Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (17 page)

There was nothing left to say now as they raced towards the silhouette of the Nassau. It was a vast ship that was part battleship and part carrier. There were still no lights visible, but they could see the outlines of a few support vessels floating in space between them.

“Cut all lights, and do whatever you can to avoid detection.”

“Already done, boss,” Eddie replied.

“Cut engines now, everything.”

Rains did so without question, and everything went silent as they soared through space towards the hulking vessel without any noise at all, until Rains broke the silence.

“Really think this can work?” he whispered, seemingly concerned the whole enemy fleet could be listening in.

“Why wouldn’t it?” replied Jones.

“I dunno. Few fools try and take on a fucking battleship, you don’t think that’s a little crazy?”

“It is ambitious.”

Rains chuckled for a moment before the seriousness of his situation silenced him.

“What the hell is that?” asked Jones.

Rains squinted at the space before them. Lights began to appear on the Nassau, and then he saw the light reflect and reveal a small vessel on the path ahead of them. Rains grabbed for the controls to manoeuvre, but he knew they had no power.

“We can’t risk it,” said Jones.

“We don’t put some power down, then we’ll be done for anyway.”

Jones thought about it for just a few seconds before replying. “All right, but the absolute minimum needed to get clear.”

Rains fired the landing boosters to alter their course, but even as he did so, he could see they weren’t going to make it.

“This is gonna be rough.”

“More power!” Jones shouted.

“Too late! Hold on!”

They slammed into the ship that appeared to be a small frigate without power. The impact rocked them hard, and Jones almost fell to his feet. He tried to hang on to a railing. Jones expected the ship to crumble and break apart any moment, but amazingly they were thrown into a spin.

“What the hell, Rains?” he shouted.

“I’m a pilot not a miracle worker!”

“Get us power!”

“I can’t. The engines are shot!”

They were barrelling out of control, and the only relief they had was that they would blend in with all the other craft floating about space.

"Tell me something, Rains!"

"I got no engines. Life support systems are failing."

"Can you get us to the Nassau?"

He looked out to see them approaching rapidly.

"It's not a question of reaching them, but not dying on impact!"

He was frantically trying anything he could to slow them down when he finally managed to fire a few landing thrusters. Jones could see the light they were emitting from the cockpit, but they had larger problems to worry about now.

"We're losing velocity, but not quick enough."

"Any ideas?"

Rains shook his head. "This bird ain't got nothing left to give!"

"If we jump now, let the ship make impact, and then use our own boosters to reduce velocity and make the breach, would that work?"

Rains mulled it over for just two seconds before finally shrugging. "Maybe, best chance we got at least!"

Jones rushed to the door, hit the emergency release, and ripped it open.

"Everyone follow me. Get your speed down quick and head for the breach!"

He jumped out and just had to hope the others would quickly follow. As he entered space, he could see lights firing up all along the hull of the Nassau, and it was a frightening sight to be in her gun line. He hit his boosters and was relieved to see the instant reduction in velocity, and the other couple of dozen troops joined him. Their ship soared past them. It had recovered from its spin but was still racing for the battleship.

Jones could just make out the shape of Taylor's three craft passing close by the stern of the vessel and knew they were cutting it close. He turned back to their own ship and saw it crash into the side of the battleship. Half of the hull smashed over the thick armour; the rest pierced through and punched a hole several metres wide.

We're in business.

He turned to his side to see Rains join him and give him the thumbs up. The times Rains had ended up with them in shoulder-to-shoulder combat now were beyond counting and getting a little silly. As they got to twenty metres, Jones adjusted his positioning and looked around one last time to try and see the two other ships with him, but they were nowhere to be seen.
We're on our own,
he thought.

Jones tucked in his rifle and shield as close to his body as possible, and they raced for the breach at a speed that was still far faster than he would have liked. He burst through the breach and found the blast doors had already isolated the room. He hit the deck hard and slid twenty metres along the metal flooring, finally crashing into a thick bulkhead and coming to a halt.

He had to hope his suit was fully intact. As he got to his feet, he half expected to come under fire any moment, but it never came. He looked around to see they were inside a fighter maintenance bay, and there was no one to be seen but the twenty-five souls including himself who had breached the hull of the Nassau. Emergency lighting was on, and it was a sign of how quick the ship's systems were recovering. For all the danger they had just jumped into, all Jones could think was,
I hope Taylor made it.

"We need to get out of this area now!" he ordered.

Rains was already at a small maintenance door fiddling with something, as Parker tried to find a way past the large blast doors which seemed to be the main way out. Within a few seconds, Rains had the door open and prised apart.

"How in the hell did you do that?" asked Herrera.

"You think this is the first time I've had to break out of somewhere?"

"All right, go, go," said Jones.

He looked down at the Mappad on his arm, trying to work out where they were, but he had no real time information, only the static map he had to interpret himself. There were dozens of fighter bays aboard, and he was desperately trying to look for where the room might be that they had landed in. The last of the group were through with just Rains waiting to shut the door behind him.

"Where will this take us?"

Rains shrugged. "No idea, but it's the only way we'll get out without blowing the place to hell."

Jones knew it was the best option too, but he wished he had even some clue as to where they were. He remembered they had entered at the port side of the vessel, but they could be anywhere within a few dozen floors. The line came to a halt as they waited for Jones to reach the front and make a decision. He pushed on past and saw they had reached a crossroads in what was some kind of maintenance shaft only. He didn't even hesitate to carry on over and led them deeper on into the ship.

"Know where you're going?" whispered Rains.

"No better than you do."

"Great," he mumbled.

"You just remember when we get out there that I am Colonel Taylor, and you make it loud and clear for all to hear. Pass it on," replied Jones.

The whisper carried back down the corridor as Jones reached a doorway. He looked back and signalled for Rains to come forward. The Lieutenant pulled a control box from the wall, and after fiddling for thirty seconds, the door finally slid open. They all raised their rifles as they realised they were entering one of the main decks of the ship. It was still on emergency lighting, but as Jones took the first step out, the main lights fired up. He jumped to the opposing wall for cover.

He'd half expected an ambush, but as the lights settled, he could see three German marines at one side, looking confused and staring at them.

"Taylor, get down!" Rains shouted, just as he had been told to.

As the name rang out, the enemy marines began to raise their rifles, but Jones was already firing. The first one was struck down, and the other two jumped for cover.

"Forward!"

Jones pushed his shield out before him and advanced as a gun line, with the others laying down fire. The injured marine was clipped again in the same arm, and his comrade dragged him back.

"Colonel Taylor!" Parker called out.

Jones looked around to see Eli was doing everything she could to make his name travel the length of the corridor. He looked up and saw a domed camera module in one corner of the corridor. He strode up to it and stood square on in plain view for whoever was watching to see his rank and name tag before raising his rifle and blowing it to bits.

"Think that worked?"

"We can hope, Parker," he replied, looking at his Mappad. Then he noticed a sign on the wall. They were on deck 1H7.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He had the blueprint, but without any indicator as to how the actual floor names related to anything they were looking at.

"Silva, come in," he said through his communicator.

No response came.

"They must be jamming all frequencies. We probably haven't got more than ten metres range on comms."

"Then we're alone," replied Parker.

"Plan stays the same, and we cause as much trouble along the way as we can."

He looked at the Mappad once again, took his best guess at where they might be, and carried on the direction of the marines they had been fighting. They reached the body of the fallen marine, and all Jones could think was why?
He looked like them and had probably fought beside them in the last war.

"Why are they fighting us?" he said when he meant to just think it.

Parker grabbed his arm and stopped him for a moment.

"You okay?"

He couldn't see her face through the clouded visor, but he could hear the concern in her voice. It all seemed so senseless to him, more so than the wars they had fought through previously, but he knew he had to keep it together.

"Silva will find our target. You can be sure of that," she claimed to reassure him.

It was true. The Sergeant Major wouldn't quit until he was dead. Jones continued on without another word as they made their way deeper into the ship. Barely a minute later, they reached a crew quarters that had just two occupants, desperately trying to pull on their armour. Parker leaned in and shot both of them through the legs.

Jafar passed by and stopped for a moment. He seemed surprised at the sight. For a moment, Jones thought from his body language that he was shocked at the brutality against their own race, but instead he raised his rifle to finish the job.

"No!" screamed Jones.

It was too late. Gunfire tore through the two injured crewmembers. Jafar turned to him and raised the visor off his helmet with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Never leave an enemy combatant still combat effective to any degree," he stated.

Jones knew he was right, but it still didn't feel right. He turned and carried on at the head of the column. They took a bend, and Jones was met with a burst of gunfire ricocheting off his shield. Parker yanked him back into cover.

"Lay down your weapons!" a voice cried.

Jones looked back at Parker.

"Reason with them. Tell them who you are."

Jones had no idea if it would work or for which reason she was suggesting it, but it was worth a shot.

"This is Colonel Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment, European Alliance! Right now, the UEN is preparing to fire the Earth defence grid against targets on the ground, military and civilian, that will change the face of this world forever! You must know that is wrong. Join us, or lay down your weapons, and let us pass!"

Silence ensued, and he looked back at Parker for an opinion. "How was that?" Jones was no negotiator, and he felt more than a little uneasy trying to be one while simultaneously acting as Taylor.

"Little straight, but yes, I think it did the job."

He looked to Jafar who only shook his head.