Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection (17 page)

"Why on earth did he never come for it himself?"

Then he began to dwell on Jones' words.

What use is such a powerful weapon if it cannot be brought to bear? It must have seemed a useless relic when hordes of Krys invaded.

Hours had passed when Song called him to the bridge. He arrived to see they were in orbit with the planet. It was a stark, dusty world. Large mountain ranges and canyons formed what used to be vast oceans. They now just contained the murky remnants of the vast waterways that would have made the planet a luscious world, more akin to Taylor's favourite parts of Earth.

"What did the Krys do here?" asked Jones.

Taylor looked to Babacan for answers, though he knew it was well before his day.

"They were dark days for my people. Once considered one of our greatest triumphs, but now a history we try to forget."

"Your ancestors fought so hard to take Earth, a paradise according to your myths and legends, and yet you probably had the chance of something just like it here. Why destroy that?"

Babacan had no answers, but Taylor could already imagine why. He thought back to the sadistic Lord Demiran, who would have Earth destroyed rather than see a single Human live upon it.

"I am picking up some signs of life down there," said Nichols.

"What?" Taylor demanded.

"They...they are not Aranui."

"The Morohta, they must have got here ahead of us..." suggested Jones.

"No...they are Krys."

"Show me!" Taylor ordered sharply, as he tried to wrap his head around the reason for them being there.

A screen flashed up, and a bird's eye view revealed a small town. It was certainly of Krys construction, and they could see Krys and their vehicles going about their daily business.

"Looks like a settlers village," said Jones.

"What?"

"You know, like those old Wild West movies."

"You think that's what this is?"

Babacan stepped up beside Taylor for a better look. His eyes opened wide as he understood. There were symbols on the rooftops that he obviously recognised.

"Well, who are they?" Taylor asked.

"Cingenes," he replied confidently, if a little surprised.

"What?"

"They are a nomadic cult that come from three of our worlds. They serve merely for the benefit of travel. That is their pay."

"So what, they just take up on any world they are taken to?" asked Jones.

"Yes. They are a strange people. Simple, devious, and not to be trusted."

"Why would they come here?"

Babacan shook his head and shrugged.

"How long have they been here?"

"This world was uninhabitable for a long time," replied Song.

"Yes, but they are also hardened people. Judging by what they have built here, thirty years, maybe longer," replied Babacan.

"But why?"

"Why doesn't matter right now, Jones. Are they dangerous?"

"Yes. They will attack any potential threat they see. They are simple, but tough people. They are also deeply religious and believe they are above all others."

"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.