Battle Earth IX (23 page)

Have I breathed my last breath of air on Earth?

Taylor was truly fearful that they had reached the end of an era, the end of humanity, as they knew it. The threat of death to himself and those he loved he had grown used to and was all too familiar with. But their hold on Earth was something he had always held on to. It was the reason they fought. It was the only thing he would never give up. And yet now he had set off from the planet, knowing he may never return, even if he did survive.

This fact bothered him more than anything else. The thought of never stepping foot on Earth again was more worrying than facing Erdogan. It was in this moment he overcame his fear of the alien leader.

I will return to Earth, and nothing will stop me,
he told himself.

The ships soared towards the Fatihi, passing several dozen enemy vessels en route. Many were powerless or intermittently trying to redirect. Half of them were unable to act. Simultaneously, the allied fleet was descending on the enemy craft. Railguns and missiles fired on the disabled vessels, but they were soon preoccupied with those enemy vessels still active. The fire began to target the Mastiff column once again, and they could do nothing but absorb the fire.

The heavily armoured Mastiffs had no weapons at all. They were nothing more than armoured coffins with a ramming prow. The relentless fire of the enemy finally smashed through the first Mastiff as they were on their descent to the Fatihi. As the next came under fire, two of the allied frigates soared into view and crossed into the line of fire and took the worst of it. They were struck one time after another and kept going despite it.

The two ships were ripped apart as the Mastiffs made the last few hundred metres and themselves plunged through the wrecks of the allied frigates. Mitch knew their own forces would be taking a beating outside, and he was glad his people weren’t able to see it. He could see their destruction in his head, and it made him feel sick.

They were just moments from contact with the Fatihi when Taylor locked eye contact with Parker. He didn’t say a word, but his expression spoke a thousand words. A tear came to her eye before it dropped down her cheek and onto a smile.

Taylor finally opened his mouth to say something to her but was interrupted by the impact they felt when they burst through the wrecked hulk with little resistance. Another of the Mastiffs blew apart under the weight of dozens of shots from enemy vessels, but it was the last of it. The other eight craft used reverse thrust at the very last moment before plunging into the hull of the Fatihi.

Taylor and his people were rocked by the impact, but the restraining braces they were locked into kept them all in position and without injury. His Mastiff came to an abrupt halt after plunging through three interior walls of the ship. Taylor couldn’t believe the Mastiff has stayed in one piece. He had never believed in the design and opposed using them.

Fucking things worked after all,
he thought.

The braces holding them in retracted five seconds after they came to a standstill, and it felt good to be released from their hold. Just seconds later, five ramps on either side of the Mastiff opened and dropped down onto the deck of the Fatihi.

Here we go again.

He lifted his rifle, cocked the firing mechanism, and then looked out to his Company. They had not yet moved and were looking to him to take the first step. He could see the worry in their faces. Every other insertion into enemy territory had been followed by immediate and rapid deployment. He went to move but stopped for just a second, realising the fear that overcame those around him. He knew all he could do was lead by example.

“We’re here. We’re within arm’s reach of the asshole that is trying to destroy our world. Let’s get this done!”

It was all he could think of to say. With that, he rushed for the nearest ramp and leapt out with fervour.

Jones looked around for some sense of bearing. He'd seen the blueprints provided by Aysen, but he still didn't recognise anything. He lifted his arm to study the info on his Mappad and try and get a sense of their location. Now they were inside the vessel, they weren't getting any live updates on their location, and he had to rely on traditional map reading skills.

"Where the hell are we, Sir?" asked Robinson.

He studied the map a little further.

"I have absolutely no idea."

He pinpointed their current location so that he could at least retrace the distance and direction, and then looked up to the room before them. His Company had taken up defensive positions. They were in a broad circular corridor system that curved around either way. It looked almost like an outer ring corridor system, but he already knew the ship featured concentric circuits throughout.

Jones' attention was immediately drawn to the ceiling as he noticed some movement above him. The roof looked organic and seemed to pulsate like veins. It was not like anything he had seen on a Krys ship before.

"What the hell is that?" asked Robinson.

"It doesn't matter right now," replied Jones.

He had to decide which way to go, but knew that until he had some point of reference, he had no idea which one. He set the countdown on his datapad; thirty minutes, it was all they could afford.

"That way," he pointed.

He went forward and led the way. They got just twenty metres before Mechs appeared ahead of them. Jones did not even break stride. He lifted up his shield and held out his rifle beside it, firing as he went forward. The others joined him, and they cut down three of the creatures with little effort. As they passed over the bodies, the ceiling expanded upwards to what looked like some kind of organic organ with seven outlet pipes feeding out to two corridors.

Jones looked at his map and immediately recognised where they were. It gave him new hope as he correlated it with information Aysen had given him.

"What are you looking for, Sir?" asked Robinson.

Jones didn't respond as he studied the map intently.

"Sir, I thought we were here to buy time and raise hell."

"And that's precisely what we're going to do, Corporal, and we're going to rescue a prisoner in the process."

"That's crazy," added Wood.

The Corporal looked to him for answers as he could see Wood knew to what Jones was referring.

"Sergeant Dubois, the Captains wife. She's being held on board apparently."

"What?" asked Robinson.

"It's true," Jones finally replied, "All evidence we have suggests she is on board. If we survive this, we're leaving the Solar system for good, and I am not leaving her here. I'm gonna do everything in my power to get her back, you got a problem with that?"

Robinson shook his head. "We're with you, Sir. Colonel Taylor saw to our families. Let's now see to yours."

He nodded in appreciation before turning and quickly moving on. "We've got to drop down a few floors. Let's go."

He headed for a ramp, but as they started to descend, Jones began to worry about how little resistance they had faced.

"Where are they?" he asked.

"Who, Sir?"

"The enemy. This is their capitol ship. You know how many thousands crew our flagships? Where the hell are all the crew and marines?"

"Guess we got lucky."

"No chance," he replied.

He hated to be cynical in front of his own people, but he didn't want them getting a false sense of security. They reached the level he was looking for, and as they took a bend, they found what he had been expecting, a wall of Mechs. They carried shields locked together and were advancing shoulder to shoulder the width of the corridor. Jones leapt back as a few pulses rushed towards him.

"Fuck!"

He pulled out a grenade and armed it before tossing it down the corridor. A flash rang out, and he peered around to see the Mech shields locked against the floor, and a blast before them that had done no damage besides burning the surface of the shields.

"We don't have time for this," he muttered.

He looked back at the almost one hundred men and women who lined the corridor and hung on to his every word.

"We're going at em. Keep up the fire, give them everything you got, and do not stop!"

He was confident they knew what to do. He threw another grenade around the corner and immediately stepped out and advanced towards the Mech position, once more locking their shields down to the ground. Robinson launched a second grenade with a good throwing arm. It soared over the shield line just as the first blew.

A second grenade followed it, and two explosions erupted from behind the enemy. One of the shields, and the creature carrying it, fell lifelessly forward and smashed into the burn marks on the deck. Jones opened fire immediately into the gap and kept going forward. The two lines were advancing relentlessly towards each other now, and gunfire did little as another creature filled the gap. They charged at one another like classical hoplites.

The Mechs stood almost a metre taller than Jones and his paras. As they closed, he leapt upwards, using the power of his suit and all his bodyweight to smash into the top of one of the shields, driving it into the creature’s face and causing him to roll over the shield and land amongst the creatures.

There was an immense clash as the ten-metre wide lines hammered into one another and ground to a halt. Jones landed on his feet between the Mechs but felt like a child amongst giants. One swung for him, but he ducked, and the creature's spear delved deep into a Mech behind. He noticed it passed through armour with little resistance, just as their Assegais did.

Down on one knee, he drove his Assegai into his attacker's upper leg, and then withdrew as it as the monster began to collapse towards him. He brushed it off with his shield and a quick turn and went onto the next. As he did, Robinson and two of his own smashed their way in to join him. The Mech shield line was broken, and many behind them were not equipped for close combat.

Jones drove forward and smashed one of the Mechs back until it compressed into those behind it and stopped them bringing their pulse cannons to bear. With his shield pressed high against the creature, he thrust his Assegai beneath it. He stabbed three times through its armour and kept pushing so that the dead body collapsed back against those behind it.

* * *

"Get going," said Taylor.

Jafar and Aysen were wearing the engineers’ suits they’d so recently acquired. The bodies of their former owners lay thrown aside behind them. They turned to leave, but Taylor grabbed Jafar again.

"You really know what to do, right?" he asked.

Jafar nodded.

"And our destination?"

"I have been entrusted with making that decision, which I will make alone, and no other shall know until we reach it."

"And you know somewhere worth going?

"Somewhere better than here."

It was good enough for Taylor. He let go of his friend.

"Then good luck."

"And to you," he replied.

They wandered off into the distance. He had no idea where they were going, or how they were going to achieve it, and that left him feeling helpless. He had gotten so used to being responsible for the success of a mission, and now he was little more than a decoy and protection squad. He looked around to his people, and just as Jones had been, was surprised at the lack of enemy presence.

"We’re here to cause some trouble, so let's get to it!" he roared.

He rushed onwards in the opposite direction to Jafar and Aysen. Within twenty metres, he could hear gunfire, and it was a welcome sound. The silence and emptiness they had first found made him suspicious, but now he could hear the fully automatic fire of Reitech rifles. He had no idea who was up ahead, only that they were allies. He had hoped it to be Jones, but as he turned a corner he found British troops. He didn't recognise a single one of them, but they welcomed his arrival. They ushered him onwards to an officer.

"Colonel Taylor," he said to introduce himself.

"Lieutenant Riley, Sir."

"Know how many others made it?"

"At least one of our Mastiffs was destroyed en route, not sure any more of our lot made it."

The British officer spoke so matter-of-factly, as if it were no problem at all.

"You hold here. We're continuing further inwards."

"We haven't got long," he insisted.

"No, but we need to appear to making some determined effort as to not arise suspicions. I am going for Erdogan, and if I stand a single chance of finishing him, I will."

"Nail the bastard," he replied.

Taylor went onwards past the firefight into an open hallway beyond. He had to rush through enemy fire, with his shield held beside him, and hope for the best. They carried on. Parker stayed close beside him all the way. He was running now with a newfound determination. Far from being scared of Erdogan, he sought him out relentlessly.

"Taylor slow down!" Parker shouted.

But he would not listen.

Let's end this now, you fucker,
he thought.

After several hundred metres, he stopped on seeing a gleaming light ahead, and the silhouette of Erdogan. He was in a room at the end of the corridor they were in, fifty metres ahead. He stopped and stared at the enemy leader for just a moment, wondering if it really was him.

 
Or is it another hologram?

He raised his rifle and fired a quick shot. The round struck his armour and ricocheted off. He had not made any attempt to avoid the impact and stood defiantly before them.

"What are you waiting for, Taylor?" Erdogan boomed.

The voice carried down the length of the corridor, all the way to the British Company, and it sent shivers down many spines. It was a powerful voice, and no one was left in any doubts that Erdogan was every bit as terrifying as they had feared.

Taylor felt nothing but a burning desire to stick his Assegai in Erdogan’s head. He leapt forward and rushed down the corridor at a sprinting pace.

"No!" Parker screamed.

She ran after him, but he had already gained a good few metres on her. The rest of the Company ran on with her, spurred on by Taylor's battle cry as he stormed onwards. Erdogan did not flinch or make any attempt to move. Taylor dropped his rifle and let it sling by his side as he drew out his Assegai.

This is it. This is my chance,
he told himself.

"Wait!" Parker shouted.

He did not slow a single pace and rushed through into the room with Erdogan. As he did, the door behind him sealed shut, and he heard Parker and several others slam into it. He ground to a halt and looked around. It was a translucent barricade that had brought his colleagues to a standstill. He quickly looked back to Erdogan and could see the wicked and terrifying grin on his face.

He seemed to stand just a little taller than Demiran had. His armour was almost form fitting over a tall and muscular physique, and a dark red, almost black cloak stretched down to his feet. His head was completely exposed, and his armour enshrined with so many gleaming jewels and Krys symbols that he looked more like a ceremonial toy soldier than anything real.

For all of the minimalist and plain armour design of the Mech battle suits, it always amazed him how wildly different their leaders looked. It was as if they were kept at opposite ends of a scale in every sense of the word, just to underline the power balance. Taylor wondered for a moment if Erdogan was just a politician and not a warrior at all. He certainly looked more fantastical than anything he had seen before.

"I told you this day was coming, and yet you seek your death sooner than I had imagined," Erdogan stated calmly.

"I am going to kill you, and I don't see why I should be made to wait."

Taylor looked around the room for any sign of other opponents, but there were none. A large throne of steel lay at the far end of the room, and despite the fact he could see two other entrances, there was no sign of other life in sight. The ceilings were several metres high, and the roof decorated with art. He could make out Mech figures fighting several types of figures that he did not recognise. He could only imagine they were murals of some kind depicting Erdogan's great victories.