Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection (20 page)

"You must have something to say, or why did you come?"

Jones shrugged.

"Maybe because I thought you needed a friend."

Taylor grimaced, though it was actually true.

"It can't be easy...all the pressure that is put on you. You have this great reputation as the saviour of humanity, no small title. Not many believed it, but then you made them. You gave us all hope that the reputation you had truly was warranted, and you could earn such a title again in this time. You gave all that, and yet the reality isn't as clean and fairy tale as the history books would have you believe."

Taylor sat up, understanding Jones was at least seeing the big picture.

"It's going to get a whole lot worse before it gets better," he replied, "You imagine the worst things you have ever seen in your life, and then times that by ten, and have it happen every day for months if not years without end."

"But it's not all that bad, is it? I have read of your exploits. I know that in between all that chaos and death, you found plenty of good times."

"That’s true, but you have to find them where you can."

"So fix it with her."

Taylor looked confused.

"Alita means something special to you. More than anything else in the life you now live. That is worth fighting for as much as this war."

Once again Taylor recognised some of Charlie in his ancestor, and that made him smile.

"I know," he said quietly.

"Still believe in this mythical spear?"

Taylor laughed a little. "One thing I learnt a long time ago was to hold on to hope, no matter how remote. I have to believe, or there would be no chance of finding it."

"You just don't strike me as a man willing to believe fairy tales, and the crew is starting to doubt it, too. The casualties we took down there are making them restless. Many wonder if you will just keep going until there is nobody left."

"We only lost a few, didn't we?"

"Yes, but it's hit them hard."

"That can't be the only reason they are restless?"

Jones shook his head.

"Well, come on, out with it," insisted Taylor.

"There are rumours. Some think you have gone crazy. Obsessed with some myth that is having you chase the rainbow."

"And what do you believe?"

"That you are too stubborn to quit, no matter what."

"Does that frighten you?"

He nodded. "A little."

"Well, it took a crazy man to get you this far. That's why I was taken out of the freezer. When all common sense and knowledge failed, you came to me. Maybe I am a little crazy, and maybe crazy is all that will see you through this."

Jones got up to leave, stopping at the door for one last word.

"It's not me you need to convince."

The door shut, and Taylor found himself settling into a deep and much welcome sleep. When he finally woke up, he had been out for nine hours, and appreciated just how much he’d needed it. He groaned as he got to his feet and headed out the door for the bridge. As he made his way down the corridors of the ship, he noticed a change in crew that he passed. They didn't look up to him as the superior and famed warrior that they had when he came aboard. Most acknowledged him, but they seemed wary of making eye contact.

Taylor was starting to understand what Jones was saying. It was a lot to ask for them to believe in the Pauri Tao. He had proven himself as a fighter and a leader, but he had no track record in this new endeavour. The crew had no reason to trust Irala like he did. The whole thing still sounded crazy to him, but he was willing to give it a chance. He stepped onto the bridge and received much the same response by all, apart from Song.

"We are fifteen hours from our destination, Colonel," she reported.

"Any sign of that planet yet? What was it called... Aratoro?"

"Nothing, Sir," replied Osborne.

"We're chasing thin air, might as well go home now before we lose anyone else," Nichols muttered.

"What was that?"

"You heard me, Colonel. This mission will lead to nothing but more death. You are obsessed with a fantasy."

Taylor strode up to Nichols.

"Whatever your personal feelings are, I suggest you keep them to yourself, Captain. This is not a committee run ship. If I wanted your opinion, I would ask for it."

"You don't give a damn, do you? We might as well be drones to you. You'd lead every single one of us to our deaths in the hope of more glory for your name."

Taylor smacked him across the jaw with a heavy backhand. The impact was both firm and surprising enough that Nichols was knocked over onto one of the consoles. Everyone froze in shock as he looked down with disdain and waited for the Captain to make some retort.

"Haven't got the balls, have you? No courage in your convictions?"

Nichols wiped a little blood from his mouth and slumped back down into his seat. Taylor looked around. The crew did not look favourably at his actions but were too scared to speak out against them. They were living in fear of him now, and that was a dangerous situation to be in.

"Don't think I would ever risk even one of you in any way for my own ambitions. I have none of my own. All I want is to win this war. Are people going to die in the process? Yes, they will. I will do my utmost to ensure I protect as many lives as possible, but you need to have a little faith in me, and each other. I can't give you any promises that we will find this weapon. That is not the way life is. Neither will I set a deadline as to when we might call off this search. For if I did that, we already accept defeat, and he who accepts defeat never wins anything. Stay strong and stay vigilant. You are the frontline, the first line of defence. A whole lot of people are relying on you."

Most seemed to take it quite well and stood a little taller for it, but Nichols would not even make eye contact with him. The Captain was sowing the seed of discord amongst them, and yet it was clear he had gone as far as he could to discipline the man. He turned to leave when Song interjected.

"Where are you going, Colonel?"

"To check on the wounded."

Nichols finally looked up, and it was clear he had not done so himself, despite his outburst. Taylor didn't need to say another word.

Taylor walked out of medical after having visited the wounded, when he stopped at the doorway. Alita was walking towards him and clearly hadn't expected to see him there. She stopped in her tracks. At first she looked a little awkward and angry, but that soon began to fade a little.

"I didn't expect to find you down here."

"Why, didn't think I cared?"

She shook her head as she began to cry a little.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"You don't disgust me. It's just a lot to take in."

"I know. To me it was only a few years ago that I revelled in the sight of dead aliens. We didn't even see them as people at all. That came much later."

"You don't feel like that anymore, though?"

"Of course not. But it doesn't weigh so heavily on me. You build a tolerance in time. It's not a pleasant thing to grow tolerant of, but necessary in what we do. Otherwise you will become a quivering wreck and unable to go on living."

She staggered a few paces and sat back against the side of the corridor, collapsing down until her head was buried between her knees. She continued to cry. It was in this moment he was aware that he had asked too much of them. His new comrades were capable fighters, but they were not the veterans he used to know as the Immortals. His fearless companions had been through hell and could handle anything. He had expected the same of Alita and the rest of the new era of Immortals. They had it in them to be every bit as good, but only with time and experience.

"So that is the best advice you have? That over time our senses will just become dulled to the level that we don't care? What if I want to go on caring? What if it is what keeps us human?"

Taylor shrugged.

"I didn't say I had the perfect solution. But we work from the very core of what we need, survival, everything else is just a luxury."

He sat down beside her and placed his arm around her shoulders. She nestled in.

"I'll never forget what happened down there, and we weren't even the ones who had to go through with it. You've won me over, but what about the rest of the crew?"

Taylor sighed. "They are restless..."

"They are more than that. There is talk of getting this ship turned around and heading on home."

"Mutiny?"

She shrugged at the thought of it, but did not respond. The situation was much more serious than he thought.

"You really think a crew would turn on me?"

"If pressed hard enough."

"Haven't I done enough to prove myself?"

"In many ways, yes, but what we are doing out here just seems madness. We have only a few ships. Were we to be ambushed, or attacked by any sizeable force, we would be utterly wiped out."

"Nothing ventured, nothing gained," he replied.

"And that would be fine if anyone on this ship believed in what we are searching for. A few weeks ago we had never heard of the Morohta. A few days ago we had never heard of this Pauri Tao. If such a valuable weapon existed, don't you think we would have known about it sooner? The myth at least, if not the location?"

Taylor had to agree with what she was saying.

"I understand, but I can't tell you why I choose to believe in this, beyond just the trust I have in Irala. Maybe his grandfather was making up grandiose stories, maybe he exaggerated, who knows? But somehow, deep down I know it exists. Whether we can find it or not doesn't matter. And however remote a chance there is, don't you think people want to be able to believe in something as fantastical as this spear? Is it not hope something beyond anything we can dream of?"

"Hope, is that what you think this gives us?"

"To those we left behind, yes. They know we were willing to give and put in everything we had for this. Don't you think that would inspire them to do the same?"

"But they don't even know about this mission or the spear?"

Taylor smiled as he shook his head.

"Wrong. I authorised the President to broadcast a pre-recorded message of mine forty-eight hours after we departed. Long enough for us to get free and not risk being pursued."

"But what if Bolormaa gets wind of it?"

"She's cut off, so we can hope she won't, and if she does, to hell with her! If she sends forces after us, then that only confirms the existence of the weapon."

"That is a very dangerous game to play. You are gambling with all our lives."

"Our lives were gambled the day the Morohta were discovered, the day you signed up for this job. The day you came into this war stricken universe."

"Doesn't mean we want to end them sooner than fate intended."

"Fate?" he sighed.

"You keep saying you don't believe in it, and then at the same time seem to think you were put in this universe to serve some need, and certainly history would support that fact."

"Yeah, well, if you believe in all that crap, then I can't get you killed any sooner than the universe intended," he replied with a smile.

He got to his feet and offered out his hand. She gladly took it and was hauled up beside him.

"You sure know how to give a pep talk."

"I'm a people person, didn't you know that?"

She smiled as the last tear dropped down her face, but her expression soon turned businesslike.

"You need to make this right with the crew before it is too late."

"I get that," he replied, stroking her face.

Nichols’ voice came over the comms.

"Colonel Taylor, report to the bridge, please."

"I guess they are singing my song." He kissed her forehead and made to leave.

"I'll stand by you, no matter what, you know that right?" she said as he walked off.

He didn't need to say another word, but it meant a lot. Now he just had to win over the rest of the crew. As he got halfway to the bridge, he found Jones.

"Think we have made it to the planet?"

Taylor looked down at his console and shook his head.

"It's too early. We can't be there yet."

"Maybe something else of interest has come up?"

"Yeah, maybe," he replied with little enthusiasm.

He was trying to think how to smooth things over with the crew, but he couldn't find a way. He had said all he had to say and given them all the hope he possibly had to give. He stepped onto the bridge. Nichols was at the centre. Beside him were two security guards either side of Captain Song who looked sullenly at the floor.

"What is this?"

Nichols stood tall and proud for the first time in a while and responded with a commanding and strong voice.

"Colonel, you have continued to put this crew at unnecessary levels of risk and have broken the laws and the very moral foundations of the Alliance! You have disregarded the concerns of your crew, and continued to lead us on a path to destruction. I no longer consider you fit for duty."

"And what does the Commander have to say about this?" Taylor spat.

"Commander Song has failed to work in the best interests of this ship and her crew. I have relieved Song of her command and assumed full control over this mission."

"How dare you! You have no such right, you pathetic little worm!"

He reached for his pistol, but he felt Jones' hand grab his other arm. He looked to the Lieutenant who gestured for him to look to their side and rear. Six of the crew had carbines trained on them.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked Nichols, slowly letting go of the grip of his pistol.

One of the guards stepped forward and ripped it from his holster, as well as his Assegai from his other flank. He only just resisted the urge to turn and strike the man down, knowing he could not afford to start a battle on the bridge.

They’ll never come back to my side if I draw first blood.

"The President authorised this mission, Captain. He will not looked lightly upon this," stated Jones.

"President Isaacs will understand why we had to do this when he sees what happened on Moana. You can't go through this life getting away with every crime, Taylor. You're a savage creature that should never have been set loose in this world."

"And you would not be alive if he had not," replied Jones.

"That does not excuse the things he has done. Escort Commander Song, Colonel Taylor, and Lieutenant Jones to the brig."

Taylor could see the Captain honestly believed he was doing the right thing. He didn't particularly like the man, but he could see in his eyes this was not being done because of his own ambition, but for the fear of the loss of life for him and his crew.

"Just tell me you are going to get to that planet and give it a shot? It’s less than a day to reach it, what is one more day?"

"One more day of risk. I cannot put this crew through it. They have suffered enough. We are returning to Ares, and you will face the charges in a military tribunal."

"As will you," he snarled.

"Captain, I'm tracking something on a collision course," said Osborne in a panicked tone.

"What is it?"

But before any response came they felt the ship rock, as an explosion rang out. They all stumbled a few paces. Taylor saw the guard behind him stagger. It was the opening he needed to grab the man's weapon, and yet he looked to Jones who still shook his head.

"This isn't the time," whispered Jones.

"What the hell was that?" Nichols asked.

"I am not picking up any vessels in the area."

Nichols rushed to Osborne’s console. Everyone saw the panic in his eyes. Another explosion rang out.

"We're in a minefield. Look where you have brought us!" he yelled to Taylor.

"Get them out of here!"

"Wait!" Taylor shouted, "Ask yourself, Captain, if there is a minefield here, why? Is it not likely here to protect something of value? Like a planet that you believe does not exist because your maps say it doesn't?"

"Put this on screen!" Nichols ordered.

A large projection map displayed hundreds of mines for as far as they could see.

"Tell me how we get through this!"

"We're already a good way through. The guns should be able to handle plenty, and this old girl can take the rest," replied Taylor.

"You just live on hopes and dreams, Colonel. You gamble lives away without any consideration at all."

"Activate defence grids and turn us about!" Nichols ordered.

They could see tracer lights as the railguns opened up on several of the mines, but a few seconds later they heard a massive blast, and the ship was rocked. The lighting fluctuated from the impact, and half the screens on the bridge failed.

"We have lost power to the engines!" one of the crew shouted frantically.

"Start auxiliary engines."

"They are out, too, Captain."

Nichols froze for a minute, realising they were floating through the minefield with no power at all.

"Use docking thrusters to bring us to a stop!" Song ordered.

"Get her off the bridge!" Nichols insisted.

"Wait," Jones interrupted, "That is no mine."

They all fell silent and looked to where he was pointing. A narrow torpedo like object was soaring towards them.

"I thought you said there were no vessels sighted?" Nichols stammered.

Jones had seen this before when he had first encountered the Morohta; the boarding Stalkers that almost ended him before the war had started.

"That hasn't come from a ship. We're about to be boarded."

"Target that incoming object and destroy it!" Nichols gave the order.

The weapon systems opened up and obliterated the target. But soon after another four appeared on the scanners. Their weapon systems destroyed another, but the next hit the hull and disappeared from the scanners. The guns continued to fire at the rest as Nichols barked his orders.