Battle Earth: 12 (25 page)

The aircraft was a tight fit for the twelve of them and the twenty aliens they travelled with. He turned to Sarik and asked him, “What now?”

“You must hand over your weapons.”

“Whoa, hang on!” Kelly shouted, “Ain’t no way we’re…”

But Taylor raised his hand to call for silence and allowed Saric to go on.

“I can get you into Erdogan’s bunker, but only as my prisoners. You must relinquish your weapons.”

Taylor looked around and could see his people clutching their weapons close.

“Do as he says!” he ordered.

He put his shield down against the bulkhead and passed his rifle to Sarik. The alien took it and placed it in a storage box beside them, and then turned back and pointed to his side arms. Taylor obliged with a groan, as he could not bear to give it all up. He looked to his own people and gestured for them to do the same. He felt naked now and knew it was the real test of Sarik’s loyalty.

“Good luck,” said Sarik.

Without any warning at all, the alien lurched forward and drove its armoured fist into his face with all its force. He felt the pain of the impact for just a split second and then his legs gave way as he lost consciousness.

Taylor awoke and found himself in almost complete darkness. His arms were restrained at shoulder height. He looked down to his feet, and they were bound also. He was detained in an upright position on some kind of trolley. He looked to one side; Silva was beside him and Lang the other.

“What? Where the hell are we?” he asked.

He couldn’t make out anything more of their surroundings in the darkness.

“Told you they couldn’t be trusted,” said Kelly.

Taylor could hear the voice behind him, but he couldn’t see where Kelly was. He said nothing in response. A few seconds later some lights came on and almost blinded them after their eyes had become accustomed to the darkness. They slowly adjusted, and Taylor could see they were in a room only about ten metres square. He could just arch his neck far enough to see Kelly and several of the others on another similar rack nearby. The boxes their equipment had been placed in aboard Sarik’s ship stood in one corner.

“Shit me,” stated Silva.

“We’re really finished now, aren’t we?” Herrera said, “Survived all these years, just to be fed to the enemy as a treat.”

“It’s not over yet,” replied Taylor confidently, “While we’re still breathing, it isn’t over.”

Herrera looked at the solid steel shackles that held them in place. They were still wearing their Reitech suits, and yet their power would do nothing to shift the restraints.

“Why, oh why did we ever trust an alien?”

“Cut it out, Kelly!” Taylor shouted, “If it wasn’t for some aliens we know, we’d never have made it this far.”

“And if it hadn’t been for their arrival in the first place, we’d have nothing to worry about, anyway,” Kelly spat in anger.

Taylor looked at his watch, but it had been smashed, presumably from when he fell from Sarik’s strike.

“How long have I been out?”

“Over ninety minutes,” replied Silva.

Taylor thought desperately of something to say or do, but he soon accepted that he was powerless to act.

“Why capture us alive?” he asked himself.

Several of them heard, but nobody responded.

“There’s no reason to keep us alive as trophies. We’d be just as good dead. Only reason would be to showcase us, to humiliate us. Erdogan! Where are you? You coward! Come here and fight me yourself!”

Just as his echo ended, a door opened on his side of the room, and Sarik stepped in with three other alien warriors similarly equipped. Gone was his white armour, and back to the black and runes of Erdogan’s loyal army.

“You bastard,” Taylor sneered, “For all your bullshit about honour, you are just as much the scumbag as your master.”

Sarik said nothing as he stepped aside, and a towering figure stepped in through the doorway. It was Erdogan himself. He was fully armoured as if for combat in his finest armour. He stopped and placed a hand onto Sarik’s shoulder.

“Well done, you will be rewarded many times over,” Erdogan said.

Taylor was more interested in the physical touch. It was all the evidence he needed to know that this was in fact the real Erdogan, and not another hologram. He wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or terrifying.

“Colonel Taylor,” stated Erdogan in his deep and droning voice, “We were always destined to meet again.”

“Yes, you’re right about that, and I’m destined to kill you.”

Erdogan smiled with a wicked grin. He turned and paced over to the boxes of their equipment and opened one of the lids. He reached in, pulled out an Assegai, and walked back over to Taylor.

“It would be a lie to say I am not impressed with all that you have achieved. For such a weak race, none have ever provided so much of a challenge in war, and I thank you for that.”

“You won’t be thanking me when I ram one of those down your throat!” Taylor spat back.

Erdogan grinned once again before firing up the Assegai and moving it in towards him. He was powerless to act, and the creature just placed the very tip onto Taylor’s face beside his eye socket and slid it down his cheek. A deep cut was burnt into his face. Taylor clenched his fists and took the pain without making any sound at all.

“Where does this strength come from?” Erdogan questioned.

“You have no idea how strong the human race really is, and it will be the end of you.”

Erdogan laughed. It was a deep and booming sound that echoed around the room for several seconds after he’d finished.

“You would like your chance, wouldn’t you? Although you failed miserably last time we met, even now, you’d still give anything to fight against me, would you not?”

“Damn right I would.”

“And I am going to give it to you,” he replied with a wicked grin.

Taylor’s heart sunk. He knew he could not defeat the alien Lord. He looked defiantly into the alien’s eyes and didn’t show a single ounce of fear, but he felt it deep down inside his very being.

“Yes, you will have your big chance. The one you have always wanted, and you will get it before both my people and yours,” he replied and laughed once again.

Taylor could see he was revelling in it. He looked over to Sarik, but the traitor looked away, almost as if in shame.

“That’s right. You have no one to turn to any longer,” he added.

A screen appeared and projected the full width of the wall in front of Taylor. It was the battle unfolding in space. He could see Lasure’s fleet was vastly outnumbered, with ever more enemy ships joining the battle, and yet they fought on. At the very centre, he could see the Diderot receiving a pounding from pulse fire, and still returning as much against it. Fighters ducked and weaved through the friendly fleet and were pursued by squadrons of friendly craft. But for all the valiant effort, he could see they were fighting a losing battle, and yet Lasure would not give up. It was clear to all that they would have jumped out by now if they had any intention of doing so.

“You see the last hope of the human race. How could you ever have stood against me? How could you ever have defeated me?”

“Came pretty close,” snapped Taylor.

Erdogan smiled in response, but Taylor could see there was some concern in his eyes. He knew very well that it hadn’t been such a clean-cut victory.

“Your world is mine. Soon your fleet will be destroyed, and I will end those wretches who supported you, and all those they now shelter. All that remains is you. The great Colonel Mitch Taylor, saviour of humanity, it is time for the entire Galaxy to see just how weak you really are.”

As his final words were spoken, the restraints on Taylor released, and he stepped out before Erdogan. He dared not make a move; he was still unarmed. He took just a single pace out from beside his comrades.

“You want to fight me?” Taylor asked.

“Of course. You have bested Lords of my worlds. Now I must end you in personal combat and forever cement your position as an inferior being in our history.”

Taylor wanted to feel positive about the prospect, but he still knew that he could not win.

“Give me my weapons, and I’ll gladly end your life,” he said defiantly.

Erdogan laughed.

“You may think of this as a fight, if that would please your feeble mind, but this is nothing more than an execution.”

“Give me my weapons, now!”

But Erdogan remained calm.

“You will die soon enough, Colonel. You need not rush the experience. I, for one, would wish to prolong this pleasure for as long as may be possible.”

He looked down at some display on his forearm and appeared to be miming a count until finally he looked up at Taylor.

“Now it is your time to die.”

Not exactly delayed gratification,
Taylor thought.

He began to hear the grinding of mechanisms, and the roof above them separated and opened up, revealing the light of day. A few seconds later the floor of what they thought was a room began to rise towards the surface. Taylor was lost for words now. He knew his end was coming, and he resigned himself to dying well, for he was not willing to give Erdogan the satisfaction of an easy victory.

One drop of your blood spilled, and I will die content
.

Though even as he said it to himself, he realised that was not true. Deep down he didn’t want to die. Not because he hadn’t accepted it as necessary, but because he had not accomplished his mission yet. He couldn’t bear to die without knowing they had won. He tried to think of some way of getting out of the situation, but he looked around at the faces of his friends and could see there was no hope. Then he realised Jafar was not among them. He wanted to pose the question but stayed silent, in the forlorn hope that his friend may yet come to their aid; although he knew it was more likely that he was already dead.

The elevator moved slowly towards the surface. So slow in fact that it seemed deliberate to draw out his pain or suffering, or perhaps to stoke Erdogan’s ego. At last the surface reached eye level, and Taylor was able see out. He recognised it well, the stadium in France that had been one of his many arenas when he fought the aliens for sport and show.

He began to wonder if the fortress at Brest ever existed, or the alien’s apocalyptic weapon that Sarik had revealed to them. He had always known that his fate remained in France. The wars for him were forever tied to that place and appeared to be the hub of the conflict for him.

The stadium was filled, every single seat, and the crowd were roaring with excitement. He turned to look at them all and suddenly stopped. He noticed a section was filled with humans.

“You see, Colonel, this glory will be witnessed by my people, and by yours,” said Erdogan.

Tens of thousands of aliens and humans watched, but only the aliens cheered. He could just make out a few of the human faces, and they were distressed enough that he could tell they really were his people, and not Erdogan’s clones. The elevator came to a stop as it reached the surface, and Erdogan stepped out. He raised his arms to play to the crowd, and their volume only increased with sheer ecstasy.

He stopped and turned back to look at Taylor. He was still standing beside his comrades that remained detained.

“Where are your friends now? Unable to help you. Unable to save you. You cannot hide behind them anymore. Nor can you hide behind the protection of your traitorous dog and the Aranui who will soon be dust beneath my feet!”

The voice carried throughout the stadium through some hidden microphones and speakers that ensured every soul in the audience got a front row seat to their confrontation. Taylor shook his head. The alien disgusted and repulsed him, and he knew that all that was left was to save face before his death.

“You talk big for someone who thinks he is all powerful. You have something to prove?”

The crowd fell silent, and Erdogan looked far from pleased. He stormed over to a crate nearby and pulled out a huge two-handed sword. The blade was lightly curved and sharp along its front edge and twenty centimetres of the back edge. The grip recurved in the opposite direction to the blade. A bowl guard protected the lead hand and swirling bars out around much of the grip to extend its protection. Bronze and gold runes glimmered along the blade’s length, and the spine of the single edged blade was blued. The pommel flowed seamlessly in shape from the grip much like a knife, and as cut from a bright crystal that appeared as a diamond.

“I could have killed every one of your friends before you! But better still, I want them to see the demise of the great Colonel Taylor, and I want them to live out their lives as slaves with this memory burnt into their eyes!”

Taylor finally smiled. It pleased him that he was striking Erdogan at the core. His defiance was the last card he had to play.

“Give him his weapons!” Erdogan ordered.

Sarik opened one of the crates near the prisoners and pulled out a shield and an Assegai.

“Your weapons that you hold so dear. Let’s see how they fare against a real opponent,” added Erdogan.

Sarik walked to Taylor and passed him his weapons by hand when he had expected them to be thrown before him. Sarik leaned in close as he handed them over.

“Keep him distracted,” he whispered.