"Weight of number?"
Irala nodded.
"Why are you not training for this battle you imagine will happen?"
"I don't know how."
"Gather twenty of your best fighters, and go one hundred metres west of the furthermost ship you have here."
"Twenty?" asked Taylor in surprise.
"Weight of number," added Irala.
"But what..." began Taylor.
Before he could get off another word, the alien was gone again.
"I hate it when he does that."
He looked to Jafar, but got no response.
"What do you say, old friend? We've tried taking on Erdogan and got whipped, you willing to listen to these people and try it their way?"
"If they can make us better fighters, why would we not?"
He carried on over to the area of sand where Parker had declared their training zone. She was already working the recruits hard, as the veterans of the Regiment sat and watched under the shade of sun shelters.
"Listen up!" yelled Taylor.
His voice carried far enough that everyone came to an immediate halt.
"Irala says he's gonna show us how to beat that bastard Erdogan if we ever have to face him in person again. I want twenty of the best we have to step this way. Jafar is one. Who else has the balls to stand beside us, and prepare for the greatest fight of our lives?"
Nobody responded for some time when Captain Morris finally stood up to address Taylor.
"Why don't we just nuke him?"
"When and if we can, I will end Erdogan with the press of a button, and none of you should hesitate to do the same. We aren't looking for any glory here. We want to win, and we need to survive. So when the bomb fails, when Erdogan somehow slips us, and you come face to face with him. When you have a chance to end it all with your bare hands, will you be ready? I, for one, want to know that if the time comes that I have to face him, I stand a chance of winning. Erdogan aims to humiliate me, so the likelihood is greater than you might think. I want a chance of winning, but I can't do it alone. So who will volunteer, and prepare themselves for such a fight?"
Silva immediately stepped forward.
"A chance to kill Erdogan? How could anyone refuse?"
Lam and Hall immediately came forward after him, and others quickly joined them until he had nineteen. Lastly, Parker stepped up. He never wanted to risk her, but was glad of her support.
"All right, then, grab your gear and follow me!"
He did just as Irala had told them and found the alien waiting for them when they got there, and a small ship approached from the west. It was one of the Aranui vessels, but none of them had ever seen one up close with their own eyes. The vessel looked like a small transport or reconnaissance craft, perhaps even a fighter. It couldn't have been large enough to carry more than a handful of the aliens.
The craft came into land so smoothly, and with such precision, it didn't appear real. Once on the ground, a ramp came down, and two of the Aranui stepped out. Behind them two large crates floated under their own power, seemingly under some kind of control by the creatures that led them. They stopped, and the crates lowered to the ground. Irala stepped up to them, and the lids opened, revealing some kind of bizarre looking pistol. Like the Aranui vessels, it looked like a sculpted or spun piece of steel. There was not a button, switch, or even a hard edge in sight.
Taylor picked up one of the weapons and marvelled at its precision manufacture, but could not help but laugh at the shape.
"Looks like a cordless drill," he said. The main receiver was shaped like a torpedo, leading to a grip with no trigger guard. Then a bulbous section protruded from the lower grip and pointed forwards in parallel with the receiver. Several of the others laughed, but to their surprise, Irala picked up one of the weapons and shot Taylor in the face. He was knocked back into the dirt and incapacitating for moment. His head was spinning like he'd been punched full force in the face.
Taylor tried to shake off the effects. His vision was a little blurred, and he felt his strength had just been stripped away from him. As he looked up and his vision began to return, he saw Irala's hand being offered. He took it and was hauled to his feet. He had gotten so used to seeing a hologram, it had never occurred to him that the alien himself was actually present.
"That wasn't a nice experience," stated Taylor.
"This is a stun weapon that has been built for the practice of combat scenarios. It can be calibrated to roughly simulate the type of weapon you want."
Next he pulled a short truncheon-like object from the crate.
"This will represent the Assegai you use. In the practice of combat, it will deliver a stronger effect the harder you strike with it. Both of these training tools take into account the armour penetrating qualities of your weapons. They are as close to simulating a fight as you can get."
"So what now?"
"Erdogan..." said Irala, pointing to Jafar, "Against the rest of you."
"But he's not Erdogan."
"Your Krys friend is the closest of any of us is to Erdogan, and will suffice for this exercise."
Taylor looked to Jafar to see if he had taken offence at the concept, but it didn't seem to bother him at all.
"Take up your weapons, and take up your positions."
One of the Aranui handed Jafar a longer pole weapon that was as tall as he was, and some kind of forearm-mounted device. He strapped it on and a semi-translucent shield device emerged from it. Jafar backed off into the open as the twenty marines took up their equipment and faced off against him. Taylor smiled; it was a game he was already liking. He slipped his pistol out around his shield and fired several shots that Jafar easily absorbed on his shield.
Taylor then rushed at Jafar and kept shooting as he did so. As they closed the distance, Jafar nimbly spun and cut down with his staff onto Taylor's wrist. The shock of the electrified weapon sent a pulse of pain right the way through his arm and made him drop the pistol as he went past.
"Did that hurt?" Irala asked.
Taylor just nodded.
"Erdogan may well have removed your hand with such a strike."
Irala stepped forward and stood between them to address the group.
"Why did you let your leader advance alone?" he asked them.
Nobody had a response.
"Weight of numbers. You must fight as a single unit. You do this in battle against greater numbers, why not when you fight one great target?"
Still there was no response.
"We never had any training in this," Taylor finally said, "When all this started, the concept of fighting in hand-to-hand was all but gone. We carried a knife for emergency use and covert action, but that's about it. All this stuff we have learned we had to so with trial and error."
"Error? Then your first trial just failed. Try again."
He stepped out of the way, and Taylor went back to his group.
"He's faster than I remembered," he whispered to Parker.
"Begin!" called Irala.
"The group of marines opened fire en masse. Jafar absorbed dozens of them with his shield, and quickly and nimbly advanced to one flank. He barged the nearest marine who was launched back from the shield impact. The group tried to head for him, but found their numbers counted for nothing as Jafar drew them into a long column, where he never fought more than two at a time. He struck one after another, cutting his way through marine after marine. The few attacks that landed against him seemed to not transmit any energy at all, and he kept on going. Finally, he reached Taylor, but the Colonel stood upright with his weapons lowered.
"Hardly a fair fight, is it?" he yelled when Jafar stopped before him, "Our weapons have no effect against him!"
"They have a lesser effect. Erdogan cannot be killed so easily. His weapons could cut one of you in half, but unless you strike a weakness in his armour, you will achieve nothing. Again!"
Chapter 11
Several days had passed for Kelly's people on Eart
h where they had done nothing but wait and hope. Another day was coming to a close, and Kelly looked around to the faces of his people. They all wanted to believe what Taylor had said, but every hour they didn't see some proof of it made them more and more suspicious.
"Sure would have been nice if Taylor actually had given some indication as to when he'd come," said Becker.
"This is war, Captain, how many certainties are there?"
"At the moment, just one. That we're getting our asses kicked."
Kelly cupped his hands together and rubbed them, trying to get some heat into his body.
"I'm not waiting any longer," Kelly said.
"What choice do we have?"
"I'm just gonna die like this. If I die, then it'll be fighting back. That's what we came out here to do; for the protection it would give us. This place enables us to go on fighting. Not like we did before. We need a return to the hit and run tactics we came here for."
"Hey, if it involves doing something rather than just sitting around here freezing our butts off, then I am with you."
"There is, or was a military installation not far north of here. An old airfield that was overhauled after the war."
"Achern?"
"Yes. My bet is the Krys have continued to use it. It's well located and with an advanced aerial defence network. They could well have put it back into use, should they need it against our own forces. If that really was Taylor and he wasn't bullshitting us, then I bet that base will be operational right about now."
"Okay?"
"Let's hit it."
"Whoa, Kelly, I'm with you on fighting back, but you're talking about a major installation."
"That has almost nothing to defend it against a ground attack."
"Yeah, unless they house a division of Mechs nearby."
"I said it was worth looking at, is all."
Becker looked at his watch.
"It's not too far. We could scout it out tonight, and if it is as you think, then we could plan an operation."
Kelly nodded, and both of them were glad to get up and get moving.
"Reynolds! You're in charge!" Kelly called out.
A number of the group turned in surprise.
"Where are you going?"
Reynolds' voice was shaky, and not just from the cold. It was the fear of having the Commander he relied on leaving them.
"The Captain and I are going to find ourselves a new target, somewhere we can hit the Krys hard."
"You think we're up to that, Sir?"
It was obvious that many of the others shared the Captain's concerns and waited for Kelly to address them.
"Sitting around here, we're just wasting away. I'm gonna find us something worth doing. If Taylor really is coming back, then we owe it to him to stir up as much trouble as we can in the meantime. Berlin, Doyle, let's move!"
He turned and walked to the nearest jeep and climbed into the driver's seat. He'd rather take his truck, but he knew it wasn't suited to the task.
"That's all you're gonna say to them?" Becker asked, climbing in the front beside him.
"I don't think there's much more to say. They need hope, or a victory. I can only provide one of those things, so let's go and find the way."
The two others climbed in behind them, and Kelly quickly got them under way.
"Are you familiar with Achern, Corporal?"
"Yes, Sir."
"If the enemy have occupied the base, and I believe they will have, that is our intended target."
Becker looked back to see if she was fazed by the idea at all.
"I have only travelled there once, Sir, so I cannot provide you with much assistance."
"That's okay, anything you can give us would be helpful."
"When I was there, maybe seven or eight hundred personnel were stationed there, with capacity for many more. They maintained and operated approximately fifty combat air aircraft, and perhaps more that I did not see. But it will not be like that, anymore."
"No, but it gives us an idea of the sort of place we're dealing with. What about protection from land attack?"
"To the west and north were bunkers and vehicle traps."
"But not to the south or east?" Becker asked, surprised.
"They were incomplete when I visited, and I do not believe they would have got much further before the last war began."
"So the landing strips are just open for anyone to roll in?" asked Kelly.
"Yes, Sir."
"We're making some pretty big assumptions here," said Becker.
"How so?" Kelly retorted.
"You're working on how things were for our forces. Why on earth would they even use our bases?"
"Why wouldn't they? For a start, look at these weather conditions. No aircraft likes being left out in this. That base gives them areas to house and maintain their aircraft and personnel. We would make use of captured resources just the same. I don't see why they wouldn't. Anyway, we'll know soon enough. Worst case is we find it empty, and we'll see if there are any supplies worth going back for."
"Or they've got some hard core defences set up that spot us from a mile away, and we get blown to hell."
"Come on, Captain. You were all keen to go and do something not so long ago."
He shrugged and couldn't disagree.
"Every time we head out for an operation you get all edgy."
"Just don't like the idea of going to battle in this...car. No armour, no ability to take on armour. No defence from the air."
"We've all had to make sacrifices and compromise."
The journey was uneventful, but as they passed over a hill, the lights of the base came into view. Kelly lifted up his NV goggles.
"Looks like somebody's home," said Becker.
"The solar generators could keep the base powered for decades. It doesn't mean anything." Berlin joined in.
"But that does," said Kelly, as he saw the silhouette of a Mech fighter heading for the base.
He stopped the vehicle and watched. The aircraft slowed and went in to land down behind a large hangar in the distance.
"So you were right," whispered Becker.
"It's just one aircraft. I want a full picture of what lies ahead."
"We know they're in there, isn't that enough? Wasn't the plan to raid for supplies if there was no one, and raid all guns blazing if there was?"
"No, we need to know if an attack is viable. We can strike hard against a moderate target, but we can't take on an entire army."
Kelly pulled the vehicle off the road that was little more than a dirt track, and found a spot nestled nicely between trees to hide their low profile and easily concealed jeep. He climbed out and could see that Becker looked appalled.
“Where are you going?” he pleaded.
Kelly looked up towards a ridge to his left side and pointed.
“Right up there. It is a damn good vantage point, and I intend to make good use of it.”
“Come on, Kelly, we’ve seen enough.”
The Commander looks at Becker’s gaunt and pale face and could only smile.
“What’s the matter? Afraid of going out into the wild without eight tonnes of metal wrapped around you?’
“Damn right I am. Fighting on foot is for fools and glory seekers.”
“Well, we aren’t fools. So we might as well go in looking for a little glory.”
Becker seemed to calm slightly seeing how lightly Kelly handled the situation and how calm and collected he was about the whole thing.
“Bring your weapons, but stay quiet and stay down. All we need is information at this stage.”
Kelly grabbed his rifle and headed up the hill, moving at a slow but steady pace.
“How did I ever end up here?” Becker muttered to himself.
“If it wasn’t for that man, we’d all be dead by now,” Berlin whispered in his ear, “You’d do well to remember that.”
Becker gasped at the way the Corporal spoke to him, but she simply continued on walking.
He thought about a response but could see she was built for a fight, far more so than he was.
“I guess Kelly saved your life, too?” he asked Doyle as the former MDF soldier approached.
“More than a few times.”
“Yeah, well he might be the best guy in the world, but sometimes he can be a real son of a bitch.”
Doyle smiled, and he too carried on past him. Becker sighed and followed them. It took twenty minutes for them to reach the top at their careful pace. They finally lay down at the crest and looked in awe at the lines of Krys aircraft in the distance. Most were just inside the hangars with the doors open and visible, with more on the strips out front.
“Wow, how many they have got down there?”
“Thirty, forty craft,” said Kelly, studying them carefully, “Maybe a few more.”
“What about troops?” Reynolds asked.
“Probably a few hundred with that number of craft, possibly more,” said Berlin.
Kelly smiled, now that the group was getting into it, but it was up to him to come up with the plan.
“We can’t go in for any prolonged fight, and we don’t any heavy hardware. The way I see it, the most damage we can do is against those craft while they’re on the ground. They don’t shoot back without crews, but in the air they’re killing us. We remove their capacity to rule the skies and cover these areas at such speed, and we give ourselves a whole lot bigger chance of going on.”
“Few tanks and we could roll in there without issue. Would be a party,” said Becker.
“Too slow, even if we had them.”
“So how do we do it, Boss?” asked Becker.
Kelly studied the scene once again and racked his brain.
“You know I once read about something just like this. A way of doing this with a handful of soldiers and a few vehicles.”
“In what history book could you have read about this?” Becker asked, cynically, “What to do when aliens conquer the earth?”
“Seriously. The only things we have in our favour are the element of surprise and speed.”
“Okay, enlighten us.”
“Eight vehicles, rigged up with all the hardware we can put on them. We hit at dusk. Use the last of the light. We go in, one pass down the airstrip blowing the hell out of everything we see there. We don’t slow down, and we don’t stop. One pass along the line and right back out; we vanish into the night. A few minutes, and it’s all over.”
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