Battle Beyond Earth - Box Set (Books 1-5)

by Nick S. Thomas

  "The only thing we can."

  BATTLE BEYOND EARTH 2: INSURRECTION

  By Nick S. Thomas

  Copyright © 2015 by Nick S. Thomas

  Published by Swordworks Books

  Prologue

  It is the early days of the 26th century, and Colonel Mitch Taylor is an anachronistic war veteran desperately trying to survive a new war that he never could have imagined. He is a 22nd century war hero brought back in the Alliance’s greatest hour of need.

  The Krys invasions of Earth have long been forgotten by all but the few elders who lived through them, and the Aranui, whose life span far exceeds any other known life form. Their two races, with the Humans had lived in peace for hundreds of years, alongside the newly discovered Cholan Empire.

  That was until a terrifying new threat emerged, an enemy from the past, an alien race that almost brought an end to all other known life in the universe. The Morohta, a highly advanced matriarchal society led by the infamous Bolormaa, and an undefeated scourge. With their fleets cutting a path through the Alliance, and encountering little effective resistance, it soon became apparent the Alliance could not hold out against this powerful and ancient enemy.

  In response, Taylor accompanied a fleet to the Morohta navigational hub in an attempt to block the enemy’s travel to Alliance territory and buy them some much-needed time. The mission was a success; despite the high price paid in lives and ships. The Morohta were cut off for as much as a year, time that was desperately needed to fend off their next campaign.

  The Alliance had suffered badly at the hands of Bolormaa's fleets, but no more so than the Cholan Empire; who through desperation and a will to survive, turned their backs on the Alliance in their greatest moment of need, a fact Taylor would seemingly never forgive them. Knowing this, the Cholan fleet arrives to launch a pre-emptive strike against the Alliance and win the war in the name of the Morohta. President Isaacs, leader of the Alliance, has been given a one-hour ultimatum to surrender to the Cholan Admiral Eme, commander of the most powerful flagship of the Alliance.

  Was the mission to Morohta space all for nothing? Will the Alliance destroy itself even before the ancient enemy can return to finish the job they started? The future of the Alliance and free peoples now hangs in the balance, and there is just one hour left to turn the tide.

  Chapter 1

  The bridge was silent. President Isaacs was grey in the face and staring at the screen before him with an utterly blank expression. Many of the officers around Taylor were looking at one another in horror and shock. Nobody knew what to do and waited for the President to respond with some solution, but it never came.

  "What can we do?" Jones whispered.

  "We sure as hell aren't surrendering," replied Taylor rather loudly.

  "I don't see any other course of action available to us," replied Cohen.

  Taylor shook his head. He couldn't believe they were willing to give up so easily.

  "You know the power of the Nakbe, Colonel. If we do not surrender, we will all be lost, and still the Alliance will have to surrender."

  Taylor shook his head once again. He ignored the Commander and turned to the President, knowing he had the last word in this grave situation.

  "If you surrender to them, then all is lost."

  "You would rather us die than lay down arms?" Isaacs asked.

  "I didn't say anything about dying. I never throw any lives away needlessly. I intend to fight, and if you will not fight with me, then this war truly is already lost."

  "Look at it," added Cohen, "Just look at her for a moment," she said to Taylor, pointing to the mammoth vessel on the screens.

  "I don't need to look."

  "Look at her!" Cohen insisted.

  He was exasperated and desperate.

  "Do you know why I don't need to?"

  Cohen shook her head as the President replied, "Go on, Colonel."

  "I don't need to look because I don't need to know what horrors we face, for I have faced more than I care to remember. Never tell me the odds. If I had listened to the odds, I would not be here before you today. In fact, you probably wouldn't even be alive to tell me them. I have faced world-ending ships and creatures that want to tear me apart. Are they terrifying? Yes. But it is our job to stand up and fight those terrors. That is what we do!"

  "All just words," replied Cohen, "Sentiment and dreams that you cannot hope to fulfil. This ends in death or surrender, which will you have Mr President?"

  "What will happen if we surrender?" asked Isaacs.

  Taylor looked to Irala as the only source of information in the room.

  "Those who surrendered to the Morohta were never seen again," he replied solemnly.

  "But we would not be surrendering to the Morohta, but to the Cholan Empire."

  "Their puppets," Jafar added.

  "What do you think Lord Jafar?"

  Jafar grunted before responding to the President.

  "If you surrender now, everything is over; the Alliance, our freedom, and probably our lives, soon enough. I will not surrender, and if you do, then this Alliance is over."

  Taylor smiled in response. It was the strong backbone and fighting spirit he had always come to expect from his old friend.

  "You would fight and condemn us all?" Cohen asked.

  Jafar simply nodded in return and refused to be drawn into an argument. He looked around, noting Taylor had stepped up to the display screens and was studying the images of the Nakbe. It angered Cohen, after the Colonel had refused to do just that when she had asked him to do so.

  "There are no weaknesses. You cannot take on that Capitol ship, not now. Look at our fleet," she said, pointing to the dispersed mix of ships, many of which were still undergoing repairs.

  "Get me aboard that ship, and I will bring a stop to this."

  Taylor looked down at his console to look at the time they had left.

  "Board her? Have you lost your mind?"

  "Fifty-five minutes, that is all the time we have left. Might well be the last fifty-five minutes of our lives, so let's make them count."

  Cohen turned away from him and rushed back up to the President.

  "Sir, I must ask that you bring a stop to this. The Colonel is endangering all our lives."

  "You do not command this fleet," added Sarik. He had been lurking in the background. He walked right past Cohen and stopped before Taylor.

  "What can we do?"

  "Get me and my team aboard that ship, and we will shut her down. The rest of them are your problem."

  "Your Immortals? How many of you? Twenty men? What can you do with twenty men?"

  Taylor turned furiously to Cohen and grabbed her by the collar. She froze and looked terrified.

  "We've been through plenty together already, Commander. I have a lot of respect for you, and you have come through for me in the past. Don't fail me now. We need you to be strong. I need the Commander of the Guam that saw us through the battles of yesterday. You may not like this situation, but it is beyond our control. All we can do is stand up and fight, and keep fighting. Will you stand with me?"

  Cohen looked to the President, and he simply nodded.

  "Okay...okay."

  "Fifty-two minutes," replied Taylor, "That is all we have."

  "Then let's do this right," replied Cohen.

  He let go of the Commander and turned to address all on the bridge.

  "Who can get me and my team aboard that ship in the next thirty minutes?"

  "Any ship movement will be seen as a threat," Irala said.

  "And you think they will fire on us?"

  "You saw the Admiral, Mr President. They are desperate, and desperate men do desperate things," replied Jafar.

  "No shit," Taylor said, thinking about the mission they were about to embark upon.

  "So how are we going to do this?"

  "Commander, do we have any vessels that can approach without being detected?"

  Before she could answer he turne
d to Irala, remembering the cloaking technology some of their vessels used.

  "My shuttle can get you close, but not close enough. Even the best technology we have will still be detected by the Nakbe's systems once she is within a two hundred metres."

  "Okay, that's a start. We just have to make it those extra few metres..."

  He looked to Jones who was already shaking his head.

  "No, no, no, no. No way we can jump it!"

  "Why not? The suits can take it. We've got boosters for adjustments. Tell me one good reason why we can't."

  "Because it's crazy."

  "Come up with a better plan in the next two minutes, and we'll go for it. Gear up, and meet me at Irala's shuttle. Alita, have my kit ready for me."

  Both of them nodded in agreement and quickly left.

  "With the Nakbe taken out of this fight, can you handle what's left, Sarik?"

  "It is a large fleet," he replied.

  "But they are a weak race," added Jafar, "They will soon turn tail when pushed."

  "Morale, that is their weakness? You are telling me they have no stomach for a fight? No staying power?"

  "They do not."

  Taylor looked to the centre of the Cholan fleet. Two identical heavy cruisers flanked the Nakbe. After the flagship, they were by far the largest vessels in the fleet.

  "Then when you get my signal, you target those two, and only those two."

  "But the rest of the fleet, the support craft, fighters, they'll tear us apart."

  "Not if you break their will, Commander."

  Jafar smiled at the prospect.

  "Keep them busy. Arrange for the surrender on neutral ground aboard a shuttle far from here, enough to keep them distracted."

  "You want to use me as bait?"

  "No, Mr President, you stay put, but root all messages through your shuttle that will head out to those coordinates. Have a few ships join the shuttle, too. Make it look good and convincing. We want all their attention on that."

  "And you think this will work?"

  Taylor shrugged.

  "As much as we can ever know anything. With the three most powerful vessels in the fleet destroyed or disabled, the rest will be terrified. We don't need to destroy this fleet; we just need to make them run."

  He turned to leave when Cohen yelled out.

  "What will your signal be?"

  "You'll know it when you see it."

  He rushed out and sprinted for the docking bays. The shuttle was loaded and engines already running as he dashed aboard. Fifteen of his Immortals were inside, all that could fit. Alita was at the door with his equipment. He pulled on his suit as they lifted off.

  "Everyone know what the plan is?"

  "Kill the bad guys?" asked Antos in a comic tone.

  "Fucking ey," replied Taylor.

  He took his seat as he pulled on his helmet and made the last adjustments to his equipment. He released the lower shroud that locked onto the suit, sealing all but his visor that was still retracted.

  "Think this can be done?"

  "Wouldn't be going if I didn't believe it could, Alita," he replied confidently.

  "Sure you're not just a dreamer?"

  Taylor smiled at Jones.

  "Yeah, maybe. But I'm not dead yet."

  "You've come pretty close enough times," she joked.

  "Close? Who cares about close?"

  Jones shrugged at his recklessness, but it was also warming to know he was unwavering and confident.

  "These Cholans, are they really as pathetic as they look? Look like school kids that could be snapped between our fingers," said Taylor.

  "They are physically weak, but their technology is formidable. However, they have almost no capacity or stomach for close in fighting. The Cholans stay at a distance and fight at a distance."

  "That's what I like to hear," Taylor replied, checking his Assegai to make sure it was secure and ready to go.

  "You got a plan here?"

  "Funnily enough, Jones, yes. You know the best way to disable a ship?"

  "Power and command?"

  Taylor looked impressed.

  "I've studied your exploits well enough to know how you would do it."

  "Kiss ass," replied Alita.

  Had it been anyone else, he'd have taken offence, but Jones smiled at her jibe.

  "He's right, though. We take down the power, and we seize the bridge, simultaneously. Either target will result in success. If both come through, we gain control of the ship."

  "And that is doable with just fifteen of us?"

  "With the element of surprise, and some balls of solid steel, yeah," he replied with a smile, "Jones, take seven, your job is to get to the engines. You hear any weapon systems start firing or engines ignite without hearing from me first, you take the whole fucking thing offline, you hear?"

  "Right."

  "Alita, you're with me."

  He shook his head, remembering the betrayal they had faced from the Cholans when they needed them most.

  "I can't wait to get my hands on that bastard Eme. I just want to get a grip on his throat and snap his goddamn spine."

  "You know they could be our allies yet, if we can get them back on side? No need to burn all our bridges."

  Taylor shook his head.

  "We were betrayed once, never again," he said with spite and anger.

  Ten minutes went past as they closed in on the Cholan vessel. There were no windows in the hull of the shuttle, not even in the cockpit. It was piloted by one of the Guardians, who finally spoke to them. It was Irala who was clearly in direct charge of the formidable avatar.

  "You remember the layout of the Nakbe?"

  Taylor and Jones both nodded. "Well enough," Taylor answered.

  "This is as far as I can take you, good luck."

  "From now on, as far as the comms are concerned, you talk as if we're a maintenance crew aboard one of those crippled ships out there. Anyone who intercepts our signals won't give it a second thought. Remember that, okay?"

  They all nodded in agreement. Taylor hit the switch that lowered his visor, and it locked down under his chin. It was so close fitting his nose was almost touching the Perspex. The overlapping plates were in direct contact with his neck, and he felt them dig in slightly as he moved his neck from side to side. It was a claustrophobic, but he appreciated the dexterity and slimline design. He checked around to see that everyone was ready, but Irala had already done so, and the cabin began to depressurise. He felt the weightlessness, but his boots soon detected the shift and clamped down onto the floor to hold him in place.

  He took a step forward to the door and marvelled at the horror before him. The imposing enemy vessel filled their view, and he could not help but feel exposed. He expected to be hit by a hail of gunfire at any moment.

  "Would be a nice sight... if they weren't, you know, the enemy," stated Jones.

  Taylor sighed.

  "What's up?" Alita asked.

  "Why, oh why, is it always me? Always me volunteering to get my head blown off?"

  "Because nobody else ever does."

  He turned to see that she was not being sarcastic as he would be. She said it with a sense of pride, and that instantly made him feel more confident about the whole situation. He looked down at the console on his arm. Twenty-five minutes left. He reached around for his suppressor and locked it onto the barrel shroud of his rifle; the others followed suit.

  "Remember, only short bursts or the baffles will be fried," added Jones.

  "Yep, can't waste any more time. You good to go?" asked Taylor.

  He nodded, gritting his teeth as he looked at the monstrous vessel they faced. That was enough for Taylor. He pushed off from the doorway, using only a short boost on his suit. It was enough to put him on course. Alita zoomed up beside him with a small amount of forward thrust to match his speed.

  "You confident we can make this happen?"

  "Of course. Done it enough times before."

  "R
eally?" she asked in doubt, "This big a job?"

  "Haven't you read his file? No job is too big."

  "Once again, kissing ass, hey, Captain?"

  Jones smiled, but could see it settled the rest of them, including Alita.

  Taylor couldn't help but feel sentimental. Once again, he was going into combat with a Jones and the woman he loved. Charlie and Eli were always in the back of his mind, and he would give anything to have them back. For a moment he fell into a hazy dreamlike state and imagined it was in fact those two beside him. They might as well have been, for it felt like he had done this hundreds of times before.

  "You okay?" a voice asked him.

  It sounded like Eli, but he knew it couldn't be. He looked over to see Alita assessing him as they still soared towards the Nakbe. He looked at her for a few seconds in silence before finally snapping out of it, and nodded in response. As he did so, he noticed they were passing an enemy ship of frigate size and one of the support fleet for the Nakbe. They could only hope they would not be spotted passing through space as nothing more than a few small speckles of debris.

  They all knew nobody would be crazy enough to attempt such a seemingly futile and dangerous assault, and yet that was exactly why it could work. No one would say it, though. Taylor pointed for Jones to break off and head to the aft of the vessel.

  "Let me know when you've got things under control."

  The two groups separated. Taylor looked around; it was just the seven of them now.

  Seven to take down the most powerful ship in the Alliance.

  It brought a smile to his face. It was a challenge allowed him to take his mind away from the greater threat of the Morohta, or the loss he still felt for the ones he had left behind. He activated his boosters and rotated so that he was approaching the hull feet first, using the power to slow pace rapidly. He landed gently on a flat section of the hull, and his boots immediately latched on to hold him in place. The others landed smoothly around him. He sighed in relief that they had made it, and then looked at the time once again. He pressed a button, and it brought up map information of their position in relation to detailed diagrams of the hull.