Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection (12 page)

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Authors: Nick S. Thomas

Tags: #Sci Fi & Fantasy, #Science Fiction, #Adventure, #Space Opera

BOOK: Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection
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"Why do we not do what we did before, and strike at the heart, like you did the Cholans?"

Taylor took a deep breath. He hadn't even considered it, but he knew deep down the reason.

"Because the Cholans are a people that could be easily forced to submit. The Krys are not, and from what I hear of these Barbarlars, it is far worse. They will drag us into a war that will not end anytime soon. If we kill their leader in any way other than through a manner they respect and can accept, the whole lot will come down on us."

"You know this?"

Taylor shrugged. "As much as any of us can know anything."

"That's reassuring," Jones muttered.

Taylor heard and looked around. The Lieutenant was smiling and had merely meant it in jest.

"Then how will you manage it?" Song asked, "If these aren't the sort of people to be reasoned with or threatened, what will you do?"

"I’ve got an idea."

Jones was already shaking his head, and Song looked to him for answers.

"I can't even imagine, but you're not going to like it."

"Colonel, we have already lost Lord Jafar to this world. Please do not sacrifice yourself in the same manner."

"Trust me, I don't intend to."

"I am not even sure what the chain of command is anymore," stated Song.

Taylor agreed, for lines were blurred at best.

"Commander Sarik will lead this fleet. He is the highest ranking officer and deserves the chance to lead his people back there to get Jafar back, but ground operations will be by my authority."

She nodded in agreement, but then frowned as she thought it through further.

"What of the Cholan emperor?"

"Tuin is here to support and oversee operations. He has no military title or position."

Taylor rested back against a console near the Captain's chair and marvelled at the fleet they had assembled. He knew that in reality the whole lot of them were loyal to him, and he was all that held them altogether. Jones was doing the same.

"Amazing, isn't it? I wake up and am told of this peaceful Utopia where there are no wars and everyone gets along, and yet the minute something rocks the boat, everyone is at each other's throats. Things haven't changed as much as most people think."

Jones nodded.

"Every generation wants to think those who lived before them were more primitive, more violent, less advanced, and less sophisticated in their society."

Taylor smiled.

"You sound just like Charlie."

Jones appreciated that, but it still meant little to him.

"I still cannot get my head around the fact you knew an ancestor of mine that not a single relative alive in my lifetime has ever met. It is not natural."

"No, but there are many unnatural things in this life, and clearly they aren't all bad. You know the first time I saw a Krys warrior and fought them with firearms; you would consider it a joke today. We could barely penetrate their armour. They were terrifying and immortal creatures. It seemed as if they would sweep across the world and end humanity for good. Look where we are now. We consider one another equals, and we are risking everything to save one of them."

"I never understood why the Krys fought us the way they did."

"Because you never met those who led them. The royal bloodline that ruled over them with an iron fist was a cruel and sadistic hand. Pray you never see the day you have to come face-to-face with some monster like Erdogan."

"I wish I could say I haven't."

And then it struck him.

Ganbaatar
.

In all the hectic battles with the Cholans, he had let himself forget the Morohta Prince.

"Next time we will be ready," said Taylor.

"We have the signal from Commander Sarik. The fleet is prepared to move out," said Nichols.

Song glanced to Taylor for confirmation, and he simply nodded to give the go ahead. They could see the jump gate opening.

"Take us out," ordered Song.

Chapter 6
 

Jafar looked up to the small hole in the ceiling, the only source of daylight. The toxins had long since worn off, but he had lost track of how many days he had been there as a result of their effects. He was sitting against a damp wall and had been stripped of his armour. He wore just the skin-tight compression suit that still had the gaping hole and bandage over his flank. He peeled it back. The wound was healing quickly, and he no longer winced in pain as he moved.

 
He heard something slide across the floor. A wooden tray bumped across the ground and stopped a metre away from him. It was the same god-awful food he had been living on since he arrived. Some kind of primitive bread denser than an overcooked steak, and a slime that barely seemed edible at all. Years of living a life of luxury had not let him forget the bad times, and he would weather them once again. He picked up the plate and looked up at the Barbarlar guard who had thrown it at him. He stood behind prison bars woven together from a local vine that seemed as strong as tempered steel. Every part of life was tough on this planet, and he could see what it had done to those that inhabited the savage land.

The guard looked at him with disgust, as if insulted by his lavish and decadent ways. But Jafar would have none of it. He picked up the bread and chewed down on it as if it were any other meal, refusing to be seen as weak amongst anyone, let alone the savages now imprisoning him. He got halfway through the food, and the guard had not left; yet he always had within seconds before. He knew something was different this time. He could hear footsteps approaching and stopped eating so that he may listen and watch intently.

Two other guards strode into view on the other side of the bars. They hauled Boz and Gur alongside them, with their hands bound in a thick twine. Both looked battered and bloody, and with barely enough energy to walk. They were dragging their feet and completely unable to resist. Jafar brought his legs back and began to get up when the guard shouted at him.

"Stay!"

The command disgusted him. He was being treated like an enslaved animal, but there was nothing he could do to change their situation. All he could do was wait and hope someone would come for him. Part of him wished he had not sent Sarik away, but had he not, it would only have condemned him and so many more to the same fate. A hatch with a hinged opening at the top was raised, and his two comrades thrown inside. They couldn't keep their balance in their weakened state and staggered in, falling to the floor. The hatch was thrown back down, its base sliding into channels in the floor. A lock slid across, firmly holding it in place.

The three Barbarlars strode off laughing at their plight, knowing Jafar and his comrades were powerless. Jafar rushed to Boz first, whose arm was bound and tied to his chest.

"How is your wound?" he asked.

He turned Boz over onto his back and pulled out a tiny blade from the buckle of his compression suit. He slipped the blade into the binding and sliced it open until his one good arm came free. Boz groaned and seemed dazed.

"Alive," he replied.

Jafar cut Gur's restraints, too, and they both helped Boz sit up against the wall where Jafar had been moments before.

Both of them looked badly beaten. Blood had dried and congealed over their faces from injuries when they were first captured, and what looked like much more vigorous beatings since. He knew the only reason he had been spared such a beating was tradition, and that angered him. That Coskun would appear to stick to the tradition and rules of their ancestors so closely, and yet cheat in a fair contest in order to beat him.

"I am sorry we could not protect you," whispered Boz.

He was exhausted and barely able to get his words out. Jafar shook his head.

"No, there was nothing you could do. This was a trap that no manner of planning or skill could have wriggled out of, and I am sorry."

Boz nodded in gratitude, though Jafar didn't feel he deserved it. He picked up the plate with the remaining food and handed it to them to share.

"Even if we can escape, there is no way off this world without help from the Alliance. All we can do now is hope someone is foolish enough to come after us."

"But you ordered Commander Sarik to leave," Gur insisted.

"Yes, but there are others who would yet come for us."

* * *

Alita opened the door to Taylor's quarters aboard the Guam with a smile upon her face, but it was soon gone when she found an empty room. She tried his comms, but there was no answer, and so she set about looking for him. After trying several places, she strode into the armoury and found him sitting on one of the benches with the Morohta hammer across his lap.

"What are you doing with that?"

His right hand ran over the surface of the hammerhead as if he were studying it.

"We're going after big game. I figure I want to have the right tool for the job. A beast slayer."

"That thing is ridiculous."

"Yes, and it has got me out of more than a few tight spots, already."

"You cannot fight every battle single-handedly, you know that, right?"

He looked up to see genuine concern and worry in her face.

"And I don't, which is why I have come here. We need Jafar. We need his experience, strength, and leadership. Most of all, we need the Krys people, and few of their worlds will support us without him leading them."

"But you can't just go down there and seize power for yourself. A Human will never be accepted."

Taylor shrugged.

"I will do whatever I have to do."

She opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted by an open call over the loudspeakers.

"Colonel Taylor to the bridge."

He leapt to his feet and rushed forwards with the hammer in hand. He got to the bridge. Song was waiting for him.

"We are being hailed by a Barbarlar vessel. Commander Sarik has asked if you want to handle this."

"Sure, how many are out there?"

"Just one vessel, a small warship, but nothing of note."

"All right, put them on screen."

A Barbarlar appeared a few seconds later. He had the same primitive dress and hard faced look as the representative that had addressed Jafar.

"You bring a fleet where it is not welcome. I represent Lord Coskun of all the Krys peoples, and..."

"Of no people but his own," snapped Taylor.

The alien seemed shocked to have been interrupted.

"If your Lord held any power over the Krys people, then you would have a fleet here to protect this world. Instead, they stand here with me, a Human."

"You have no authority here, no matter how many traitors from our people support you. Advance any further, and you will be treated as an enemy."

Taylor ignored him and looked to the Captain.

"Target their weapon modules and engines."

She did not hesitate to relay the commands, and Taylor looked again at the Krys representative who still seemed utterly calm. He thought Taylor was calling his bluff, and that only made him smile.

"Ready to fire," replied Nichols.

Taylor looked into the eyes of the Barbarlar one last time, but he could see he was not willing to concede a single thing.

"Fire!"

The gun batteries of the Guam opened up with one carefully targeted burst. They watched on another display as the impacts blew holes in the vessel. The Barbarlar was rocked in his seat, and the signal interrupted for a moment. The alien showed on screen before them once more, but he had nothing to say, so Taylor continued.

"Tell your master we are on our way. We come to negotiate, but any sign of force will result in an immediate carpet-bombing of every town and village we see. I will set this world on fire if you give me a reason to do so. There will be no glorious struggle, just genocide that I will have no pleasure nor doubt in dealing out."

He turned back to Song who seemed rather amazed and impressed at the same time.

"Advance towards the planet, and cut this fool off."

The Barbarlar said nothing before the transmission was terminated.

"That was an interesting form of diplomacy," she stated.

Taylor nodded.

"These Barbarlars will be beaten into submission or left for dead. It is their choice."

"You know we don't have the strength or firepower to do that?"

"Yes, but they don't know that."

They soared forwards and past the stricken enemy vessel en route to the planet. Song brought up camera views in front of them that projected deep into the world. Taylor was surprised at how underdeveloped it was. He had expected a primitive and simple world, not one that looked like nothing more than just wilderness.

"Why did we ever need these people? How useful can one planet be? Surely not worth all this risk?" Song asked.

"Is it worth fighting over? No, we can't afford the losses, but is it worth risking a few lives to gain an army, yes. Jafar knew that, he just didn't have the resources to pull it off. I should have had him wait until we returned from Yaxha, and maybe all this could have been avoided."

"Hindsight's a bitch. That's what you are always telling us," added Jones.

"Even so, I won't make the same mistake twice. I am taking the Guam's Marine detachment with me, and plenty more from the other vessels. Put me through to Sarik and Tuin."

Song was taken aback to hear them referred to so informally, and yet she did not question or doubt Taylor's ways.

The Commander and the Emperor appeared before them soon after.

"That was not how I expected you to handle this situation," started Sarik.

"Yeah, well surprise can be a powerful negotiating tool."

Jones smiled at the concept.

"I need two hundred of your Mechs to support me, and as many of your warriors Tuin."

"You have them," replied Sarik.

"We are at your disposal," Tuin added.

"Then follow my lead," he replied, and both parties ended the communication.

He turned back to Song. She was calmly awaiting his orders.

"You hold position, gun ports open. I want them to think we are willing to turn their home into a fireball."

"And if they attack you in force?"

"Rain down fire as much as you can, and get us out of there, but only on my signal."

She acknowledged the order and went on to carry out her duties.

"Let's go," Taylor said to Jones.

"Colonel!" Song called.

He stopped. She was standing at a display screen and frowning, as if trying to make sense of what she was seeing.

"What is it, Captain?"

"We are picking up signals from Lord Jafar's shuttle."

Taylor rushed to the console. She was looking at an overhead satellite view of a vast arena with the shuttle dwarfed near the centre.

"Why would they just leave it there? Not try to hide it or stop the signal?"

"Maybe they don't know how?"

Taylor smiled at Nichols and shook his head.

"No, it is a trophy, and likely a trap."

"So you will ignore it?"

"Nope, I'm gonna land right beside it."

The two Navy officers looked confused and waited for him to go on.

"They aren't afraid, and it is a statement of that fact."

"Doesn't that worry you?"

"Just stick to the plan, Captain, and cover our asses."

He left the bridge, and they returned to the docking bay and once again a scene that was becoming all too familiar. The ship’s marines had been formed up, and all equipped as the Immortals now standing beside them. Most were veterans of the Yaxha mission, although there were plenty of new faces. Taylor strode up and down the line, trying to get a good look at every face of the men and women he was about to lead. He stopped to address them.

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