Battle Earth VIII (Book 8) (18 page)

"Folly," the alien simply replied.

They could both see Jafar didn't comprehend what they were trying to accomplish. They could hear a few mumblings from down the corridor, and Taylor's name being bandied around. Jones was hopeful until a voice shouted back, "Colonel Taylor, you are ordered to lay down your weapons and come out with your hands up!"

Jones shook his head. He knew it was too much to ask for. Without another word, he drew a flashbang from his armour, primed it, and launched it down the corridor. Before it had even ignited, he leapt out into the corridor, using his shield to protect him from both the grenade and any gunfire. He sprinted down the corridor at them with Jafar close behind.

As the grenade ignited, he could see the marines were Reitech equipped, with near enough everything he currently carried except for the shield, and it made all the difference. He held it before him, using the helmet targeter to kill one after the other as they scrambled for cover. Shots rushed past him from either side, as others of the platoon flanked the two of them and kept up the pace.

They had covered half the distance when they saw the last three marines throw down their weapons.

"Cease fire!" Jones screamed.

Even Jafar did exactly as ordered. Jones realised that he was utterly loyal. He just didn't understand the concept of letting enemies live.

“What do we do with them?” Parker asked.

“They’ll only come back to bite us in the ass,” replied Herrera.

Jones paced up to the three marines. They looked terrified, as if they’d never fought a real battle in their lives. He couldn’t bring himself to kill them but knew restraining them could lead to them quickly being freed. Imprisonment made him feel sick to the stomach, and he had no idea where they could do it anyway. He pulled off the helmet of the nearest one and then drew out his pistol, reversing it so the grip was forward.

“Either you take the pain, or you let him end you now,” he said and pointed to Jafar. The marine looked at the towering alien and then turned back to Jones and nodded in agreement. Jones smacked him across the head with his pistol, knocking him unconscious immediately. Parker and Herrera did the same for the other two. They knew it risked serious injury, but it was better than execution.

 
Jones carried on until he suddenly stopped at a radiation warning sign. He looked down at his Mappad and smiled when he could see where they were.

"We're not far now."

As he said it, they heard all the systems in the ship power up.

Shit,
thought Jones.

"Let's move!"

He rushed onwards, knowing their presence and location would be common knowledge, and the camera recordings from when they first boarded would soon be relayed to the bridge.

Once they think Taylor is aboard, all hell is going to break loose.

As they took a bend up ahead, they were met with gunfire from half a dozen marines dug in where they were heading. Jones didn't even flinch when the first shots hit his shield, and he kept up the pace towards them.

Thank God they haven't got shields.

The weight of gunfire was too much for his, and it buckled over his arm. He knew it could only take another shot or two and it was done for. He increased to a sprinting pace and rushed at the defenders. They looked terrified by their unflinching aggression.

With one swing, Jones' shield passed over a support joist a marine was using for cover. He smashed the edge of his shield into the man's head, snapping his neck with the impact. It sent Jones into a spin. As he recovered, he fired a burst into one of the other's faces, just as Jafar and Parker reached his position still firing. Jones drew out his Assegai and turned to face another, but was too late. An Assegai of one of the enemy marines drove through the breastplate of his armour and into his flank. The pain forced him to release the grip of his weapon, but he soon recovered. He grabbed the marine's helmet and quickly snapped his neck.

Jones reached down to the Assegai and pulled it out while facing away from the others. The helmet at least hid his gritted teeth and pain from them. The Assegai had his blood on it, but he holstered it as his before turning to the others. Parker immediately noticed the hole in his armour.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Come on, we're running out of time!"

He didn't feel fine at all. Even the burning hot Assegai had not completely sealed the wound, and he could feel the clamminess of his own blood expanding within his uniform. He knew he couldn't hide the wound from the others for long, but it didn't matter to him in that moment. He looked back at his Mappad; they were just a short distance away.

A broad corridor-width blast door lay ahead of them. As they approached, it opened to bring a shocking sight that brought them to an instant halt. More than twenty enemy marines had deployed hard defences across the corridor width and were set up with heavy weapons. Jones no longer had his shield, like many others in his unit. Their hasty rush for the target had cost them assets, which now they regretted. They might as well have been standing in front of a firing squad.

"Lay down your weapons!" one of the enemy officers cried.

It was a line Jones was getting all too bored of hearing. Everyone wanted Taylor alive.
You would have thought they would have learned by now?

"What do you want to do?" Parker asked quietly.

Jones looked back and could see there was no cover at all.

"We can't give up, or it was all for nothing," said Herrera.

"And if we die here and now, is it any better?" asked Parker.

"Put your fucking weapons down!"

"We surrender we are dead anyway. We rush them, and some of us might live. You know what to do," said Jones.

They knew he'd say that, but none wanted to hear it.

"Ready on my go."

He looked back to the gun line and knew it would probably be the last thing he ever saw. "Why on earth do I volunteer for this shit?" he grumbled, which brought a few smiles from the others.

"Now!"

Jones leapt forward, but as he readied his rifle to fire, the line up ahead lit up with gun flashes. Jones expected to die any second as he rushed forward, but then through the muzzle flashes he could see it was not them firing, but their position being hit by a volley of fire from behind. A few of the marines tried to turn back but were cut down with no protection at all from their defences.

The platoon reached the line to find it was utterly devastated, and there stood Silva and his platoon. Silva's faceplate was up, and he looked more than a little pleased with himself.

"Damn that's some fine timing, Sergeant Major," said Jones sternly.

"Always."

Taylor’s breathing was slow and he appeared calm while watching them pass the vast hull of the Nassau. He had to keep telling himself to breathe. They were passing so close to the battleship they could see the gunports, which was more than a little disconcerting. He was standing over the pilot and realised he didn’t even know his name, despite knowing his face well. He couldn’t see his nametag from where he stood either.

“How long till those systems recover?” Taylor asked.

“Not long now.”

That’s a big help,
he thought. Though he knew the pilot wouldn’t have any better idea than he did. They reached the far side of the hull and passed on out into the blackness once more. As they did so, the defence grid was revealed to them. It was a vast complex and many kilometres wide. It looked like a chain of ships orbiting the planet, which it effectively was.

"Nobody thought EMP shielding on the grid would be a good idea?" asked the pilot.

"It has backup systems as protection, but nothing like the Nassau. It's expensive kit that nobody wanted to pay for."

"Serious?”

It was the rumour he had heard, and it made as much sense as anything else, so he simply agreed, although fully aware that was exactly the way ridiculous scuttlebutt spread, but it at least brought a small smile to his face to know for once he was the one perpetuating such rumours.

“The other two still with us?” asked Taylor.

“Affirmative.”

“All right, bring us in slow, as little power as you can manage.”

Taylor saw just a small amount of light from the side of the cockpit from one of the other ship’s engines firing up.

“That’s not good,” said the pilot.

Taylor turned to look ahead and saw a frigate float into their path.

“We’re on a collision course unless we do something. Too much power, and we’ll easily be spotted with the amount of light we’ll put out.”

“Just do what you can.”

The pilot made just a few adjustments as they soared towards the warship.

“I hope this is gonna be enough.”

A bright light flashed beside them, as one of the pilots reacted more vigorously to take evasive manoeuvres.

“Idiot,” said the pilot.

They both knew the other pilot had gone too far, but there was nothing they could do about it now. It was every crew for themselves. They watched the nose of their ship passed within a few metres of the top deck of the frigate. Taylor waited for the sound of impact any second, but they had made it past. Just as he thought they had got through without a hitch, he heard the last thing he wanted to.

“We got a problem.”

Taylor looked down at the console but didn’t know what he was looking at.

“The Nassau’s systems have fully recovered. We…” A bright flash cut him off, and the ship with them that had taken evasive manoeuvres exploded. Taylor looked out. There was nothing left bar some debris floating about space. He dipped and shook his head.

Twenty-five souls lost, many of them members of Inter-Allied who have served with us for years.

The thought made him sick to the stomach, but the pilot interrupted his thought process.

“They’re tracking us. Almost got a lock…”

“What? I thought you were flying under the radar?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Colonel. We’ve been had.”

“Full power now, evasive action!”

The pilot hesitated after what had happened to the other ship.

“Look, we either sit here and die, or we take our chances!”

The pilot quickly reacted this time and put full power to the engines. There was another frigate up ahead, and they were sticking to it like glue.

“They’ve got a lock on us. This is gonna be close!”

Taylor felt helpless, knowing they were all in the hands of the one pilot and luck now. A flash of light zoomed past them, and they knew it was a shot from the Nassau that would have ended them.

“Almost there,” whispered the pilot.

Their ship rushed over the frigate, and the pilot quickly brought them to a standstill behind the cover of the powerless ship.

“What are you doing?” asked Taylor.

“We can’t go back out there. We’ll never make it.”

“We can’t wait here, or it was all for nothing.”

“And is us all dying for nothing worth something?”

Taylor couldn’t help but agree, but they desperately needed to do something. He looked down at his watch and at how little time they had left to complete their mission. There were no options left, and in that instance, he drew his pistol and put it to the pilot's head.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Taylor was utterly calm as he responded.

“Full power, get us to our target now!”

“You’ll kill us all.”

“Either go now and maybe survive, or I’ll shoot you down and figure it out myself.”

He was getting desperate, and it started to look that he may well actually shoot the man. That was enough to convince the pilot.

“You’re insane,” he said, putting the power down, and they soared forward. Gunfire rushed past them, and then a red warning light flashed in the cockpit.

“Incoming missiles, deploying countermeasures. Our luck won’t hold forever, Colonel!”

As he said it, everything went quiet, and the shots stopped. They both looked at the viewing screen displaying the Nassau with utter shock.

“He’s done it. Jones has done it,” said Taylor.

He knew it was the only reason the firing would stop. As he said it, they saw a burning ship pass them at speed and barrelling out of control. Troops were bailing out from the rear door. He knew it was Captain Grey’s ship. He was amazed they had made it at all.

“Good luck to you,” he muttered.

“Poor bastards,” added the pilot.

“Poor? They’re alive, aren’t they? They’ll reach the station, no problem. It's us you should be worried about. We’re on our own now,” said Taylor, as he holstered his pistol. “Take us in as planned, and then get yourself a rifle. You’re coming with us.”

All the army pilots had been training for infantry combat, but none of them ever expected to physically be involved in it. The pilot looked horrified.

“You just flew through hell, and you’re okay with that, but getting your boots on the ground scares you?”

“You shoot, I fly. It’s the way I like to keep it.”

“Well, tough shit. Today you are whatever I need you to be.”

Taylor was ever bit as terrified as the pilot, but he’d never show it.

“You really expecting me to take up a rifle?”

“Bet your ass, I need every fighter I can get.”

He looked back, expecting to see Jafar close in behind in support, forgetting he was with Jones. For all the time he had grown to hate the aliens, it now felt strange to go into combat without one.

“Nassau is launching fighters and transports,” said the pilot.

“It’s fine. They can’t stop us now.”

They were coming in for their final descent to the defence grid. It was an intimidating sight to fly past lines of railguns and other weaponry. A single salvo from any one of the towers would end them before they could even see it coming. Knowing they were disabled didn’t calm their nerves an awful lot. Just twenty seconds later, they made their landing on one of the maintenance doors as planned.

“Good work,” said Taylor, holding out his hand in friendship to the pilot he had so recently held a gun too.

“Spears,” replied the pilot. “Lieutenant Spears.”

He wished they would all live long enough that it was worth knowing the man’s name. The ship had come to a halt, but nobody made a move. He wasn’t sure if they were waiting for his order or if they were afraid.

“We’re almost there, almost through. The World is looking to us. Just the few of us, so let’s not let them down. You’ve held true for Jones all these years, will you now follow me to victory?”

Many of them nodded, but there was no roar of excitement and approval, as he would have expected of his marines. Jones’ men were disciplined like no others and their cool silence laconic.

“Open the door, prepare to breach,” he ordered.

They leapt into action and clamped the charges onto the doors of the maintenance bay.

“Fire when ready.”

The shaped charges made a short and controlled blast that had almost no echo at all. Taylor looked in through the breach, half expecting to be met by a gun line, but the entrance was clear. He stepped inside and found the emergency lighting was already on. It struck him as suspicious, for he did not expect any systems to be operational anytime soon.

“How the hell have they got power?”

He turned to see nobody gave a response. They had no better idea than he. He didn’t know whether to be glad they had made it safely, or terrified they were stepping into something they couldn’t handle. Either way there was no choice in the matter now. He carried on through the corridor until they came out near a bank of massive capacitors. He could only imagine they were a part of the power systems of the weaponry they passed on the way in.

The room was opening up, and the ceilings were now ten metres high. It was nothing like a ship he’d ever been on. It was more like a power station back on Earth. Two metre-wide cylinders reached up from the floor to the ceiling like rows of columns, but none of it meant anything to the Colonel, other than as a marker he recognised from the research he had done en route.

“Freeze! Colonel Jones of the Inter-Allied Regiment, you are under arrest! Lay down your weapons, and no harm will come to you!”

Taylor couldn’t tell where the call had come from, but he jumped to the nearest column for cover as he tried to find the source. It was at least a little relief they didn’t know his true identity.

“Someone ran us into a trap,” said Herbert.

“Maybe, but they were always gonna be protecting this place.”

There was total silence for a moment, and they looked around for some sign of an enemy presence.

“Lay down your weapons, and this will end without bloodshed!”

Then Taylor noticed it was coming from a tannoy system in one corner.

“They’ve got us on camera. Damn! We’re gonna have a shit load of trouble coming down on us real soon.”

He expected a response from those with him, but then he forgot they were British, and they waited for his command. He looked around for the cameras which were giving away their position, but they were clearly too small and well hidden, but he also knew the defence platform was vast enough that they could only cover so many areas.

“Let’s move now!”

Taylor jumped out into a quick pace hoping he was right. No gunshots ensued, and he knew he must be. They passed on into a room full of yet more hardware that meant nothing to him. Taylor knew exactly what he was looking for, and that was all that mattered.

They knew they were running on borrowed time, but none of them expected to be caught up with so soon when they heard a string of gunshots up ahead. They were forced to duck for any cover they could find. Shots zipped past Taylor’s head, and he tried to get a fix on how many they were facing. He could already count a dozen rifles being fired ahead of them. He looked to Harris who was up against the pillar beside him.

“Any good ideas, Corporal?”

Harris shook his head. “No way around them, Sir. We’ll have to go through them.”

That's not what I wanted to hear, but what choice do we have?

Taylor drew out a flashbang from his armour and held it for just a second while he gave out his orders through their comms. “Flash, then forward.” It was simple, but he knew they would understand exactly what he meant. He threw out the grenade, and the vast room was lit up with a blinding glow. He knew many of their attackers would have had time to get to cover, but it was better than nothing. He leapt out with his shield held before him and rushed forward.