Beyond Earth- Civil War

by Nick S. Thomas

  "There has to be more to look forward to than that. People still play the lottery, don't they?"

  "Millions, I hear."

  "Yes, because everyone wants hope that there is something better in their future. Rivers is giving them that, and you want to tell them this is the best they'll ever have. You don't want to see where that news would take us."

  "When did you become such a philosopher?"

  "Don’t sound so shocked. I've been around long enough to know what people want, and it's not too hard to see. It shouldn't be this difficult to give it to them, but it is. We have Bolormaa to blame for that, but as the President keeps reminding us, she is gone. We can't keep using her as an excuse for any of this. It is what it is. I want to fight for a better future, a brighter future, like we always have. Will you fight that battle with me?"

  Jones looked invigorated, as if that had provided some hope that he had long been missing.

  "Yes, of course I will."

  "You are sorely missed here. Any time you want your job back, you just come calling."

  "I appreciate that, and I wish I could, but we all have our responsibilities. I can do good work here. Important work."

  "I know."

  "Good luck, Mitch."

  "And to you. The President is going to try and fight my corner in the next few days. It is appreciated, but see he doesn't fight it too hard, you hear? I don't mind being the villain of this story a little while, but Rivers cannot afford to lose the support of the people."

  "I hear you."

  Taylor gave a friendly and casual salute to his old friend before shaking his hand.

  "We live in interesting times, Will, you have to admit."

  "Not the words I would use to describe them."

  "Just as ever, we're still breathing, so it's all good."

  Taylor left him and boarded the transport.

  "Everything okay?" Sommer asked.

  "Yeah, he's just concerned."

  "About what?"

  "Everything."

  Chapter 11

  "Prepare to jump in five, four, three, two, one...jump!"

  In a flash they were in orbit with M590, now commonly known as Poka. Newman felt a chill run down his spine as he looked down at the inhospitable planet. It was a bitter return. He'd never lost friends in combat, and the memory would be burnt in his mind forever.

  He was standing on the bridge with Taylor and Menard. Taylor saw the look of fear on his face.

  "What's the matter?"

  "Sir, you know what we faced down there, and what we lost?"

  "I do."

  "And still you have to ask."

  "Not a pleasant experience, but don't fear a return. Fear is no good to a marine. Tell me you want to get some payback?"

  He shrugged.

  "It's not exactly like fighting an armed enemy, is it, Sir?" Sergeant Menard asked.

  "Really? I think that is exactly what they are. Don't think because they haven't got firearms that they are primitive, stupid, or incapable of intelligent thought. I read the reports of what happened to you down there. They are a highly evolved species. Not only did they hunt you, they toyed with you. They are every bit the enemy that I have ever fought."

  "Do you really hate your enemies that much?"

  "You're damn right I do, Corporal."

  "And yet you made peace with some of them, and even have called many friends in time."

  "Yeah? Well, I hate plenty of my friends, too."

  Newman didn't get it, but he noticed the Colonel's subtle smirk, and was relieved to see that he was joking. It was a much needed lightening of the tone.

  "What are your orders, Colonel?" asked Roworth.

  "Not one man steps down there until we have an understanding of the surface. I want probes sent down. I want UAVs, scans. Anything you can get, Captain."

  "It won't be as accurate as getting down there in person."

  "No, and it won't be so dangerous either. Deploy mining drones and burrow down. I want to know what makes up the surface, what is underneath, and what we can learn about the species down below."

  "That's going to take some time."

  "Then so be it. If the President wants this job done right, then we are going to take as long as we need."

  Newman looked shocked.

  "What, you don't approve?" Taylor saw what he thought were judgemental eyes.

  "No, Sir, I just hadn't expected it. I thought you were a boots on the ground sort of guy."

  "When and where it is needed, and that is often, yes. But you and your team, and the research group that went before you, that is all the info I need to know not to make the same mistakes. That lesson was paid for in lives, but let them not have been wasted."

  "Colonel, we could be looking at a couple of days for our drones to gather data, and even then we won't know how good it will be, as we can't communicate with the surface."

  "Whatever it takes, Captain."

  The doors to the bridge opened, and Sommer stepped aboard.

  "Colonel, everything is squared away. We are ready and able to whatever is required."

  "It’s time to take a seat and let the machines do the work, Lieutenant."

  She looked as surprised as the rest of them, but Roworth was already launching the drones.

  "You're shocked?"

  "Yes, Sir, I expected to be heading to the surface on arrival."

  "And I wish we could, but we are all alone out here. We should have been given a few thousands marines and an awful lot of support for this, but we haven't got it, so we'll make do. We’ll investigate as thoroughly as we can before making a move."

  "Yes, Sir."

  "You have other concerns?"

  "Not about this ship or anyone aboard, Sir."

  He smiled, knowing exactly what she meant.

  "So this is about CJ?"

  "Sir, he may have promised to serve, but he is an outlaw, and he has been let loose, do you honestly believe he can be trusted?"

  "I do, and even if I am wrong, he has Captain King to keep him in check."

  "And you think she can manage that?"

  "Of course I do. She is an anchor to that man, in the best of possible ways."

  "And you, Colonel? Do you have such an anchor?"

  "I have a crew that I trust and aren't afraid to tell it to me straight, so yes I do. Remember that. That is why I have brought you along, Corporal. Not because of your skills, your experience, or any authority, but because I like to have insight beyond my own. And you have it by the bucket load. I might not always like what you have to say, but that is all the more reason to hear it. I got through the wars I have fought because of the people by my side. Not just because they can fight, but that they can reason. They can think for themselves and help me make vital decisions that no man should have to make alone."

  "Is that why you are happy to have Captain Jones at the President's side?"

  Taylor smiled. That was just the sought of insight he wanted to see.

  "Corporal, before you were called up for service, what did you want to be?" asked Sommer.

  "I wanted to be a lawyer."

  Taylor cracked up and laughed, but Sommer was impressed.

  "Why in the hell would you want to do that?"

  "Because it's a way to change the world without being a politician," he replied sternly, as if it was something he had thought long and hard about.

  "That's a noble reason," said Sommer.

  "Yeah, and a pointless one. Do you know what lawyers spend their time doing now?"

  "Same as they always have, Colonel. Try to achieve justice."

  Taylor laughed once more.

  "I don't think that's what many of them ever aimed for, but even if they did, that isn't the job anymore."

  "Begging your pardon, Sir, but how would you know?"

  "Kid's got a point," replied Sommer.

  "Maybe, but I have seen the work of those bloodsuckers. In fact most of it these days revolves around nothing more t
han stopping people tearing each other apart, and keeping the status quo."

  "Is that not a noble deed? To keep the fabric of society together?"

  Taylor took a deep breath and mulled it over.

  "You see, Colonel, not everybody who fights for the Alliance has to do so with a weapon. If I'd not been called up, I would be serving the Alliance just as much. Maybe even more so."

  "But you are a fine marine, and the Alliance is in much need of them. You are a young Corporal, but you inspire your squad like a boss. That is no easy feat. People give me that respect now because of my name. I don't have to do anything for it anymore. But you have built it from the ground up. You are destined for great things, Corporal, so long as you live long enough."

  * * *

  Babacan watched from the bridge as they arrived in Krys space. He had no worries or concerns about where they were going, only about the crew he was flying with. They were all of his own kind by race, but he no longer saw race as a defining factor. He had served alongside Humans and Krys that had earned his respect, as well as many from both sides who he had no time for. He didn't know a single person aboard, and felt that he had been given a second rate crew.

  Captain Asil was a good bit younger than he was, only just old enough to have fought as a young man during the war against Bolormaa. He had no scars to show for his service, and Babacan didn't know how to take that. He hadn't read the Captain's file. He had no time or care for such things. He was going to base his opinion of the man on what he saw with his own eyes. They'd barely spoken from the first day they had spent together. They had visited three separate sectors and failed to convince anyone of their motives. Nobody was interested, and Babacan was becoming impatient.

  "The station in this sector is a trade outpost, though it also operates as a port for a great many vessels. We may find some who are willing to aid us here, or at least point us in the right direction."

  "Why would they join us, Captain? What is the motivation?"

  "The saving of all our worlds. The President's plan and dream." He sounded surprised that anyone would even have to ask.

  Babacan could barely believe it. He was talking like a Human, and judging the Krys as though they were Human.

  "If they believed in that, why would they not already be working with us?"

  "They don't know the extent of our work. The Krys empire has been isolated for many years. They don't know what we are trying to achieve here. They don't know what we can do."

  "And what reason do they have for believing you?"

  "My word, and the word of our President."

  Babacan didn't reply, but the doubt in stony face was clear for all to see.

  "You don't believe in the work we are doing, do you?"

  "I believe in what I can see, what I can touch, and what I can do. In people who prove they are to be believed. What has President Rivers given?"

  "I thought you to be more enlightened than this? You speak like our elders, terrified of change and suspicious of the world."

  "No, I find a middle ground, because neither side has all the answers. If you want our people to support you, for them to serve and fight, and to provide their resources, you have to give them a reason, beyond any doubt. Words are not enough."

  "How can survival not be enough? A return to the beautiful worlds that we once knew, don't you remember how they looked?"

  "Of course I do. But if you want people to fight for you, they will want proof of that. More than a decade has passed, and what progress have you got to show them?"

  "I don't understand. I thought you were assigned to this ship because you believed in this work."

  "No, I was assigned here because the President wanted someone capable to keep control over this mission."

  Asil did not take that well, but Babacan did not care. They stood silently for a few moments, watching ships come and go between the busy spaceport. They hadn't seen such a hive of activity in years. It made the starbase at Earth seem desolate.

  "You see. These are people getting on with their lives, what do you think they will want to hear from us?"

  "I don't understand how you can be so cynical about our operations. We are working towards the survival of all the races in the Alliance."

  "I believe that. Or at least that you do. But how do you convince them?"

  "What do I even call you? What is your rank?"

  "I am in charge here. That is all that you need to know. As commander of this operation you can call me that, Commander."

  "Do you have no idea of the protocols of the Navy?"

  "No, they died with the war," he replied sternly.

  Asil could tell he was getting nowhere. Despite that, he had a great deal of respect for Babacan, knowing he was a hero of the war, and a famous marine of his people.

  "We should not have come here."

  "Why? These are our people, why should we not reach out to them?"

  Babacan pointed to a tiny spec on the display screen before them.

  "What is that?"

  "This area is being watched, and not by those from the station, Captain."

  "Get me a view of whatever that is!"

  The display zoomed in to reveal a single seat Krys light fighter. It was floating in space as if waiting to pounce, and looking at the station and the traffic that was coming and going.

  "What? What the hell is that?"

  "If that fighter belonged to the station, it would be on the move, on patrol, Sir," said one of the crew.

  "But it isn't one of theirs, is it?" Babacan asked.

  "Sir, I am getting jump signatures. We have ships incoming, lots of them."

  "Put it on screen!" Asil yelled.

  Jump gates opened before them, and a dozen warships passed through.

  "What is this?"

  "They are Krys, Captain."

  "Yes, I can see that, but what are they doing here?" he snapped.

  "They aren't here to talk," Babacan replied.

  "Hail that fleet!"

  Before his words had even left his mouth, the vessels opened fire. They were targeting two of the larger transports as others began to jump out. The vessels were spooling up to make a jump just as their engines were struck, and they began to lose power. Dozens of the others had made it out, but as many more were still trying to leave, and being bombarded by the fleet. A small number returned fire, but the up gunned merchant class vessels were no match for the warships they were facing.

  "What do we do?"

  "You came here to gather support for the Alliance. Will you fight to help those who you are asking to join our cause, or not?"

  "We can't take on that, not that many warships, Commander."

  Babacan looked judgemental. It was clear that he was spoiling for a fight, whether he thought they could win it or not.

  "Prepare to jump. Get us out of here!"

  "Prepare to jump!"

  A salvo of fire was coming their way, and even before the countdown started, they were rocked violently by a brutal onslaught of fire.

  "Jump, jump, now!" Captain Asil yelled.

  "Jumping in five, four..."

  Another salvo smashed into them from five enemy vessels targeting their engines. They were rocked once more.

  "Sir, we've lost jump engines!"

  It was a miracle they were even still in once piece. Another salvo smashed into the aft of the ship seconds later, and they were thrown from their feet. Babacan crashed into the Captain's chair, but angrily got up moments later with blood dripping from the side of his head. The lights flickered on the bridge, finally failing, and the red emergency lighting kicked in. He reached down to Asil and helped him to his feet. The Captain looked stunned, having hit his head a lot harder than Babacan had.

  "What are they doing? Don't they know we are an Alliance vessel?"

  "They know, and they don't care."

  "This is an act of war," he protested.

  "Maybe, but if we die here, nobody will ever know. We will vanish
without a trace, another unexplained incident."

  "What are you saying?"

  "We are not going down without a fight, but neither will we be forgotten."

  "You want to fight. You want to fight that!" He pointed to the flickering projection showing the fleet bearing down on them.

  "Go freely like a slave, or fight like a warrior, it is your choice," said Babacan.

  That made Asil think.

  "We can't let this be forgotten, like you said."

  "And?"

  "And I think I know how we can tell this story. Though we might not live to see the other side."

  "If this is our time, we will die like warriors," said Babacan.

  The Krys vessels were launching boarding craft, and they were closing fast. It had all happened so quickly that Asil was still in shock. Babacan could see he was a capable officer, just not experienced enough for his own command, a reality of their current situation, having barely survived the war with Bolormaa.

  "Encode all data and videofeeds from this event to a distress beacon, and set a delay on its activation to eighteen hours from now. Then launch immediately!"

  Babacan smiled.

  Maybe this Captain isn't so stupid, after all.

  "Distress beacon activated, and...launched."

  They watched as it launched, a tiny capsule barely visible except for the camera feed that they had tracking it.

  "Somebody must find this."

  "They will, Captain, but not in time for us."

  "What do we do?"

  Babacan looked surprised that he even had to ask, as if he had been anticipating this outcome all along.

  "We fight."

  "But we can't win."

  "No, you cannot. We cannot, but you can give honour to the uniform you wear, and your family. We do not give up. We do not surrender. You will fight with honour, or you are no brother of mine."

  They could see a number of small assault ships coming their way, as others approached the rest of the disabled ships around them.

  “We are an Alliance vessel. We are neutral. Perhaps once they know that they will leave us alive.”

  “It is too late for that.”

  “But what do we have that would be worth taking?”

  “They are pirates, and so they will take everything. Weapons, ammunition, food supplies, the ship, or any parts they deem useful.”