Battle Beyond Earth: Invasion

by Nick S. Thomas

  A riposte quickly came in the form of a simple hook to Taylor's face. The force almost snapped his head, and he was dizzy from the impact. But he came right back at her. Another blow to the face, but it seemed to have little effect. She righted herself and grabbed him around the neck. She spun around and lifted him off his feet like a ragdoll. He flew over her head before being planted on his back with immense speed. The wind was taken out of him, and he was stunned as he hit the floor.

  There seemed no strength left in him as he gasped for air, and she casually let go and paced around him. He refused to die on his back. He rolled over and got onto one knee and lifted himself up. He felt wrecked, but he lifted his hands and gestured for her to come forward. She did so and stepped under his weak jab and drove an uppercut into his chin. It launched him up into the air before crashing down to the floor once again. His face was covered in his own blood. It was a situation he was familiar with, but this was different. This hadn't been anywhere close to a fair fight. If he managed to get back up, it would be for the last time.

  Taylor sighed and forced himself up despite the pain and stood defiantly before her. He had no stance. His hands were low. He looked defeated, but he wouldn't admit it.

  "This isn't the end for you, Colonel," said Bolormaa.

  He didn't get it and looked at her with a peculiar expression.

  "Not the end? What are you gonna do, put me in a cage? Do your worst."

  "You misunderstand me, Colonel. I am sending you back to your people."

  Taylor's face turned to look of dumbfounded. It was the last thing he had expected from her.

  "Why? Why would you let me go?"

  Bolormaa paced around. He couldn't tell if she was trying to think of a reason, or trying to decide how much to disclose to him. He couldn't believe his luck, but he still wouldn't believe it until he was free and clear of her, and the range of her guns.

  She turned her back to him and began to walk away into the shadows from where she had come, but the two Princes did not move a millimetre. They watched him like a hawk. He could see they were desperate for him to make a move that they could respond to, but he wasn't that stupid. He realised now that he had a chance to walk away from this, and suddenly his life had value once more.

  "Hey, Bolo, just tell me, why do you want to let me live? I will do everything in my power to end you, and I have never failed yet."

  She stopped and turned back to look at him.

  "Good luck," she replied before continuing on.

  Taylor couldn't believe how frustrating that was as he shook his head. He looked over to where his Assegai had been tossed and walked casually over to pick it up. The two Princes tracked his every move and stayed three metres away at all times. As he picked up his Assegai, he once again had the urge to use it but knew he couldn't. He waved the point towards the two Princes.

  "Two of you down already, you ain't so tough," he said.

  He knew that wasn't true, but it annoyed them in exactly the way he had intended. One made a step closer to him as if wanting to attack, but a call from Bolormaa stopped him in his tracks.

  "Like a dog on a leash," added Taylor with a smile.

  Bolormaa was out of sight in the shadows now as he turned and headed for his craft. As he reached the door, he heard her voice call out one last time and echo through the chamber.

  "You have seven days, Colonel, and then I am coming for you."

  That sent a chill down his spine, but he was glad to be rid of them. He hit the door release and watched the Princes carefully until the door was shut. He staggered over to the pilot’s seat and slumped down into it. He was mentally and physically exhausted. He still didn't understand what the hell had gone on, but he reached forward for the emergency recall autopilot and activated it. The engines fired up, and he soared out from Bolormaa's vessel.

  "Mitch, is that you?" a voice asked over open channels.

  He recognised it instantly.

  Alita!

  Her voice was weak and quivering, but it brought warmth back to his heart after the ice cold welcome he had received aboard the enemy vessel.

  "Mitch?"

  "Yeah, I'm here, he finally replied.

  "Are you okay?"

  "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm coming home."

  She began to weep and couldn't get any more words out. Another light flashed on the comms console. He pressed it without hesitation, and a display projected before him with Song at the centre. Alita was looking in over her shoulder but could barely breathe as she looked at his bloody face.

  "Are you hurt, Colonel?" Song asked.

  He shook his head. He was still stunned by the whole experience. He was hurting, but nothing he hadn't felt a hundred times before.

  "What did they want from you?"

  Taylor shook his head and shrugged. "Quite honestly, I'm not sure."

  "Just get back here," pleaded Alita.

  Song looked annoyed that she had interrupted, but didn't have the heart to say anything.

  "So what now?"

  "We have got a few days’ grace. I don't know why, but we have. Or at least if Bolormaa is to be trusted, we have seven days."

  "Bolormaa? You saw her with your own eyes?" Song asked in amazement.

  Taylor sighed as he wiped the blood from his nose that was still streaming down his face.

  "Yeah, I met her all right. Don't expect all the answers to the questions you have. Believe me, I asked them, but I got little back. The only important thing for you to know is that we are safe for now, and in seven days we won't be. We have a lot of work to do, but at least we'll do it together. I'll see you soon. Taylor out."

  He ended the transmission and just rested back as the ship flew itself. He was able to think and reflect in peace. He still couldn't believe he was still alive, and he thought back to all the times he had been through such similar situations. How could he have survived all that he had done? He never believed in a higher power or fate, and yet it was as he really did have a guardian angel.

  "Seven days," he said to himself with a sigh.

  It felt like it was a long time away, and yet he knew the time would fly past. He soon came into land, and the autopilot put the ship down with smooth precision. The ramp lowered, and he stepped out to find Song and Alita waiting for him with a few others of the Immortals, but there was no welcome party. They seemed more surprised to see him than anything else.

  Alita rushed to him, but Song called out. "Wait!"

  She didn't stop and leapt up, wrapping her arms around him as if she never wanted to let him go again. Taylor kissed the side of her head and then pulled her aside to deal with Song's concerns.

  "Sorry, Colonel, but as much as we are all glad to see you alive, we need to know it's definitely you. I hope you can understand."

  He begrudgingly nodded in agreement. He thought back to the clone of Charlie Jones, and all the pain and suffering he had caused. They had every right to be wary of his presence. He was amazed he made it back himself, and they were right to doubt it, too.

  "What? It's Taylor, you can see that," complained Alita.

  Mitch shook his head. "No, they are right to ask."

  “Then I am staying with you,” Alita insisted.

  Taylor looked to Song for approval, as he respected her command aboard her own ship, even if this was his mission. She nodded in approval.

  “Come this way, Colonel.”

  He was led to the medical bay. As they strode through the corridors, he saw the fatigue on the faces of the crew. They were weak and he understood why. He had asked a lot of them, and many were wondering if any of it was worth it. Victory seemed an impossible dream now, and Song was quick to relay their concerns.

  “So all this to end the Morohta presence, and what have we achieved?” she asked.

  “None of us could have predicted this,” snapped Alita.

  “And yet here we are, no better off after all our efforts.”

  “Not true,” stated Taylor, “Don’t t
hink for a minute that there won’t be setbacks in this war. You want to always be winning? Well, tough, it doesn’t happen, and it never will. We did exactly what we set out to do here, and nobody should feel bad about that. It was a triumph.”

  “Oh, really? And what about how things stand now?”

  “Bolormaa was always coming. We knew that, and we held her off as long as we could. Now she is here, but we have a little more time. We have beaten back some of her forces, and we have drawn her out.”

  “I am not sure that’s the kind of beast you want to draw out.”

  “Want to? No. Need to? Yes. The Morohta are fanatical, and they will not stop coming after us while she rules them.”

  “And you think they would stop if we killed her?”

  “It’s worth a shot,” added Alita.

  Song grabbed Taylor’s arm and stopped him and leaned in close.

  “You are pushing this crew too hard. Everyone around you, you are asking too much of them. We aren’t unbreakable.”

  Taylor nodded in agreement. It weighed heavily on him, all the people he had left dead in his wake. Not the ones he had killed, but all those that had died under his command or following him in one mission or another. Rarely had he had time to consider the toll it had taken on all those around him. As he began to think about it more, he realised he had to stop, as it would cripple him. He turned and looked into Song’s eyes.

  “Is our world worth fighting for? Everyone you know, are they worth fighting for?”

  She nodded.

  “How much? How far would you go? What would you sacrifice?”

  Song shook her head. “I don’t know.”

  “But I do. Everything, including my life, and that is why I win.”

  She looked humbled, but Alita wasn’t sure Taylor believed what he was saying. She had seen him unwilling to sacrifice those he loved, but she knew why he said it and understood completely.

  He was led to the medical quarters and soon found himself on a table having every test being performed on him, but Alita never left him.

  “I thought I’d lost you.”

  “So did I,” he replied solemnly.

  “Why did she let you live?”

  He shook his head. He had no better understanding now than he did when she first spared his life. He wished he understood her agenda and the motives that drove her. He wanted to think the Aranui had the answers, and yet they seemed to have nothing to add.

  “Do you think we can beat them?”

  Taylor tried to hide his gut instincts as much as possible. He believed in a winning attitude, but he was starting to doubt it all himself.

  “Maybe. Doesn’t matter which way it goes. Either we can and we live, or we don’t, and we won’t have to suffer under them anymore.”

  It wasn’t very comforting, but he didn’t know what else to say. He wished he had a way to beat Bolormaa, but he didn’t. As he thought back to all the hardships in his life, he realised it was nothing new. He wasn’t going to give up, though.

  “Hey, you think I haven’t been here before?”

  She didn’t know what to say.

  “I can’t remember the times I have faced an enemy that seemed unbeatable, and look at me. I am still here. Still breathing and still fighting.”

  She shook her head and wept more, and he understood why.

  “We can’t win, can we?” she sobbed through her tears.

  He reached up and placed his hand on the side of her head, and she nestled down into it as if it were instantly comforting.

  “Of course we can win. Why would you think we can’t?” he asked.

  She opened her mouth to respond, but he reached up and placed a finger over her lips to seal them.

  “We can do it. We were born to win this.”

  Chapter 2

  “We can't fight this. We must find a means of making peace!" a politician called out.

  Taylor didn't even recognise them. They all seemed to look the same after a while. This one was black and from one of the African nations. Taylor just shook his head. Once again he found himself amongst world leaders and bureaucrats. He would do anything to not be in that room. His head was pounding. He couldn't tell how much of that was from the beating he had taken, and how much was from the tedious hours he had been amongst these people. He had wiped the blood from his face, but dried remains of it lay in the recesses of his skin.

  "The threat is just days away. They mean to come here and destroy us all!" another cried.

  "Colonel Taylor!" a voice shouted.

  He was so zoned out by it all that he hadn't even noticed his name being called. He was just staring out into space as if shell shocked.

  "Colonel Taylor?"

  Finally, he heard and turned to see the room was still and quiet as everyone looked to him.

  "Yes?" he responded.

  He had no idea what he was being asked. His mind had wandered back to his encounter with Bolormaa as he tried to work out what it all meant.

  "What is your assessment of the situation... what do you believe should be our next course of action?" asked the President of the Alliance.

  He coughed to clear his throat. He hadn't even given it any thought yet.

  "Bolormaa won't accept surrender. She won't accept peace. She won't stop coming at us until she gets what she wants."

  "And what is that?"

  He shook his head. "I don't know."

  "Don't know, how can you not know?" asked another.

  "Look, I asked her all right!" he yelled.

  That silenced them once more as he sighed in an agitated manner.

  "I asked, over and over, in every way I could think to ask. I didn't expect to come back alive, but when I realised I was, I tried to find out why. I asked the questions you all want answers to, and I am none the wiser for having done so. This has all happened before, that much is certain," he replied as he looked to Irala, "Humanity was too young to even catch the attention of the Morohta the last time they laid waste to the civilisations of this universe, but not them," he said, pointing to Irala.

  "Well, Councillor, can you add anything more to this conversation?" asked the President.

  He said nothing, but Jafar stood up to address them in his place.

  Jafar looked at the President. "Bolormaa plagued my people, too, long before anyone that is alive today can remember. The Morohta are a legend to us. Many of us thought they were just a myth. If our legends are true, then perhaps they might explain why she has returned."

  "And what legend is that?"

  "That Bolormaa is looking for her equal. A warrior great enough to challenge her."

  That sparked Taylor's interest. He’d wondered if it was something like that, but she seemed so vague when he had pressed the issue.

  "You're telling us that she is cutting her way through entire civilisations because she wants to find a worthy opponent?"

  Jafar nodded.

  The Council broke out into a rage of arguments and yelling across the room. It was enough to compound Taylor's sore head, and there seemed no end in sight. The arguments went on for several minutes until finally he got up and walked across the centre of the floor towards the door. Just before he could reach it, the room fell silent as they watched him, and the President called out, "Colonel Taylor? Where are you going?"

  He stopped and sighed as if it were the most stupid question imaginable, before turning back to address the President and the others who still clung to his every word.

  "I am going to get ready for this war. Get my people ready. Do whatever I can do in a few days. When the Morohta come, they are going to hit hard, and we need to be able to strike them whenever they arrive."

  "You want to attack them directly?" asked one of the Americans.

  "Damn right I do. We are the Alliance, after all. We have numbers. We have the resources. We can't just wait around to be picked off one by one. I won't stand by and let whole colonies fall and just wait in line for the next one."

 
; "What do you suggest we do?"

  "Call up every fighting man and woman in the Alliance, including retirees. Have every single one of them ready for combat. Make all our ships airworthy and ready for combat, and get the next generation ready to fight."

  "The next generation? What if we don't last that long?"

  "Well then it won't matter, will it?" he replied and then left.

  Once again the room burst into a frenzy of activity as they went at each other. Taylor only shook his head as he walked out the door. The door shut behind him, and he found Irala standing there.

  "What do you want?" Taylor asked.

  "We were unable to stand against the Morohta, so what makes you think you can now?"

  He shrugged. "We don't have any choice. So we'll do what we can. It's the only thing left for us now."

  "And if that isn't enough?"

  He shook his head. "It has to be. It always has been before."

  "You never seem to consider defeat a possibility, do you?"

  Taylor smiled. "Nope. If I did, then we would have already lost. You know more about Bolormaa than most, have you got any great advice?"

  "I am ashamed to say that you may know more than I do."

  Taylor looked at him in surprise.

  "You have actually seen her with your own eyes," he added.

  Taylor grunted with disappointment. He had hoped for at least some useful morsel of information.

  "You're a big fucking help."

  "What would you have me do?"

  "Assemble every soldier, every gun, and every ship you can, and be ready for anything."

  "That is not much of a plan."

  "No, Irala, but when you’ve got a better one, you come and tell me."

  He strode off feeling no better than when he had gone inside to discuss the matter with the Alliance leaders. In fact, he felt worse. His headache had worsened and his bruises had swollen. After a few minutes walking, he eventually stepped out to the light of day and into a pedestrianised court way that led to a landing area. There was a grass green in the centre and trees all around with benches for people to sit and ponder. He looked up at the bright blue sky and just marvelled at it.