Battle Earth VIII (Book 8)

by Nick S. Thomas

  "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.

  "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 an
d 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."

  Chapter 10

  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.