordered back the maintenance crews and fighters. The bridge fell silent as they waited for them all to return.
“It’s going to get a lot worse, isn’t it?” Jones whispered.
Taylor nodded.
“It’s barely even begun yet.”
“We’re ready to jump, Colonel,” stated Song.
Before he could respond, she strode up to talk to him more privately.
“Colonel, may I please ask you to reconsider? We can get fixed up here in no time. Give us the best chance we have in the next battle.”
“And what about all those who have no chance that are fighting and dying right now?”
Song had nothing to say.
“You can’t always be at your best in a fight. This isn’t sport. It’s war. You do the best you can. Now this old girl will hold together. She always has. Let’s get back in this fight.”
Song appreciated what he had to say.
“Prepare to jump to Gateway 12…on my mark…jump!”
Once again they appeared in the nebula like area, and once again it was empty. This time they knew what to expect and waited for news from Osborne.
“I am picking up…fifty-four distress signals.”
“Fifty-four?” Song gasped.
“and…”
They all waited with anticipation. It was killing them. They couldn’t understand what could possibly be worse.
“What is it?” Song demanded.
“A priority beacon, Sir.”
“From what destination?”
“From, from… Earth.”
They felt their hearts almost stop upon the news.
“What does it say?”
Osborne answered the Colonel.
“Earth has been hit by multiple enemy fleets. Reporting sixteen engagements on the surface and an on going battle in orbit with a sizeable enemy force. They are requesting all available Alliance ships to come to their aid.”
Song turned to Taylor.
“What are your orders, Colonel?”
“Set a course for Earth.”
“What about the rest of the fleet at Ares 4?”
Battle Beyond Earth: Retaliation Page 9