Battle Beyond Earth: Deception

by Thomas, Nick S.

  “Then what can I do to help?”

  “I need the whole team, and not just what we have taken so far. Maloney and Pitt, too.”

  Rivers didn’t look happy about it all, but he finally nodded in agreement.

  “You’ll have them.”

  He looked back to Rogers.

  “You up for this?”

  “I know enough about Jones to know he is worth fighting for, and where you go, I go, too.”

  “Then suit up. We don’t have much time.”

  * * *

  Jones and his team were led down a corridor flanked by a dozen armed guards on raised walkways on either side. They looked human in form, but they could not see their faces. They wore robes that reached almost to their feet, scaled armour on their torsos, and helmets environmentally sealed with just two small eyeholes.

  “Who the hell are they? They weapons look like something the Morohtans would use, and those symbols,” Sommer said, looking at the gold painted motifs on their clothing.

  “The mark of Bolormaa, they are her followers,” said Jones.

  “But they can’t be, they’re human.”

  “Yes, a cult who have given up everything in worship of their queen. They are fanatics.”

  “How do you know?” Turan asked.

  “Because this is not the first time I have seen their kind, but I had no idea they were so widespread.”

  “How do we not know about them?”

  “Sommer, when Taylor saved me from that hole, I was not in my right mind, and when I finally remembered details like this, nobody wanted to hear it. Do you know what kind of hysteria it would cause throughout humanity, to know that large swathes of humans were giving themselves up to the enemy in service of their Queen?”

  “I don’t care, you know what keeping those kind of secrets can do?”

  “Don’t be so naïve. Of course secrets are kept from the public. You’ll never win a war if people know the ugly truths that they wouldn’t ever want to know, given a choice.”

  “So you’re saying ignorance is bliss?”

  “It can be.”

  “Yeah? Well, ignorance is what got us into this mess, because nobody listened to the warnings.”

  “I can’t argue with that.”

  They were heading downhill, deeper and deeper underground. Lighting ran across the ceiling in front of them, and the tunnel had simple supports stretching ten metres up above them.

  “I don’t want to die down here,” she said.

  “Then don’t.”

  “I am sorry, I know you have been through this, and I saw a little of what that did.”

  “It didn’t break me, and it won’t break you either.”

  Eventually, they found themselves approaching an underground railroad.

  “Into the boxcar!” yelled one.

  There were three carriages waiting for them. They looked like they had been thrown together with the remnants of buildings from the colony.

  “What the hell is all this?”

  “It’s how you get about a world as hostile as this,” replied Jones as they crammed into the railcars. Their guards slammed the doors shut and locked them. They were soon set in motion.

  “What do we do?” Sommer asked.

  “What can we do?”

  Turan pushed against the wall of the car and cracked it opened slightly.

  “This thing cannot hold us.”

  “But where would we go?” asked Jones, “Even if we could get free of them, what would we do? We have no weapons, and no ship. I’d rather be down here biding our time than getting slaughtered on the surface by those creatures.”

  “And what will they do to us down here?”

  “Up there death is certain, so the odds cannot be any worse where we are going, can they?”

  Turan finally stopped pushing and gave in.

  “Why would they even save us?” he asked.

  “Maybe there is some humanity left in them still.”

  Jones shook his head. “I highly doubt that, Sommer.”

  “Then what will they do with us?”

  “It won’t be their decision to make. We’ll be going to someone or something above them to decide that.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No, it rarely is.”

  The train had increased to an incredibly pace, but several hours later they still had not reached their location.

  “Anyone who comes looking for us will have no idea where to look, will they? We could be on the other side of the planet.”

  “Yes, I think that is probably precisely where we are,” replied Jones.

  She waited for him to explain.

  “Anyone coming to this world would surely go to the abandoned colony site first to investigate the old stories, so if you were going to set something up here, wouldn’t you do so on the far side of the planet? If we’d just used our heads, we’d never have been caught up in all this.”

  “You couldn’t have known. None of us could. This was a crazy mission from the start. For all you know it was a trap laid and played out perfectly.”

  “It would be a very clever player to have meddled so successfully.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “He means that whoever is behind this is powerful and clever,” added Turan.

  “Yep, you got it,” replied Jones.

  Finally, the train drew to a close. It was both a relief and terrifying all at the same time, but more than anything, they were exhausted. Even though they had now escaped the Screamers, it felt like something, or someone else, was still deciding their fate. The doors slid open for them to find themselves at a tunnel, much like the one they had come in on, and a similar group of cultists waiting to meet them.

  “Out, come on!” yelled one of them from a platform that crossed over the two raised walkways either side.

  They did as ordered, knowing they didn’t have a choice.

  “We don’t have guns, but they do,” said Turan, ‘we could take them from them, then we would have guns.”

  Jones smiled. His friend’s optimism about simple things was amusing.

  “Nobody does anything, not unless I make the first move. Until we see a clear way out of here, doing anything is suicidal.”

  They were led through the dirt corridor for what felt like several kilometres before being ushered into what looked like an elevator. It was large enough that all of them could fit in, and stairs up and down led to the three storeys of whatever it was.

  “Where the hell are they taking us? What is this, some kind of prison?” Sommer asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  They were launched upwards before he had even finished speaking. The acceleration was massive, and within a few moments, they had launched into the sky and could see the jungles of the surface all around them. They went up and up without stopping.

  “I’ll be damned, a space elevator. Humanity messed around with these for years before no longer having use of them,” said Jones. And that was when it struck him, “My god, these cultists, they didn’t come here to join Bolormaa. They were already here.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “The colonists, they weren’t all killed. I am sure many were, but those humans that we saw, they are the colonists, or the descendants of those that managed to survive.”

  “What the hell are they doing serving Bolormaa?”

  “Who said they are?” Turan asked.

  As they passed through the atmosphere, they finally saw what they were heading for. A large space station, and a Morohtan warship docked beside it.

  “Look, the Attila!” Sommer yelled with glee.

  Jones didn’t know whether to take that as a good or a bad sign. He was glad to see the ship had made it as there was hope for the crew, and yet if they hadn’t made it out, who would know they were in trouble?

  “You think they got that distress call out?”

  “Sure they did, Sommer.”

  He only said it
because the alternative was too horrifying to think of. They kept on going up and up, eventually slowing as they reached the station. Jones felt a darkness overcoming him as he thought of the prospect of facing the enemy in captivity once more. It had almost broken him once, and as much as he resolved to not let it happen again, he really didn’t know how much more he could take. The elevator finally ground to a halt, and the doors opened. A hundred of the cultists were lined up waiting for them, and at the centre five Morohtan warriors, as well as one of their officers.

  “Come!” yelled the officer.

  Jones went first. No matter how terrified he was, he wasn’t going to give them the pleasure of seeing it, nor getting any enjoyment from it. But as they approached, the Morohtans parted, and a sight which he could not help but be terrified of came into view; a Prince, living and breathing, and standing tall before him.

  “William Jones,” the creature growled with a smile as if intimately familiar with him.

  Jones felt his heart sink.

  “Which son of that whore are you?” he asked.

  The creature didn’t even rise to the occasion.

  “I am Altantsetseg.”

  “That’s a mouthful, am I expected to remember it?”

  “You may call me Altan, but only so that you remember the name of who encompassed your doom.”

  “I’ve met plenty of your kind, and I am still standing.”

  “Yes, we shall have to remedy that.”

  “How many of your kind are there, anyway?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’d like to know how many of you we need to kill. I’d like to keep count.”

  Once more the creature did not rise to the occasion, but everybody knew who held the power there.

  “Once there were more than two hundred of my kin, a long time ago.”

  “And now?”

  The creature smiled as if enjoying the torment of him not knowing.

  “It amuses me that you think you will take some information away from this encounter. If I permit you to live, it will only be to present you to my Queen, should I find you worthy.”

  “And what if I do not find you worthy?”

  “Your insults are hollow. A threat made without substance means nothing to me.”

  “That’s a shame, as I can keep them going all day.”

  “Walk with me,” said the Prince.

  He stepped aside and gestured for Jones to go on. He thought about it for a moment but soon realised he really had no choice at all. He was surprised he was even still alive, but he also knew how Bolormaa like to play with her prey. His torment would go on for as long as his captors could make it, but that gave him hope, too. Hope that some help might find him. He at least wanted to get the first word in.

  “The humans here, they are from the colonists that landed here all that time ago, aren’t they?”

  “Humans came to this world to thrive. What they found was suffering, and when they needed your precious Alliance, it was nowhere to be found. It took one day for them to pledge their Allegiance to my Queen, and now they can once again be among the stars. You abandoned them, and like so many others before them, Bolormaa has given them hope.”

  “Hope? What hope is a life of servitude?”

  “Most would choose servitude over death, only a fool would not.”

  “And that’s why you’ll never understand humanity. These twisted individuals might have signed up to fight for you, but humanity would rather die than live as slaves.”

  Jones had been so enthralled and cautious at the same time of the Prince that he had not noticed the line of cells along the one wall. He spotted Roworth inside and nodded in recognition of him.

  “It amuses me that you could ever believe you would defeat a being as all powerful as Bolormaa, and yet I know how much it pleases her to toy with you.”

  “She is a sick son of a bitch, no doubt.”

  “I’ll be sure to tell her as much when I see her next.”

  “You do that, and I’ll be sure to repeat it when I see her myself.”

  “I am curious,” he said, stopping by a large display window. It looked out across the world that had cost them so many lives, “What is it that you value so much about these freedoms you believe you have? So much so, that you would die for them? Bolormaa asks for your servitude, and yet you already give it freely. That uniform, is that not servitude?”

  “No, I chose to put this on, and I wear it with pride.”

  “And the conscripts that are being drafted across so many of your worlds, did they choose your life, too?”

  Jones didn’t much like having his words twisted. He wanted to lash out but was powerless to do so.

  “If humanity were to submit to Bolormaa, she would put them to the lash. She would slaughter, or send us to slaughter for her own entertainment.”

  “Yes, but you already do that of your own accord. At least serving in the most powerful armies in the universe would give you a chance of winning, and surviving.”

  “You know I hear all this talk about how wonderful and amazing your Queen is, and yet I rarely see much evidence of it. Seems to me like the rest of you do the hard work while she watches from the sidelines.”

  “Did she not defeat your greatest champion?”

  “Taylor is just one man. That is no great feat. Humanity is strong together.”

  Altan smiled.

  “Humanity will be Bolormaa’s greatest conquest. Do you know why?”

  He shook his head.

  “Because your willpower defies belief, and the day she has broken it, will be the day she has won this war, and the day of her greatest success.”

  “I don’t see how you can get any enjoyment in that, nor her.”

  “That is because you are small and weak. Petty humans, your life is but a spec in the existence of the universe.”

  “Yep, but we sure do make the most of it.”

  Altan looked across to the Krys captives, and Sommer who stood amongst them, as if deciding what to do with them.

  “Kill them. Kill them all,” he declared coldly.

  “No!” Jones yelled.

  Even as he said it, an explosion rang out behind Sommer. It was large enough that she and Turan were launched off of their feet. Through the breach came four figures in the AR2 suits. They fired on the move with shields up, but their guns made almost no sound. The first few shots bounced from the armour of a Morohtan, but the next few pierced at its head and neck, knocking it down. The figures stormed past and knocked another over, but didn’t stop for the others as the human cultists opened fire.

  Out of the breach came the thunder of something large, and Babacan in the Guardian suit leapt over Turan and Sommer who were still on the floor in shock. He ran into the centre of the Morohtan warriors and stomped one flat to the ground. A blade extended from his right arm and skewed another. A Gatling gun on his arm fired on the remaining two and cut them down. He then turned it on the cultists.

  Turan was on his feet in a shot and helped Sommer up as they ran into the crowd. Turan grabbed the first by the head and snapped its neck, grabbing his rifle as it fell. He held it by the muzzle and smashed it across another’s face so that his neck was broken, too. He turned the rifle around and opened fire. Sommer took a glancing hit to her arm on the way in. She shrugged it off, and it only served to make her more angry and determined. She slid under the rifle of her attacker, punching him full force to the groin.

  The impact was so painful that the man lost the grip of his rifle, and it dropped down so that the weapon was vertical. She pulled his head forward over the muzzle and pulled the trigger. The back of his head was blown off, and blood splattered over her face. She snatched the rifle from his dead hand and turned it on the rest. She watched in amazement as Babacan ran through the crowd of them. She had no idea it was him. He kicked, stabbed, and shot them as though he were running through ants.

  Many were running now, and the few dozen that could, made it into the sp
ace elevator, but Sommer wasn’t happy to let them escape. She looked around at the bodies by her feet and noticed two grenades on the belt of one of them. She snatched one from the body and primed it as she ran towards the door, holding up her shield as several shots glanced off. The doors began to close. She’d never make it and so primed the grenade, launching it with all her strength. It hit the ground in front of the door and slipped through just as they sealed shut. She could see the look of panic in the body language of those inside for a brief second before the elevator began its rapid descent.

  She rushed to the clear glass windows that looked down towards the surface and smiled as the elevator exploded. The cable was cut, and it began to collapse towards the atmosphere. She’d never wanted to deal out pain so much in her life, nor imagined that she would enjoy it so much. She looked back to see the Krys tearing the cultists apart. Some were literally taking limb from limb. One took an arm from one and beat another with it. They were humans, and yet she felt no sympathy for them at all.

  The room soon fell silent, and only Altan was left alive. He was standing defiantly beside Jones, but he seemed to make no effort to take him hostage. One of the armoured suit-wearing figures, who they did not realise was Taylor, approached the Prince.

  “An impressive display, if it were not mere humans that you had to fight,” declared Altan.

  Taylor strode up and stopped three metres short of the Prince. Jones couldn’t make out who it was, nor understand why he was not afraid of the creature beside him.

  “You would risk your life to save these people, and now it will cost you yours,” said Altan.

  He pulled out what looked like a small staff, but it extended out to three metres in length. Two electrified blades sprung out at each end. Taylor didn’t look impressed and drew out his Assegai, but didn’t even bother with his shield. The Prince rushed at him with a deafening scream. Taylor remained calmly where he was until the final moment, a split second before his head would have been cut in two by the mightiest and quickest of cuts.

  In that final moment, he leapt aside and cut down against the weapon with his own and split it in two. In a second motion, he flicked his weapon back towards the creature, activating the extension of the Assegai that caused it to shoot through Altan’s neck. He retracted the blade, and the Prince slumped down gargling and trying to breathe.