Battle Beyond Earth: Survival

by Thomas, Nick S.

  Taylor spat out in defiance, but once again felt the lash against his back, and this time it reached the back of his head and cut deeply.

  “You have no authority! Jafar is your Lord!”

  Once more the lash hit him, and his strength began to fail. He wanted to keep on fighting and kept telling himself that he must.

  “Taylor. Lord Karadag knew what a monster you were, but his one mistake was to be lenient towards you. He lowered his guard and let you take advantage. You are a deceitful and dishonest man, and you will pay the price for your crimes in blood!”

  He shouted something in his own tongue that sounded aggressive, and it pleased the crowd as they cheered. Taylor’s bonds withdrew, and he fell to the dirt as he was released. He quickly gained his balance and rose to his feet. He looked around for the creature that had been torturing him, but a doorway opposite the first he had seen was sealing shut. The posts he had been lashed to were lowering into the ground so that he was left alone in the arena.

  Taylor spun around looking for some way out, but there was none. He was stripped to the waist and had no weapons of any kind. The crowd began to stamp as one, as if beating on a collective drum. The gateway he first saw opened up. A single Krys stepped out and then the gateway shut. He was unarmed and unarmoured, the same as Taylor.

  “One? What is this, a joke?” Taylor asked, laughing.

  “A criminal who is condemned to die, just like you, Taylor. You will fight for our amusement.”

  “And if we don’t?”

  “Win, and you live a little longer. Die, and you are released from your wretched existence. But if you refuse to fight, you will both be executed where you stand!”

  As he said it, four Krys guards rose up from the sidelines with pulse cannons in their hands. They were fully armoured as if ready for war.

  “Good deal,” said Taylor sarcastically.

  The convict in front of him had understood the message clearly, let out a roar, and ran towards him like a raging bull. Taylor ducked under as the alien swung for him clumsily, but as he hunched, the pain soared through his back. He didn’t get as low as he’d hoped, and the creature’s fist skimmed his hair as it went past.

  That was too close!

  There was no time to recover. Once again the Krys rushed at him, but it didn’t make the same mistake twice. It threw shorter, straight punches. He put up his hands and dodged the first and parried the second, lashing out with a quick punch to the creature’s face. The blow landed hard against the creature that was half a metre taller than him. It was a surprise to both of them.

  He remembered having to fight Krys warriors with his bare hands in the early days of the first war, and it was never this easy. He knew his body had been improved when he was brought back from the dead, but he never realised how much until now. Fighting the Morohtan had been a whole different ball game. With a newfound confidence and strength, he went forward against the creature. He punched it to the stomach twice until it lowered its arms, and he delivered a powerful blow that snapped its head across.

  The Krys convict tried to come forward and grapple with him, but he had a solid hold and launched it against the wall. It became impaled on one of many metal spikes that had risen from the walls without either of them noticing. The creature let out a cry in pain, pulled itself off, and came forward with a clumsy but powerful blow.

  Taylor slipped past the blow, took a solid hold on the Krys’ neck, and snapped it in one. He released his grip, and it slumped down dead to the ground into the pool of blood that was already there. Now he knew where it had come from. This was a fight arena for the amusement of Cakir and his associates.

  “I guess that isn’t how you intended this to go down!” he yelled, looking at all the faces above him. They were more than a little surprised by his strength. The truth was he’d surprised himself. He hadn’t fought a real fight outside of an exo suit in a long time, and even then only against much more powerful enemies. He began to laugh.

  “I can do this all day, what else have you got for me? How many of your kind do I have to kill for you to be entertained?”

  Cakir’s face was a blank page, and Taylor didn’t know what to make of it but soon realised he had spoken too soon. The gate withdrew once again, and two Krys convicts stepped out to face him.

  “Begin!” Cakir ordered.

  Taylor stood his ground, took in some air while he could to calm his breathing, and let them come to him. He heard the sounds of the crowd cheering above him. He couldn’t understand their language and the things they were shouting, but he didn’t need to, it was pretty clear what they were here to see. The two Krys came at him simultaneously, but he moved off to one side so that they were inline to him, and only one could reach him for a brief moment. He kicked to its knee and snapped the joint with one powerful blow. It keeled over as its leg gave out.

  The other was on him in seconds and delivered a power knee to his stomach that threw him back against the wall of the arena. He landed between two spikes, narrowly missing one of them. He gasped at the realisation that only luck had saved him from certain death. He pushed himself off the wall and ran at the creature. He passed under its arms and took a hold of its torso. In one move he spun it a full one hundred and eighty degrees and dropped it on its head. The sound of its neck snapping was music to Taylor’s ears, and he held onto the Krys’ legs for a moment so that he could look at Cakir’s face, enjoying the look of disappointment that he showed.

  Finally, he let the body slump to the ground as he noticed the other one crawling towards him. It wasn’t able to get back up on its badly broken leg, but it still came for him. He didn’t even pause for a moment to wonder if these Krys deserved death. It was kill or be killed. He kicked it hard in the head. The motion knocked it off balance, and it crashed down to the ground. He took it in a chokehold, holding on tight until it went limp, and he tossed the body aside.

  Taylor had never felt so strong in his life. He wondered what had been put inside him to bring him back to life, but he was glad of it. He was able to throw Krys around as though they were nothing more than raw recruits fresh out of college.

  “This doesn’t impress me!” he roared, “I don’t enjoy killing your kind, but I will kill any who try to hurt me or those I care about. It doesn’t matter how many you send, me or one of mine, will end you before this is over!”

  Cakir didn’t show any emotion at all. He didn’t even seem particularly surprised by the things he had seen. He was completely cold.

  “Not going to plan?” Taylor asked, taunting him.

  The gate soon opened once again, and three Krys stepped out to square off against him.

  * * *

  “We’re almost there,” said Sommer.

  She was following an old dirty paper map held in her hands and trying to make sense of the ruins of the city. She stopped as she took a bend and pointed.

  “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” replied Babacan.

  “You are sure?”

  “Yes,” added Turan.

  “This is not the first of its kind that I have seen,” said Babacan.

  They were looking at a tall column structure sheltered between two skyscrapers. It was not human of origin.

  “So this is how they are jamming communications?” asked Sommer.

  “It is like the technology that our people use, just better,” stated Babacan.

  “We take this out and we can regroup the Regiment,” said Turan.

  “And then what?”

  “We go after Taylor,” said Babacan as if surprised there could be any other option.

  “He would have wanted us to go on fighting, that is why he came here, remember?”

  “We came here to serve Colonel Taylor, and we will continue to do that wherever he is. It is not my job to understand his intentions or ambitions, only to keep him safe. We failed, but there is time to save him yet.”

  “How can you be so sure?”

  “Becau
se he is the Dusmus Kahraman, and his story is not finished yet,” replied Babacan.

  “Oh, come on, don’t tell me you believe that. We all know Lord Jafar doesn’t even believe that himself.”

  “You are wrong,” replied Turan sternly.

  He pushed her back against a wall aggressively as if deeply offended by what she had said.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. I am just saying Taylor would want us to go on with the mission.”

  Turan released his grip of her, but she looked genuinely concerned about how he was turning.

  “You came here to fight with us, not just Taylor,” she pleaded.

  “This Regiment is Colonel Taylor. He is what got your people through the wars with ours. He is what brought peace, and he is what will defeat Bolormaa. He is more important than any of us,” replied Turan.

  Babacan was taken aback, not even he realised how strong his kinsman’s bonds and loyalty were to Taylor.

  “One thing at a time, as Taylor would say,” added Babacan.

  They both turned to him for advice now. He seemed to have filled Taylor’s shoes as much as anyone could, and yet he didn’t even hold rank over them, but they knew Taylor would have wanted that, and that was enough for them.

  “What is the plan?” Turan asked.

  “The column doesn’t look too well protected from here. They’re relying on its location to protect it from view.”

  “Yeah, well, it’s worked pretty well till now.”

  “That thing is shielded, and we can’t take it out from here. We’re a long way from our lines, so we get in and out quickly,” said Babacan.

  “How quickly?”

  “A few minutes and they will be onto us. We don’t have a lot of the night left, so let’s use it while we can. We approach covertly, just the three of us. We place charges, and we’re out of there before they know it, and before the sun comes up. With any luck, we’ll have comms back up and we can be on our way.”

  “To get Taylor?”

  “If we can find him.”

  “If we have to search the length of the universe, we’ll find him,” said Turan.

  Turan looked to the rest of the platoon and yelled some orders that Sommer didn’t understand, but Sergeant Ness crept up close with an inquisitive look about him.

  “What is the plan, Lieutenant?”

  “The plan is you stay put with these guys.”

  “Where are you going?”

  Her eyes pointed towards their target.

  “What the hell is that?”

  “Just stay here. You’ll know soon enough.”

  The three of them set off into the night without another word. Sommer was terrified, and it made it all the more terrifying because Babacan and Turan were not bothered at all by the risk that lay ahead.

  * * *

  Jones awoke screaming at the top of his lungs. He was in a panic as he thrashed around. He picked up his bed and threw it across the room. Two marines rushed in and tried to hold him down, but he lashed out and punched one in the nose and threw the other against the wall.

  “It’s not safe here. This isn’t real. None of it is real!” he screamed.

  A doctor ran into the room as the marines went back at the Captain.

  “Stand down!” he balled.

  One marine was bleeding, and the other looked just as annoyed.

  “You can’t save him. He’s gone,” snapped one of them.

  “Get out!” ordered the doctor.

  They grumbled as they left. The doctor stayed well clear of Jones, who had collapsed down into the corner of the room.

  “Do you know where you are, Captain?”

  He shook his head.

  “I’ll never tell. I’ll never tell you anything.”

  His eyes were wide, and he had a crazed look upon his face.

  “You are aboard the Independence. The ship entrusted to your Regiment by General Greer. Do you remember General Greer?”

  He shook his head again.

  “I don’t know. I won’t tell you. I won’t tell you!”

  The doctor looked exhausted by the whole process, but still he pressed onwards.

  “You are safe now. You were a prisoner of Bolormaa, Queen of the Morohtans, but not anymore. You were rescued. Rescued by Colonel Mitch Taylor, do you remember Taylor?”

  “Yes, yes I remember Taylor. He is coming for me. He is coming to set me free.”

  The doctor sighed. He just couldn’t find a way to get through to Jones.

  “Do you remember your name?”

  “Captain William Jones, you know my name.”

  “You are safe here. You are amongst friends.”

  ‘Then let me go. Let me out of this place. If I am home, then I am free to walk out of here.”

  “I am sorry, Captain, but I cannot allow that. You are danger to yourself and others.”

  “Then I am not home, and you are not my friend. I will never tell,” he said as he began to weep.

  The doctor wished he could find a way to help Jones, but it seemed impossible.

  * * *

  Taylor felt the wind knocked out of him as a kick landed against his chest. He was launched through the air and crashed back down in the dirt. The disgusting flavour of the dust hit his lungs, and he coughed it back out as he climbed back onto one knee, trying to get air back into his lungs. One of the Krys kicked towards his face, but he took hold of the creature’s foot before it managed to reach his head and snapped its ankle.

  Another was on him before he could finish the wounded Krys. He kicked into its stomach, running into it like a battering ram, and driving it onto a spike on the wall. A fist was coming for his face, but he sidestepped, and yanked the creature onto another of the spikes.

  He was angry now and letting the hatred flow through his veins. He wanted nothing more than to kill Cakir with his bare hands, and he was determined to live long enough to see the day that it happened. He stepped over to the wounded Krys and stamped on its head three times until it stopped moving.

  “I have lived through worse things than you, Cakir!” he cried, “I am going to kill you before this is over, and that is a promise!”

  The crowd seemed to be enjoying every minute, even though he was the one still standing. Cakir didn’t seem bothered by it either, and it seemed like he was just being taken down slowly. His ribs were bruised, and blood dripped from his right ear and eye. He was getting slower and more tired as each fight went on. He was determined to keep it up but didn’t know how much longer he could. He needed to know someone was coming to help, that there was some determinate amount of time he had to keep going, and yet there seemed no hope of rescue.

  He thought back to when Cakir had tricked him. Nobody knew where he had gone or who had taken him. Even if they had the resources to do so, there was no help coming because nobody knew where to look. Taylor was staring death in the face and smiling back. He had been down this road so many times before, and somehow he always came out on top.

  Dusmus Kahraman.

  He kept telling himself that is who he was.

  Jafar had to be right. I can’t die.

  He knew it was wishful thinking at best, and crazy speak more like, but he had to hold onto something. The thought of dying in such a disgusting pit, and in such awful company didn’t bare thinking about. That is what kept him going. The caged door opened once again, and four Krys stepped into the arena.

  “How very original,” said Taylor.

  The first of them let out a loud war cry as it ran at him.

  * * *

  “This is it,” said Sommer. They ducked in behind some cover and looked at the base of the jamming column, “How do you want to do this?”

  “We cannot use guns. They are too loud. We do not know what other enemy elements are in the area,” replied Babacan, and he drew out his Assegai.

  That only terrified Sommer further. Drawing blood in close combat made her feel sick, even the thought of it, and being withou
t a firearm to rely on entirely vulnerable, but the other two seemed insistent. She knew that they were right.

  “If you don’t like killing, why did you become a marine?” Babacan asked.

  She looked surprised to even be asked.

  “I didn’t sign up to kill people. I signed up to help defend others.”

  “Same thing.”

  “No, it isn’t. Just because we have to kill sometimes, that doesn’t mean we have to enjoy it.”

  “Unless you want to go crazy.”

  “He is right. There is no room for weakness in this work,” added Turan.

  “Not wanting to kill is not a weakness.”

  “It is when it prevents you from doing your job,” said Babacan.

  She knew he was right about that, too. She’d hesitated the day before and didn’t want to join in a killing spree, and yet she saw the lives that were saved by that killing.

  “I really don’t know how you do it.”

  “Because we don’t have a choice.”

  She didn’t look comfortable with that response.

  “You know who Taylor is, and all he has achieved in his life time, yes?”

  She nodded an acknowledgement to Babacan.

  “Taylor doesn’t hesitate. Hesitating gets you killed, and it is us or them.”

  “Not always, Taylor fought your people and allied with them later.”

  “There is a time for talk, but that is not now.”

  “We are depending on you down there. I need to know you have our backs.”

  “You do. I know what has to be done.”

  “Then let’s go. We stick together and work our way to our target, set the charges, and get out. We don’t have long.”

  The first glimmer of light was on the horizon. They climbed out from cover, clung as close to the ground as they could, and moved towards the enemy device. There were three guards on duty that they could see. Two were drones, and the third a Morohtan warrior. Babacan led the way. He rushed up beside the cover of a crashed fighter and waited as one of the drones went past. As it did, he leapt out and drove his Assegai into its neck. It severed all connections in its mechanical body, and he pulled it back out of sight. He looked back and signalled for the two of them to go forward.