Beyond Earth- Civil War

by Nick S. Thomas

  A few of them smiled, but there were no laughs. If Taylor had respect for a man, the rest of them did, too.

  "Question is, does he have the balls to fight, Colonel?" asked Mai.

  She was a slender Vietnamese woman and looked as tough as nails. She never said much.

  "We'll see, won't we?"

  "Too many rookies about these days," said Cal.

  "Do you have any other mood than jittery?" Weber asked.

  Mai punched him hard, enough that he stumbled a few paces.

  "Your squad, they must have known each other for years, are they always like this?"

  "Yes, if you can't have a little fun every day, what is the point in it all? Those who serve under me get that. So next time you get ribbed for having slept with an officer, know that it is meant in the best of ways."

  The elevator finally came to a stop, and Taylor took a deep breath, knowing it was about to kick off.

  "We don't know what we're going to find out there, so stay sharp. But remember, these are our people. Civilians. No itchy trigger fingers. We are here to secure the release of the Mayor, and restore him to office, that is all. You all know the rules of engagement. Let's get in there smooth and quick, and back out just as smoothly."

  They were all anxious as he hit the door release, but all they found was an empty corridor. Not a sign of life in sight.

  "That's a good start." Taylor led them forward. There was no organisation to the squads. No orders had been given. It was Newman's first taste of how lax Taylor was when on operations. He didn't like it, but he had to trust in the Colonel. He was in charge, and his long history certainly spoke volumes.

  They were all jumpy, but Newman also felt a little sick. They were taking in guns against their own people. The prospect of having to fight a Human for real was something entirely alien to him, and to all in his squad. Even the Sergeant had never fought his own people, only those who looked like them. Twisted and warped in the mind so that they fought for Bolormaa. So many emotions and thoughts were flooding through Lee's mind. He wondered if he'd have to shoot at people, at citizens. Worse still, would he have to shoot unarmed citizens? It went against every moral and code that he had. At the same time, he knew he was thinking it through too much. He'd been taught to focus on the mission, and he was trying, but was difficult.

  "So you jumped into bed with the Lieutenant pretty quick. Looking for promotion?"

  It hit him out of the blue, but he saw Olsen by his side. She looked angry, but was trying to hide it.

  "What, no, no."

  "No, you aren't trying to sleep to the top, or no you didn't jump into bed with the Lieutenant?"

  He groaned, knowing there was no way out of this.

  "Look, it's complicated, okay. More than you know."

  "I bet it is. Who's in charge in the bedroom, does the chain of command apply?"

  He sighed.

  "It's okay. I'm just screwing with you."

  She was smiling, but he could see there was more to it than that. He wanted to say something, but he couldn't. More than anything, his word meant something to him. He had promised to be silent, and he would have to stick to the sham story Sommer had concocted. It was painful, but he would have to weather the storm.

  They took a turn and came out into a large tunnel where people were sleeping on both sides. Some had frame beds. Others were on the floor. Some were awake and watched their every move as they carried on through.

  "What is this?" Cal asked.

  "The way some have to live now. These shelters were never designed to support this many people," replied Menard.

  "This is no way to live."

  "You're telling me. Why do you think I extended my term? I'm not coming back to this."

  "You stayed in the Corps for the accommodation?"

  "It may not seem much, Benik, but we have it good compared to many. Depending on how rich you were going into this. If you could afford an apartment down here, you will live like a king."

  "This is where I grew up." Newman looked around and recognised so much of it.

  "Yeah, good times," added Olsen cynically.

  "Right here?" Cal asked.

  "Well, not Nova Scotia, but it might as well have been. It looked the same."

  The people who were awake looked at them with surprise, amazement, and a little suspicion. But they did not say a word. They looked stunned, as though they were only half awake.

  "Is it nighttime down here?" Babacan asked.

  "They don't have night and day. They have rotations."

  "How does that work?" Lieutenant Sommer asked.

  That is when it dawned on the newest recruits. Taylor and his squad had never really experienced Earth since it fell to Bolormaa's weapon.

  "Too many people, and too few beds, you see. Everyone works on a rotation so that the beds are always full, or whatever is available to sleep in."

  "And the factories and farms are always working," added Olsen.

  "No wonder they rebelled. You call this an existence?" Mai commented.

  Taylor found it hard to disagree. He had no idea how bad it had gotten. Most of the people looked homeless, despite having a roof over their heads. They were dirty, dishevelled, and exhausted. They looked like they'd been hiding in a bomb shelter for years on end. Taylor realised that is what it was.

  "We've got to do something about this."

  "Haven't we been trying?"

  "Not hard enough, Sommer."

  There was such sincerity in Taylor's voice that nobody doubted him, although they had no answers as to how they could do any more than they were already doing. They continued on through the colony and up a ramp to another level. They heard yelling and screaming. Two shots followed, and Taylor picked up the pace. They could see a group of five civilians beating someone on the ground. Taylor fired two shots into the air.

  "Get away, now!"

  His booming voice carried and echoed in such an intimidating way that they froze. But they soon scurried off before he could reach them. They found a bruised and bloodied police officer on the floor. She reached for her gun and got back up. Her nose looked broken, and she looked broken emotionally, too.

  "Thanks."

  She holstered her weapon and tried to leave. But Taylor grabbed her arm and hauled her back.

  "Hang on, what the hell is going on here?"

  "What does it look like? We've lost control."

  "We're here to help."

  She looked past him to the modest number he had brought with him.

  "With what army?"

  "Don't you know who this is?" Sommer asked.

  "Should I?"

  "Colonel Taylor, and we're here to help."

  "Really? Is that supposed to mean something?"

  "You don't know who Colonel Taylor is?"

  "Sure I know. You're a big war hero. Great, but what does that mean to us? This place has gone to hell. The lunatics have taken over the asylum, and quite honestly, I don't even know how to tell who are the sane ones anymore."

  "Your Mayor has been taken hostage. We are here to free him and restore order."

  "Yeah? Well, good luck with that. We already tried."

  "Do you know where he is being held?"

  "Sure. It's no secret."

  "Where?"

  "At Council Hall. Those who have taken over are in charge now, if you can call it that."

  "I don't get it. How the hell did things get this bad?"

  "People have lost hope, and lost faith. Talk to the average citizen down here, and they don't even know what is worth living for anymore. We are overcrowded, overworked. We have little prospects to look forward to. I don't know why I even wear this uniform anymore."

  "Because you care, or you'd have thrown it off already."

  "Yeah, yeah, I care. But what good is that?"

  Taylor just couldn't believe it. He was stunned. Newman stepped up to see if he could help.

  "Listen, we really are here to help. The Colonel her
e can perform miracles. You have to believe that. I don't know what has gone on, but I am here to help, as are everyone that we have brought. We want to sort this. Fix it. That starts with sorting this ridiculous hostage scenario. We need someone to help us. We have maps of this area, but none of us know it. Will you lead us?"

  "To do what? What will you do?"

  "Whatever we have to do. No matter what people think about the way this situation and the Alliance is being managed, there must be order."

  Taylor was amazed by what he was saying. He'd expected to make a case himself, and yet a newly fledged Corporal was doing it for him.

  "I can lead you there, but what then? Will you see this through, or will you do the bare minimum and then leave us again?"

  Taylor knew he had to interject himself.

  "I cannot stay here, because there is so much to be done. More than you know."

  She scoffed.

  "I don't mean to put down what you do, only that my duties extend far beyond this world."

  "Why are you really here?" She sounded as if she were testing him.

  "Because the thing I care about more than anything is this world. I was born on it when the fields were still green. The sky was blue, and we could walk through the streets. That is the world I fought for. I fought for it with everything I had, twice. And I am sorry that I failed. Sorry that I could not save the world I was born in to. But I am determined to put it back to the way it was. I don't care whether it takes my lifetime, or another ten generations after me, but I will make it happen."

  "It was a glimpse into Taylor's mind few of them ever saw, and a sincerity that could not be doubted. Everyone there knew he was speaking the truth, even the police officer that had never met him.

  "We need hope, more than anything we need hope. To know that things aren't always going to be this bad," she said, as if feeling compelled to share after he had.

  "Then help me. Help me, and I will help this world."

  "Sanchez," she said, holding out her hand to Taylor.

  He took it gladly.

  "Nice to meet you."

  She drew her pistol as if ready for a fight.

  "I didn't start this fight, and I never wanted it, but I will see an end to it. I told my Captain that we had to put a stop to this rebellion, and he would not listen."

  "But I will. I know what has to be done."

  "Follow me, Colonel."

  She led them on for over thirty minutes, winding through multiple rooms and corridors. Many who they met were suspicious, but she calmed them as they passed through, and it provided the path they needed.

  "You think Taylor really means all that?" Olsen asked Newman.

  "I do."

  "How can you be so sure?"

  "He is a man with complete conviction in what he does. You’ve seen him. I'm not saying he always makes the best call, but he believes in what he is doing. He puts the lives of everyone before his. He puts the existence of our people before his own. It is like nothing I have ever seen."

  "But why? What has he got to live for? Has he not lost the love of his life?"

  "More than once, and yet, here he is. He fights for us, for all of us."

  "Why?"

  "Because to him, we are his brothers."

  "And you think that means anything anymore?"

  "Maybe not elsewhere, but here, yes I do. I believe he would risk everything for one of us."

  "For a rookie?"

  "Yes, for any one of us in his unit. He is like no officer I have ever known."

  "You better believe it," added Menard.

  "Really?"

  "Taylor would fight through hell for anyone who is willing to do the same for him. I saw it with my own eyes. The only thing I don't understand is how he is even still alive. It is a miracle."

  "They say he is a prophecy."

  "He has always called bullshit on that, but we have to wonder. How can he have done all he has done? How could one man survive all that? How could he have the strength?"

  "Because he believes."

  "You need more than belief to survive a war, Sergeant."

  "But it goes a long way, doesn't it? He believes in himself and everyone around him."

  It wasn't long before they were passing through the wounded that had resulted from the revolt. Wounded civilians and militia littered the corridors and rooms. Few were receiving medical treatment. It felt like a disaster zone. Newman felt terrible for the people there. So many were in dire need of help, and he thought back to his years as a child in the war. He was so accustomed to seeing suffering, but he never imagined that it would persist into peacetime.

  "This is what we are fighting for."

  The sincerity in Olsen’s voice was biting. She had seen and lived through all he had. Tears were coming to her eyes, and she tried to hide it. She was one of the toughest people he knew, but it was just too much. Many were holding their hands out asking for help, but they could not stop to give it. They had to stay on task, just as Taylor had told them so many times.

  It wasn't long before they were at the entrance to the Council Hall. Taylor brought them to a halt as he spotted several men on guard out front. They were civilians, but carried rifles they had taken from the militia. Sanchez moved up beside him to see for herself.

  "You see; you can't get in there."

  They had a narrow corridor to cover and were well armed, but that didn't bother Taylor.

  "Is there any other way in?"

  "There are two side doors, but they have been barricaded. We tried a direct attack, and we lost three officers."

  "Three dead?"

  "And several more wounded, yes."

  Taylor was shaking his head as she explained. It was far worse than he had realised. In this moment he knew he had ignored what was going on with the citizens on Earth for too long, and Newman could see it on his face. They had spent so long worrying about restoring the planet, they had forgotten about those still living there.

  "You can't make it through here. Beyond those guards they have more," added Sanchez.

  "Let me worry about that. How many of these rebels would you say are in there?"

  "I don't know. It could be a dozen. It could be three times that number."

  "That's okay. We will take this from here."

  "What are you going to do?" She sounded worried.

  "We are going to restore order."

  He pulled out a stun grenade from his belt and looked to the others, checking if they were ready. It was clear that they were.

  "This is madness, and it is time we put an end to it."

  He primed the grenade and tossed it around the corner. A flash of light burst out through the corridor moments later. Taylor leapt out and ran a split second after it. The two guards were staggering about blind. He smacked one in the face with the stock of his rifle, and kicked the other in the jaw. They were both down, and the two squads ran on with purpose. Sanchez was shocked. She hesitated for a moment before being compelled to follow on after them.

  Newman was barely a few paces behind Taylor, as he burst through the doors of the Council building. Several shots were fired, but by the time he had got into the room, the attacker was dead and bleeding out on the floor. Taylor was scaling a flight of stairs towards the Mayor's office.

  "Wait!"

  It was all going too fast. He could feel something was wrong, but he could not tell what. He rushed up the stairs and saw another man be thrown from the balcony. His neck broke as he landed headfirst. Newman saw Taylor shoot another of the hostage takers. The doors at the top of the stairs were sealed, but without hesitating, Taylor kicked them open.

  A man sat at the Mayor's desk, and the Mayor was beside him, clearly restrained. There was a pistol lying on the desk, but the man seemed unarmed.

  "This is over. Surrender now!"

  "Colonel Taylor, I am just here to talk."

  A door opened behind the man, and a shooter appeared. Taylor fired two shots, and the man was down, but
as he lowered his rifle, he saw the man at the desk had taken a bullet in the head. His blood was splattered over the Mayor who looked in utter shock. Taylor rushed forward to be sure the shooter was disarmed. He and Newman reached the body at the same time. Taylor turned it over, but there was no gun. In his hand was a personal communicator; the type used for long-range communication. Taylor knelt down and felt around for a gun, thoroughly looking for one.

  Newman saw what happened, and he understood why, but also how significant their situation was.

  "You, you just killed that man? He wasn't armed," said the Mayor.

  "These men took you hostage at gunpoint," insisted Sommer.

  "But they promised they would not harm me. They promised they would never point a gun at me. They promised they would not, and they said..."

  "What? They said what?" Taylor demanded.

  "That the President would send soldiers. Soldiers would come and kill because that is all they knew. Because this regime didn't care for democracy anymore."

  The Mayor sounded as if he believed in the words of the extremists.

  Taylor's heart sunk.

  "It's a setup," Newman said quietly.

  He never imagined anyone could be so callous and malicious, and yet the evidence was there before him. They could hear loud shouting as something was transpiring on the floor below. Taylor rushed to the stairs. Sommer was looking up at him.

  "Sir, I have local police here asking for us to surrender to them. They say we are in breach of the Alliance constitution, and that this is an illegal act."

  Newman didn’t understand. He had seen everything Taylor had done, and not one element was questionable. Yet he could see how it was being framed. It was beyond belief.

  "What are we doing here, Sir?" Menard asked.

  Taylor didn't have any answers.

  "Where is Sanchez?" Newman asked.

  Several of them were asking around, but they couldn't find her.

  "She's gone," said Sommer.

  "Impossible," muttered Newman.

  He couldn't believe that any of the people on Earth could be so callous and calculating, and yet he was learning things this day beyond his understanding.

  "She fucked us," said Taylor.

  Neyman knew he was right, but they didn't have time to think about it. He rushed to Taylor's side. The Colonel looked stunned by it all, and that was a surprise in itself. It had to have been the betrayal.