Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection

by Nick S. Thomas

"Are they anywhere near our target? Can't we just avoid them altogether? There can only be a few hundred by the looks."

  Taylor looked down at the console Irala had given him and shook his head.

  "No, Commander, they have settled over the remnants of the capitol city, right where we are heading."

  "How do they feel about other races, Babacan?" Jones asked.

  "They are not kind towards them."

  Taylor sighed. "Will they accept any kind of authority?"

  "A Krys Officer or Lord with enough troops at his back, yes."

  "That's helpful."

  The bridge fell silent, but Taylor looked at Babacan with a smile.

  "Fancy playing a Krys Lord?"

  * * *

  "Think they have ever seen a Human before?" Jones looked worried as he asked.

  Taylor looked to Babacan. His armour had been hastily decorated and adorned with precious metals by the ship's engineers.

  "I doubt it," he replied. He looked less than comfortable with the whole situation.

  Half of the craft was filled with Krys warriors from the platoon Sarik had provided. Taylor couldn't help but feel safe amongst them with his Immortals in support.

  "This is not going to work."

  "You said yourself these are simple folk. We put on a good enough show, and we'll be fine. It's called a bluff."

  Babacan shook his head.

  "I have no idea how to act like a Lord."

  "Yeah? Just walk like an asshole, and talk like you own everything and everyone, and you'll be fine."

  Jones couldn't help but laugh. "The feudal Lords I descended from would be turning in their graves."

  "I knew your family had some history, but not that much?"

  "Oh, there was land and title back in my family."

  "Yeah? What happened?" Alita asked.

  "War," he replied solemnly.

  The light tone was killed just as quickly as Jones had created it, as they all knew how that felt. Taylor turned his attention back to Alita at the helm.

  "Stick to plan, keep it calm. We aren't trying to surprise them here."

  "Still doesn't feel right going in with no cover at all."

  "We've got cover. Don't you worry!"

  They came in to land just fifty metres away from the edge of the small town. Ten Stormers put down, and Taylor was first out of the door. He signalled for the others to join him, and Babacan stepped out without weapon in hand and stood like a statue as if awaiting some kind of reception. The town had the appearance of having been made from prefabricated quick build structures, thinner and weaker than anything normally seen from the Krys. More than twenty Krys approached. None wore armour, but all had on thick quilted clothing and carried typical Krys issue pulse cannons.

  "Guess they aren't that primitive," whispered Jones.

  They approached confidently and brashly, as if with no concern at all. Several had their guns slung on their shoulders or held at their side. They seemed to perceive the newcomers as no threat at all.

  "They seem awfully confident."

  "Never mistake cockiness for confidence, Jones," replied Taylor.

  The group of Cingenes stopped ten metres in front of them, appearing to be weighing them up and waiting for some introduction. Taylor wanted to handle them himself, but he knew he could not.

  "I present to you Lord Babacan!" Taylor announced.

  He stepped aside and let his Krys friend pass through into the opening between both sides.

  "We are here on a mission that is not of your concern. We come to you out of respect before we go about our business!"

  One of the Cingenes stepped forward. He looked a little older than most there, but was dressed the same as all the others.

  "So these are the Humans, Lord Babacan? They do not look like much!"

  "Looks can be deceiving. Let us not forget that it was a Human who felled the mighty Lord Erdogan!"

  "Is that one among you?"

  Taylor smirked a little. It was an absurd question to ask if you knew what a Human’s lifespan was, and yet, in this case the answer was the most unlikely. Babacan looked to Taylor who subtly shook his head.

  "I count the slayer of Erdogan amongst my friends, but he would not concern himself with a trivial mission such as this."

  "What is your purpose here?"

  "None of his business," Taylor said quietly.

  "You need not know what our business is, only that our stay will be short," replied Babacan.

  Nice one, Taylor thought.

  The Cingene passed his rifle to the one standing next to him and approached.

  "A Krys Lord amongst us. It would be an honour if you would join us while your people do whatever they need to do."

  Babacan looked uncertain and to Taylor for answers, both knowing they had to make a response if they wanted to try and keep things civil.

  "I accept," he replied to the Cingene, looking at Taylor.

  "I will keep my personal guard. You may get to work."

  Taylor bowed slightly as Babacan signalled for the eight Krys warriors he had with him to go forward.

  "I am Benli, and I rule this world, the four hundred and eighteen Krys who live here," said the Cingene as Babacan approached.

  Taylor wasn't keen on leaving his friend. He was already starting to see him as he used to see Jafar in the early days, but they had no choice.

  "That a good idea?" Jones asked as Taylor strode past him, tracing his steps towards the target on the console fixed to his arm.

  "Probably not, but what are we supposed to say, we are here looking for an invaluable object that you could probably sell for an entire fleet of warships?"

  Jones said nothing and followed on.

  The ruined remnants of buildings were protruding from the dirt, but it looked as though they had been buried several storeys by the sand and dirt of the centuries.

  "I guess the Krys worked out some kind of reversal of terraforming?"

  "We can do that now?" Taylor asked in surprise.

  "Yes. It isn't perfect, but we can make habitable worlds. Could probably even go some way to fixing this place."

  "I'm not sure the Aranui would even want it anymore. This place meant everything to them, the way it used to be. Sometimes memories are best left as they are."

  As they past the shuttles, an Aranui Guardian stepped out and stopped before him. He held out the small steel ball from which Irala's likeness had been projected. The Guardian held out its left hand, and a hatch opened in the centre of its palm of a similar size.

  "Guess this is how it works," Taylor said, placing the item into the Guardian's grasp. The hole sealed shut.

  "How may I be of service?" the Guardian asked in Irala's voice.

  "You have this mapping information, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then lead the way."

  The Guardian immediately took into full stride as they followed. He looked back one last time to check that half the troops had stayed to establish a holding base at the landing zone as he had requested.

  "You are expecting trouble from them, aren't you?"

  "Damn right, Jones. They aren't much developed beyond the Krys I used to know. If they see a single weakness, any opportunity which they can exploit, they will."

  "That's rather sceptical," Alita said, rushing to join them.

  "Yeah, well, you would be if you had seen half the shit I have. I trust those that have proven worthy of it. This lot looks like they'd slit our throats in the night, just to take the rations and weapons we are carrying."

  "So you have just fed Babacan into the lions' den?" asked Jones.

  "He can handle himself."

  The Guardian led them to a domed structure that protruded a metre from the surface. It leant down, placed an explosive charge, and stepped back and watched. The charge ignited and was surprisingly quiet. Taylor stepped forward. A two-metre diameter oval hole had been cut as if with laser precision in to what was a half-metre thick ceiling. />
  "Got to get me some of those," he stated, leaping into the hole after the Guardian without question.

  "Ah, hell," Jones muttered and jumped in after him.

  He landed at the top of what appeared to be some sort of tower. It was fifteen metres wide and had a broad spiral staircase leading as far down as they could see. The Guardian and Taylor were already working their way further below the surface.

  "Not a big fan of going underground when we only know one way in or out," Jones said to Alita.

  "Why?"

  "Getting buried alive? Think of a worse way to go?"

  "I am sure there are plenty. Don't worry about it. We've got plenty of people to come looking for us if anything goes wrong."

  "Providing the heat isn't too much. How do we know there aren't more of those Cingenes up there, or even down here? They could be waiting for their moment to pounce."

  "Paranoid much?"

  Jones did his best to smile. "Paranoia doesn't necessarily make me wrong. I don't like this at all. If it were this easy, then Irala would have come and done it himself a long time ago. There is something he isn't telling us."

  "Probably, but Taylor will get to the bottom of it. He always does."

  They went on for five minutes and reached the lowest point, the only lighting in the dark spaces the torches mounted to their shoulders and rifles. Taylor switched his rifle selector to flare and fired off three of the bright blue lights into the darkness beyond.

  The light spread into every corner and revealed vast catacombs and arches, and yet there was nothing on the floor space at all.

  "Guess they had time to clear out?" Jones asked.

  The Guardian continued onwards without another word and led them through one room after another. It became deeper and deeper below the surface. The interior was much like the Aranui vessels, stark and simplistic, but with a level of elegance and sophistication in design not seen amongst the other races. They reached a room at the far end and what had been a huge and lavish fountain. It was built into the side of the walls and stood five metres tall, but there was no sign of any liquid. The Guardian strode right up to it and pushed its hand into one of the openings.

  They heard a clunk and a mechanism activate. A square entrance two metres wide slid open. It had previously been entirely invisible to the eye.

  "What is this?"

  "The secret access tunnels of my people's government," replied the Guardian.

  "And you know how to access them?"

  "Only a handful of the most loyal subjects ever did. This was passed down to me many of your centuries ago."

  They passed through three more such hidden doors before finding themselves at an elevator. It was barely large enough for ten, caked in dust, and yet several lights still flashed at a control terminal.

  "No way, that can't still work," muttered Jones. He sounded worried.

  "It will work for another three thousand of your years."

  "All right, let's do this," said Taylor.

  * * *

  Babacan took a seat at a table that he had been ushered to. Benli and the rest of the Cingenes around him appeared unusually kind and friendly from the few experiences he had received from their kind in the past. Several large platters of food were delivered to the table that was now occupied in equal number by Babacan's people and Benli's. The leader gestured for Babacan to help himself to the food, and he could not refuse. He took what resembled flat bread. It was a bastardisation of what he was used to.

  "We haven't seen any life beyond our own for many years," Benli opened the conversation, "Thought we had been left out here all alone."

  "I had no idea any of our people had inhabited this world."

  "No, you wouldn't. Only that wretch Jafar would know."

  Babacan felt his spine tingle, as he sat up a little taller at the offence towards his master.

  "That's why we are here, didn't you know?"

  Babacan was starting to sense the trouble they were in, even if he didn't yet understand the situation.

  "What did you do to warrant such a treatment?"

  The Cingene leader looked even more aggrieved by his question than Babacan had been over the mention of Jafar.

  "What did we do? What did we do!"

  Babacan felt his hand reach for the rifle slung at his side. His hand stopped just millimetres from the grip. He knew he needed to avoid contact if at all possible. Benli leapt to his feet and began to circle the table. Everyone was on edge. The tension in the room was so thick, it was clear a fight was almost certainly imminent.

  "Your Lord Jafar banished us to this world for doing nothing more than what our families have done for thousands of years. For as long as our people have lived."

  Thieves, liars, and bandits; just because you have done it for so long, doesn't make it any better. You're still scum!

  He thought it but held his tongue. Benli continued circling the table, and finally stopped beside Babacan.

  "Your Lord Jafar, the saviour of our people. What did he do? Overthrow the greatest leader our people ever knew, and make allies of a pathetic and puny race of weaklings. Jafar is a disgrace to our people, and I would have him know it."

  He smacked Babacan in the face as if to challenge him. The impact was enough to almost make him fall from his seat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the companion beside him squeeze the trigger on a pistol he had quickly drawn.

  "No!" he yelled.

  But it was too late. The shot rang out, and he felt blood splash into the side of his face. He turned just in time to see the body of Benli fall with a bullet almost dead centre between his eyes. Babacan was speechless. He saw a gun being raised and reached for his own. There was no choice.

  Chapter 9

  They seemed to have been walking for almost an hour through a never-ending maze of rooms, corridors, and hidden doors. They saw not one sign of life, or even of anyone having disturbed the places they had been through.

  "This is creepy," said Jones.

  "You're only just now getting that vibe?" asked Alita.

  The Guardian was approaching what looked like yet another dead-end that they expected to pass through, when it stopped.

  "This is it."

  "What?"

  "The door I do not know how to open, Colonel."

  "What? What do you mean?"

  "I cannot open this door."

  Taylor looked down in front of the Guardian. There were two fine footprints in the dust. They were Aranui prints, long singe faded and barely visible.

  "He did try," Taylor whispered, as he pointed to the evidence.

  "Then why would he lie to us?"

  "Because he cannot admit that he was here, Jones. He said it himself; it is a crazy story that not even his people believe. And now he cannot sneak away to try again."

  "The Aranui live pretty much forever, and they are far smarter than we could ever hope to be. If he couldn't solve this, in what, hundreds of years, how are we supposed to?"

  Taylor shook his head.

  "I really have no idea, but I am not going to give up just yet," he replied calmly.

  A light flashed, and an Aranui warrior projected before their very eyes.

  "What is your purpose here?"

  Most of them took a few cautious steps back, but Taylor stood his ground.

  "I am Colonel Mitch Taylor, and I have come for the Tamir, the Pauri Tao."

  "Why?"

  "I was sent by one of your people, Irala."

  "Why?"

  "Because we need the spear. We need it once again."

  "Not acceptable."

  Taylor stopped to re-think his strategy.

  "What does it want?" Alita asked.

  "A genuine reason to give up the only thing it values."

  He looked back to the Aranui projection that was awaiting his next attempt.

  "You are Rua, aren't you? The great hero of the Aranui people?"

  "I am the memory of Rua."

  "What is it
you really want from me?"

  "To know if you are the one, one worthy of carrying the Pauri Tao. For if you are not, you shall never enter this chamber."

  "Worthy?" Taylor asked.

  "Yes."

  He stopped and thought, trying to consider every possibility in his head. Almost fifteen minutes passed without a word from anyone as he tried to find the answer. He was starting to believe now that it could indeed be real, and that was only making him more desperate to lay his hands upon it.

  "I fight with your people for our very survival. We fight against the same evil you did, Bolormaa and her spawn."

  No response came.

  Taylor collapsed down onto his knees in desperation, still trying to think of a way.

  "Why have you come? You are not one of us."

  Taylor was shocked to hear it. He had expected only responses to his words, and not a prompt.

  Maybe there is more of Rua in there than just knowledge.

  "Why me, and not one of your own? Your people will not believe in you and the Pauri Tao, but I believe, and I will do anything in the hope of one day placing my hand on such a weapon."

  "Why? My people have no will to fight Bolormaa."

  "But I do," pleaded Taylor, "I will fight her with my own hands until I draw my very last breath. I will fight her with everything I have, and all that I am. I will give my life to end hers, because I know what evil she is."

  "Irala, he would not take up this weapon and fight?"

  "No, none of your people will, but they can be led back to the right path. They are desperate. But I am not. Give me this weapon, and let me use it for what you showed the universe it could do."

  "Do you have the convictions to fulfil this task?"

  "I do. I would give everything for one chance at ending the curse that is Bolormaa. I do not ask anyone to do this task for me. I only ask that you give me the chance to do with my own hands what I cannot without the Pauri Tao."

  Rua seemed to smile just a little, and then vanished.

  "Where are you going?"

  Taylor collapsed to his knees and screamed, "What more do you want from me?"

  But they soon heard a vast winding mechanism begin to turn, and the enormous wall began to part, revealing it was four metres thick. A tear came to his eye when he realised they had done it.