Battle Earth IX (22 page)

* * *

Taylor sat in a room with almost a hundred officers. He knew this was it, the final briefing on what they were to undertake. He couldn't believe it had come so soon, and he wondered if any of the others had any inkling as to what was being proposed. The room was quiet as they all waited for Dupont to address them. He was the only general who had held his rank since the previous war, and that made most treat him like the grand leader he was. Taylor had managed to clip two hours sleep in before the gathering of officers, and he felt a new man for it.

Dupont began talking and did not stop for fifteen minutes. In that time, he had explained all he had told Taylor previously, as well as some more filler information. None of it provided anything useful to him. Most of the officers were stunned by what he had to say, but he could also see relief in many faces at the realisation they may both survive and get away from the relentless struggle simultaneously. Finally he asked, "Any Questions?"

"How quickly can we get people aboard these barges?" came the first.

"It is already underway, has been for some time. As well as being used as city block structures, the barges have also been utilised as refugee centres. Those nations I am presently in contact with have on average eighty-five percent capacity."

"So it is already decided who will go?" asked another.

"This isn't a lottery," replied Dupont, "Every soul who is aboard one of these barges when they lift off, as well as any other humans who can get aboard a space bound vessel, will be coming with us. I don't like it, and I don't expect any of you to either. But we have to face up to what is before us. We save as many as we can. Additionally, priority will be given to serving military personnel over civilians. We need every fighter we can possibly get, if we expect to have even the remotest chance of survival."

"And this is your plan, your decision?"

Dupont shook his head. "This was a joint international emergency measure established under the guidance of key military officials and world leaders."

"But you were involved in setting it up?"

"Yes, but let me just say now. I do not have time for a hundred questions. Time is certainly not on our side. This is our plan. If you do not like it, stay on Earth, and I wish you every luck. The exact structure of this operation and your orders is being uploaded to your Mappads as we speak, Operation Angel, the largest exodus of the human race in our history. The first vessels lift off in three hours, as you will see on your Mappads. That is all the time you have. Colonel Taylor and Major Moye, will you please come forward? The rest of you are dismissed!"

The room quickly emptied as the officers studied their Mappads. As they left, Taylor approached the General. He had never heard of Major Moye, but he could see a tall black French officer approaching in parallel with him.

"Take a seat," said Dupont.

"The two of you have been selected for the most important of operations, one which all else depends on."

Great, no pressure,
Taylor thought.

"There is no doubt that many millions will get off this planet, no matter how many die during this operation, that much I am certain of. What is uncertain is how we will escape the reach of Erdogan."

Taylor had seen this coming and wondered what great plan might have been concocted to get past such a glaring weakness in their strategy.

"Erdogan has ships as fast, or more so, than we do. Hence, if we run and he follows, we will likely lose. So it is not enough to get past his fleet, not even enough to temporarily disable it. Neither do we have any means of destroying it. The only option left to us is to put such a great distance between us that we are beyond the enemy’s reach."

"Fine words, Sir, but how is that possible?" Taylor asked.

He looked over to the Major and shrugged, but Moye struck a scornful look and turned back to focus on the General. It was obvious he didn't like Taylor one bit.

"Erdogan's ship, that behemoth up there, we know it has the capability of creating a space gateway all on its own. A technology not shared with any other ship in the enemy fleet."

Taylor could already see where he was going, and he didn't like the sound of it.

"Gentlemen, I want you to meet someone."

A doorway opened behind the General, and an alien stepped though, dressed much like Jafar was when they first met - a bodyguard of a Krys Lord. Its armour was ornately decorated, but he appeared to carry no weapons. Taylor launched his chair back as he stood upright and drew his sidearm to quickly train it on the creature.

"What the hell is going on here, Sir?"

"It's okay, Taylor. He's with us," Dupont replied calmly.

Taylor studied the creature's face. It seemed to show no aggression at all, but it appeared to be carefully and intensely studying him.

"He's on our side!" Dupont repeated, "Now put your weapon down!"

"How do we know he's not still working for the enemy?"

"Because your man Jafar approved him!" yelled Dupont, "Now sit down!"

Taylor was surprised and slowly holstered his weapon and did as ordered.

"This is Aysen, and he tells us he owes some kind of blood oath to Jafar. A guarantee of his loyalty to him and us."

"You're sure about this?"

"Do you trust Jafar?" asked Dupont.

"Yes."

"Then I trust Aysen."

Taylor was having difficulty accepting it. It had taken exceptional circumstances and a long time for him to truly accept Jafar as one of them, and he did not like this being thrown into the mix at such a vital moment in all their lives.

"Aysen has given us vital information regarding the layout of Erdogan's ship, which he says is called the Fatihi. He says he can operate the gateway device. Isn't that right?" he added as he looked to the alien looming over them.

"Yes."

Real conversationalist, maybe he is who he says he is,
thought Taylor.

"So we're just gonna fly in, open a gateway, have several millions fly through it to god knows where, and then blow Erdogan to hell as we make our getaway?"

"In essence, yes."

"And what stops us from being blown to hell while we try and do this?"

"Many of the alien resources are on Earth at present and will need some time to get airborne. It will be the job of all remaining forces on Earth to stop them. It will be their sacrifice that will see us to safety."

"And getting to Erdogan's ship, the..."

" Fatihi," Moye replied sternly.

"Much of our space fleet was scattered when this attack first began, but most survived. Many came back down to Earth, and many more on the far side of the Moon. At 1600 hours, an attack will begin on the enemy fleet led by the Washington. Aysen has already sabotaged a number of key enemy vessels, which will give us the upper hand for some time as the battle begins. At such time, one thousand men and women under your command, Colonel Taylor, will breach the Fatihi and carry out your operation."

"One thousand, Sir?"

"You will have your own people, as well troops from Major Moye’s 11th Parachute Brigade and the British 15th Commando Regiment. Utilising the Mastiff armoured breaching craft, you will board the Fatihi, open a space gateway, and keep it open long enough for us to get the fleet through, then set the gateway reactor to blow and get the hell out of there."

"And Erdogan?"

"He is most likely aboard at present. Should you get the opportunity, you will end his life."

Taylor could not help but laugh.

"I am not sure what there is to find funny about this operation," replied Moye with a straight face.

"It's just, unbelievable," replied Taylor, "It's insane."

"Yes, it is," Dupont added.

Taylor stopped laughing and turned to the General.

"It is as insane as the possibility of the extinction of the human race. We have a chance, not much of one, but we do have a chance at making a new life for our people. It may not be on Earth, but life must go on. This is our only hope. Can I trust in you to give it your all?"

* * *

"Load up! Load up! Let's move!"

They rushed aboard the Mastiffs that were one of the ugliest craft they had ever seen. They were bull-nosed metal boxes, with armour more akin to main battle tanks than transport vessels. They held a hundred men and women each. Taylor locked himself into a position near the front of the personnel bays. They stood upright in the vessel, almost shoulder to shoulder, with just a narrow walkway between each corridor of bays. They truly were crammed in like sardines.

"Looked a lot more spacious on the outside!" Parker shouted.

He looked up and found her braced in opposite him. They had barely spoken more than a few words to each other since crash landing to Earth aboard the Nassau. There had been no time for it, but he could see she was appreciative of the moment they now had.

"You think this can work?" she asked.

"Probably not."

She wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but she smiled anyway and chose not to find out.

Taylor looked around and watched his Company loading up beside him. They showed no fear at all, despite all knowing what they were about to undertake. They were as calm as ever. A line of Reitech shields were stacked further forward of his position just before the breaching doors. He knew he was at the front of the ship, but he could see no cockpit. Then he remembered seeing a small cubicle at the entrance, and he realised the pilot had the best protected position of all.

It wasn't long before the engines fired up, and they were lifting off the ground. He wanted to look out for one last aerial view of France, but even were he not restrained, there was not a single window on the vessel.

"We're on the highway to hell," he whispered.

Parker had heard the words.

"And there ain't no going back," she replied.

Taylor grabbed a wired intercom device beside him and opened a channel on the loudspeaker that ran throughout the ship.

"This is it," he stated, "This could be our last ever mission but accept that if it is, give it your all, and fight like hell. Remember the survival of our race depends on what we do here today. It's been an honour to serve with you all, no matter what. Just one last thing, we're going to the lair of the beast, Erdogan. You see him, you end his life!"

They all nodded in agreement, but there was no cheering and the tone sombre. He began to wonder if he had just seen Earth for the last time, not because he was risking his life, but because they may never return if they survived.

 
“Just think of all those millions of people about to lift off from Earth. I wonder how many of them have even been told?”

Taylor thought about her comments but he didn’t respond. They all knew what the stakes were, and not one of them showed less than their absolute finest determination to get the job done. The time passed quickly as they went through the atmosphere. Taylor was almost in a dream world as he contemplated the inevitable confrontation with Erdogan. He knew it would come one day.

The ship rocked as the first enemy weapon systems began firing on them. A second shot struck a few seconds later, and then a third. They waited and counted the seconds until the next impacts, but after a full minute they had not come. Taylor looked over to Jafar and Aysen, who stood opposite him in hastily repainted armour and a French flag painted on the side of his chest.

“You really did it?” asked Taylor, “You really sabotaged the enemy weapon systems?”

“Of many of their vessels,” replied Aysen, “but they will soon recover to full operational capacity.”

Maybe we have a chance yet,
he thought.

They carried on for almost ten minutes without incident, and he counted every second on the display on his forearm.

“Masks on!” Taylor yelled.

They each hit the controls on their forearms that sealed their suits and lowered the clear screen on their helmets, sealing them against their collars. It was the moment Taylor realised they had been breathing from an air-conditioned artificial source since they boarded.