Battle Beyond Earth: Resurrection

by Nick S. Thomas

  "But I'd rather have a man to know the job is done right," replied Taylor.

  "Yes, I believed you might say such. Additionally, this is a tactic my people used once before to track the Morohta fleet. If the Aranui were involved, they may suspect and manage to jam the signal."

  "Seems to be an awful lot of ifs and maybes here."

  Taylor agreed with Jones.

  "Crazy mission with little chance of success, just our kind of work," he stated, looking across at the team still training hard.

  "Listen up!"

  His voice carried to every corner, and they quickly stopped and listened.

  "The Lieutenant asked me what we should call ourselves. We have no real identity, so what are we? I once led the greatest fighting unit in the galaxy. We were unstoppable. To most people we went by just one name. The Immortals. We would not be defeated, and our legacy would live on forever. I am here to tell you that the Immortals still live on, for they are you who stand before me today. I saw each and every one of you confront adversity and terror, and strike it down. You have earned the title. From this day forward, you are, we are, and always will be, the Immortals."

  * * *

  Taylor stood around a table with Jafar, Sarik, and the Admiral who commanded the Nakbe that was still being repaired at the station. Irala appeared before them, and Commander Cohen stepped inside soon after.

  "This it?" Taylor asked.

  They all nodded in agreement.

  "Okay, you know the deal. We need to get this tracker aboard one of the Morohta battleships. I will do that, but I am going to need a lot of commitment to achieve it."

  "Do you have a plan of how to make this work?"

  "Yes. We split the fleet into three. I will take the Guam and a handful of other ships on what appears to be a patrol mission into Cholan space. I want to present a threat, but nothing too massive. Aim is to draw out a number of Morohta vessels, but not all of them. When they take the bait, I want the Nakbe and her support vessels to jump into Cholan space, some place a long way from us, but close enough that the enemy know you're there."

  "Colonel, we cannot risk the loss of the Nakbe," pronounced the Cholan Admiral.

  "Admiral Eme, I am well aware of the importance you put on that vessel. But I do not intend to place her in any more risk than is necessary. However, there is no way of doing this without some risk."

  He looked very uncomfortable, but let Taylor go on.

  "Most of the Morohta fleet should high tail it to your position, leaving just a small presence to take on the Guam and her fleet. I'd hope just one enemy battleship."

  "Hope?" Jafar asked.

  "We'll do everything we can to make this work, but at some point we are just gonna have to hope our luck holds."

  "That is no way to wage a war or gamble with your resources," replied Eme.

  "Tell me about it, and when you've got a better idea, you speak up," replied Taylor,

  "Once the enemy fleet departs, we should be left with a small skirmish scenario. I intend to drop an EMP at close range, knock out everything on both sides, but not before I have reached the enemy battleship with a breaching team and the tracking device. If Irala will supply the Guam with EMP shielding, that will make our life a lot easier. At which point, the remaining third element of the fleet will jump in to assist us, forcing the enemy to retreat and jump."

  "It's an ambitious plan, and a dangerous one," said Cohen.

  "Can you see another way?"

  "Maybe if we had time, but we don't. The Admiralty has left this one to us, or you more specifically."

  "They just want a scapegoat if it all goes to shit."

  Cohen shrugged, but it was clear that she knew it, too.

  "All agreed?" Jafar asked.

  Nobody said a word, so they took it as such.

  * * *

  Taylor stood aboard the bridge of the Guam once again. They were floating through Cholan space at a steady pace. Everyone aboard knew what they were walking into. They just didn't know when it was going to happen.

  "You got those drones ready?" he asked Jones.

  "Yes."

  Taylor reached down to his Assegai to check it was there. It was a comfort to know he always had it on his person. The Commander got up and stepped over to him. She leaned in beside Taylor's shoulder so she could talk quietly.

  "I'm sorry if I didn't trust in you," said Cohen.

  "It's nothing new."

  "How do you do it, though?"

  Taylor squinted, trying to understand.

  "Do what?"

  "Keep surviving all this? No man should ever have been able to make it through all that you have. You defy the odds every single time you go into action."

  "I've been almost killed more than a few times," he replied with a smile.

  "Yes, almost dead, and yet here you stand, a relic who has taken command of the single most important operation of my lifetime. If someone had told me this is the way it was going to be just a few weeks ago, I would have laughed at them. You seem to be surrounded by some energy in the universe that wants you to live, and I am honoured to be a part of that."

  "I don't believe in all that fate crap, you know that?"

  "Maybe you should. Because logic and the odds would have you dead by now, today even."

  Taylor agreed with her, though. He could never understand how he managed to survive through it all.

  "We've got incoming," said Nichols.

  They turned to see the jump signatures displayed before them.

  "All right, here we go."

  "Send the signal to Eme now!" Taylor ordered.

  Nichols quickly got about it. "Done," he replied.

  Four of the battleships appeared at close range with another ten frigate-size vessels.

  "Oh, shit," said Taylor.

  "Shields up!" yelled Cohen, "This better work. We can't take that on for long."

  "Come on, take the bait," Taylor whispered.

  Three of the ships flickered and with a flash they were gone, along with all but two of the frigates.

  "It worked said," said Cohen in amazement.

  Light began to flicker at the base of the mandibles of the Morohta battleship, and they all knew they might not survive an impact from its powerful weapon.

  "Deploy EMP!" Cohen shouted.

  The device soared out into view like a torpedo and ignited when it got to the halfway point. Everything went dark except for the Guam.

  "How do they do it? EMP shielding, I've never seen it before," said Cohen.

  "Yeah, Aranui like to keep a few secrets to themself. Can you handle it from here?"

  Cohen nodded to Taylor.

  "Like shooting fish in a barrel."

  "Once they get comms back online, we could have a world of shit coming down on our heads."

  "Then work fast," replied Cohen.

  He looked over to Jones and nodded for him to follow. They got to a jogging pace and were soon rushed aboard the Sky King. The rest of their team were already there. Taylor didn't have to say a word as Hariz lifted them off the deck, and they soared out into space.

  The first looming shadow of the huge battleship was a terrifying sight, but they watched the guns of the Guam smash the two smaller vessels relentlessly as they were unable to defend themselves. Taylor leaned in to the still empty co-pilot’s seat to get a better view.

  "About time they got what was coming to them," said Hariz.

  "They'll get plenty more, but not today."

  She moved her hand and rested it over his.

  "Are you scared?"

  He shook his head.

  "There is too much at stake and too much for me to think about to be scared."

  "But I am," she added as they soared towards the enemy battleship.

  "Just focus, keep flying, and you'll be fine."

  They covered the distance quickly, and Hariz brought them to a quick standstill, landing on the surface of the lower hull at what appeared to be some sort of acces
s hatch. They felt the magnetic clamps lock onto the hull. Taylor pulled his hand out from Hariz's and went right to the door in the centre floor of the craft. Jones was already sliding it open.

  Taylor felt no fear at all, just as he had said. He had been here so many times before. It was excitement he now felt. He lowered down a shaped charge against the ship and fired the trigger mechanism.

  "We're in," he said.

  He jumped down the small access corridor that had latched onto the enemy vessel and jumped inside. He landed on a floor that felt a little soft and organic, and looked around to see that much of the structure inside did indeed appear to be living. There were metal grated floors, and all of the supports and beams looked alive. Gravity was normal, and his console showed that oxygen levels were normal also. He hit the button on the side of his helmet, and the visor slid open.

  To his amazement it didn't smell half as disgusting as he was expecting. It was like a light scent of sulphur and salt combined.

  "Lead the way," Taylor said to Jones who was carefully studying the map given to them by Irala.

  "If his people haven't encountered the Morohta in however many thousands of years, why do we presume the ship will be unchanged? You know how much Human life and design has changed in a thousand years."

  Taylor nodded. "All too much," he replied.

  "When you reach an evolutionary peak, there is no need to change. Irala said the Morohta were undefeatable. They stopped waging war because they wanted to."

  "Wanted to? I doubt that."

  "Agreed, but until we have an answer on that, we're just gonna have to make some assumptions."

  "Assumptions are a cluster fuck. Stick to facts," replied Taylor.

  "Yeah? Would if we had any. Why would an enemy that enjoys genocide so much just stop?"

  Taylor shook his head. "I don't know, but I'd sure like to find out."

  He looked down at his watch. They were down to ten minutes on the estimate of how long before the Morohta vessel regained power. The room they were in had pods on all sides. They seemed to be the equivalent of bunks, but they could not tell for what, and there was no sign of life.

  "Come on, let's get this done," said Taylor.

  Then when they thought they were all alone, a light flashed in the distance, and a pulse of energy soared towards them.

  "Incoming!" Taylor hollered.

  "They leapt for cover as they activated their shields. The impact landed just a metre from Taylor and launched him a little further than he had intended to leap. He landed hard and looked back to see the lifeless body of one of theirs. Their armour was smouldering from the heat of the impact, and Taylor could already tell they were dead.

  Many were returning fire now and could see what was coming at them. It looked much like a Stalker, but with a large cannon-like weapon fitted on the top of its body. Taylor got to one knee and took aim, but he heard Jones' voice shouting behind him.

  "Get down!"

  He immediately dropped down flat towards Jones and looked back to see the AT gun barrel mounted on the Lieutenant’s shoulder with the gunner standing behind him. They fired a single shot that rushed over Taylor's head and smashed into the creature. It hit at the torso near the base of its weapon, going a little higher than expected. The weapon system was blown off its back. Taylor jumped to his feet and let out a battle cry as he drew his Assegai and stormed towards the creature, which likewise did the same. As he closed the distance, one of the pincers thrust towards his face. He slid the shield under it, and that allowed him to smashed right into its body and drive the Assegai up to the hilt.

  He drew the blade out and tried to stab again, but one of the other legs came for him. He cut at it with the Assegai, and the blade flashed with light as it shocked the leg and caused it to drop momentarily. He used the opportunity to drive the Assegai home once again, and finally the monster went limp and dropped before him.

  He looked back to his team. Jones was sitting over the body of the one they had lost, and the others looked on with horror.

  "Come on, let's move!" he called to them.

  He didn't like it any more than the rest of them, but they had a job to do. He reached the end of the room and found a corridor that either carried around the perimeter of the vessel, or another that went deep into the belly of the structure. He quickly headed inside. Jones was close behind him.

  "Think they know we're here yet?"

  "Doubt it, or we'd have been hit by a lot more," replied Taylor.

  "It's so empty, why?"

  "Looks to me like this ship is the size it is purely to power the ridiculous weaponry it carries. I doubt it needs an awful lot to crew it. Particularly if much of it is living material."

  "Or it's a transport craft for armies we just haven't seen yet."

  Taylor nodded in agreement and upped his pace. He knew they needed to progress slow and steady to be safe, but there was no time. There was a doorway up ahead, and as they reached it, one of the two-legged Mechs stepped inside. It spotted them and instantly raised its guns, but Jones and Taylor had already got off two shots each, and it was smashed back by the impacts. The guns on both of its arms began to fire, but the shots smashed into the floor as it took the beating, until finally it was finished and fell down into the metal floor behind it.

  "This way," said Jones.

  They weaved from room to room and corridors. They had little understanding of much of what they were looking at, and nobody cared at this stage.

  "Do you really believe this tracking thing will work?" Jones asked quietly.

  "If Irala says it will, it will," Taylor answered confidently.

  "We're almost there now."

  The room opened out into a large dome. In the centre was what looked like the trunk of a tree. It was three metres wide and extended all the way to the ceiling, branching out to the corners of the room that was twenty metres wide.

  "What on Earth is that?" Antos asked.

  "It's what we're looking for." Jones showed a diagram to Taylor.

  Taylor was relieved to have found it.

  "All right, let's do this and get off this wretched monster."

  Jones pulled the device from his back. It was nothing to look at, just a small box with nicely rounded corners. It appeared to be made from stainless steel, and yet was far lighter.

  "What now?" Taylor asked.

  "Irala said we just place it at the base of this thing."

  "Then do it."

  They were all sceptical, but Jones placed the box down at the base of the organic tree-like object and stood back up. For a moment nothing happened at all, and Taylor was about to curse his old friend when suddenly the box sprang into life. It seemed to prize apart in many different directions until forming into a corkscrew-like drill. It began to rotate and burrow into the base of the Morohta structure. In just five seconds it had entirely vanished inside, and the hole closed up around it.

  "That what it was supposed to do, Jones?"

  "That's pretty much what Irala said."

  Taylor shrugged. It was bizarre, but he didn't care if it worked.

  "Okay, then let's go. Last thing we want to do is give away the fact that we were in here."

  Taylor rushed onwards to lead the way.

  "That was anti-climactic," said Jones.

  They reached the next corridor and stopped dead on finding six Morohta warriors blocking their path.

  "You spoke too soon!"

  Both sides opened fire simultaneously as they scattered to the walls for cover. The warriors were no match for the Immortals in their new found equipment, but Taylor couldn't help but wish for greater numbers. He leaned out from one of the organic support beams and took careful aim at a warrior. With a single shot, he hit the neck and blew the head off, killing it outright. He ducked back to cover and looked down at his watch.

  "Fuck," he said to himself, realising they couldn't afford to get bogged down.

  He could see Babacan stuck in cover and unable to get
the Hydra to bear. Taylor held out his shield and rushed back to the Krys soldier’s position. He held out his shield to cover Babacan's right flank.

  "Antos!"

  He yelled and gestured for him to do the same on the other side. The two of them formed up around the alien and stepped out of cover with the huge multi-barrelled cannon between the shields. The second he was free of cover, Babacan pulled the trigger, and the room lit up as if on fire.

  "Advance!" Taylor ordered.

  They continued forward, giving cover to Babacan as he smashed the Morohta position and forced them down into cover. He killed two with the opening salvo, and Taylor watched as the others advanced now and joined the fight. Finally, the Hydra stopped, and two of the warriors jumped up to engage them but were hit by a volley of fire. Taylor rushed forward and jumped over two of the bodies, firing several shots as he leapt towards the last one and landed on top of it, as he continued to fire.

  All went silent when a scream of his name rang out. He immediately recognised it as Rocha. He leapt up and turned just in time to see her fire several times at one of the hammer wielding Mechs that had come from a concealed entrance. Her shots did nothing. Taylor lifted his rifle, but there was no time. He could see almost in slow motion as the hammer swung towards Rocha. It smashed into her head and snapped her neck instantly. Her body was thrown like a ragdoll across the corridor and slumped lifelessly to the floor amongst the enemy dead.

  Babacan spun the Hydra around and pulled the trigger. The Mech was hit by hundreds of rounds. They smashed into its torso and cut deep until it was knocked down by the sheer weight of ammunition. Antos rushed to it and placed his barrel against the flowing heart plate and fired three times until it went limp, but Taylor went right for Rocha. He turned her over to see was gone. He put a finger to her pulse, and there was nothing. He wanted to tell himself that she wasn't dead.

  Now he felt sick to his stomach.

  "Taylor, we have to move!" Jones shouted.

  But Taylor didn't even hear him. He put his gloved hand onto her cheek and stroked it.

  "Why couldn't I save you?"

  Jones reached Taylor and shook him by his shoulder.

  "Colonel, we have to go now!"