Battle Beyond Earth: Insurrection (4 page)

"Who?"

"The rest of the crew aboard this vessel."

Taylor shrugged. "Maybe because to get here they'd have to walk over swathes of their own dead, and realise that none of ours are among them."

"He's right. Nobody could stomach that," added Alita.

They could do nothing but watch the rest of the battle unfold. Half of the ships on both sides were disabled or destroyed. Burnt out hulks floated through space, and still the fight went on. The countdown for their weapon systems seemed to take an hour; at least it felt that way. By the time it was finally ready, the entire area was a scrapyard.

"Ready!" Alita said enthusiastically.

But it felt almost too late.

"Fire," whispered Taylor.

The familiar surge overcame the vast ship once again, and the barrel of the Goliath weapon spurt flame and fire and smashed into the second heavy cruiser, blowing it apart just as it had done the first. Taylor slumped back into the Admiral's seat. He knew it was over, but at a great cost.

"They're running!"

He looked up. The remainder of the Cholan fleet were fleeing through the gateway. It shut down, and finally they were left in peace. Taylor looked over several screens to survey the damage. A number of crippled Cholan vessels had been left behind. Many of the Human and Krys vessels looked beaten beyond repair. Two Aranui vessels had been destroyed.

"Get me some comms. Let's see who is left."

A few moments later the comms officer from the station appeared. He was badly cut and bleeding on one side of his face and burnt on the other, but still doing his job. Sparks flew in the background as crews fought a fire behind him.

"What can I do for you, Colonel?" asked the officer, surprisingly calm.

"What's the damage?"

"We have a lot of casualties, hard to calculate the numbers so far. Most of the bridge crew are dead or wounded. The President and Lord Jafar are in medical undergoing treatment."

"How bad are they?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel. I just don't know at this stage."

"And the rest of the fleet?"

The man shrugged.

"I am getting a few reports in, but many have lost comms altogether. I...we....are just dead in the water. I don't know what to do."

"And Commander Cohen?"

"She...is among the dead, I am sorry to say. I am the highest ranking officer currently reporting for duty here."

Taylor shook his head, realising the extent of the damage.

"I need to get back to you, but I'll need a skeleton crew over here to take care of prisoners and wrestle this beast into submission, can you send a team ASAP?"

"I'll do what I can, Sir."

Taylor ended the call.

"What have we done?"

Alita’s voice was full of sorrow and regret.

"What have we done? No, what did they do? What did that piece of shit do?" He pointed at the bloody mess of Eme on the deck.

"We didn't ask for this fight, and we sure as hell didn't want it. Divide and conquer, that is exactly what has been done here. We bought ourselves some valuable time to prepare for the coming war, and now we've probably been set back months, maybe even a year."

"A year?" she asked, looking out at the wrecked fleet, "You think we can replace this in a year?"

"Damn right we can, and we will. Because if we can't, it will be the end of us."

"But...this fleet has been built over probably a decade or more."

"Built in a time of peace. Trust me, war time manufacture can work miracles, and miracles are what we need."

"But you don't believe in miracles."

"Not from any God, no, but I believe men and women can make them happen."

She slumped down to the floor and against one of the units. She looked utterly lost.

"How do you keep going? How do you do it? I don't even want to stand right now, can't. I don't want to fight for this anymore. How do we ever keep moving forward?"

Taylor didn't know how to answer, for he wasn't even sure himself.

"Survival instinct is a strong driving force," stated Babacan.

"That's the best damn answer I have heard yet."

"But do you believe it?" she asked him.

"Do I think life is worth living? When I have those I love around me, yes."

"And when you came into this new life? You had none of that."

"No," he said, thinking back to those miserable days, "And that is why I was weak. We all need something to fight for. None of us does it for fun, or just out of a sense of duty."

"And when you lose everything you care for?"

Taylor shrugged.

"You find something new and keep moving forward. That is the cycle of life. None of us live forever. Or not too many, anyway."

"Are we destined to lead the life that you have? To fight, and fight, and suffer, and lose, and dance with death so often that we may meet with it any day. To live in that state of fear?"

"Fear? No, no. It may be my curse to go on living while others die around me, but I do not live in fear. Not fear of death, anyhow. We all die. To fear death is to fear life."

He knelt down beside her and took her hand in his.

"This is what is worth living for."

* * *

Hours had passed before Taylor and his team were on their return to the station aboard a transport shuttle. There were large porthole windows running the length of the craft, and they could see the devastation of the battle with their own eyes. Most chose to ignore it, but Alita couldn't bring herself to do that. Something hit the fuselage and bounced off, the body of a Human crewmember that floated on past the windows. A few tears came to Alita's eyes, but she tried to hide them.

As they came into land in the docking bays of the station, they watched a constant stream of shuttles bringing in the wounded. Many were being treated or awaiting treatment on the docking bay floor. There was no space left in the medical facilities. The shuttle reached the ground, and they stepped out to find a stream of blood along the dock floor. There was no triumphant return for them. None knew what they had done, and few recognised them. Taylor reached out and grabbed the nearest orderly as he passed.

"The President and Lord Jafar, where are they?"

The man struggled to get free, but Taylor's grip only got firmer.

"That's secure information that I don't have, and you aren't privy to," snapped the man.

He tried to get free, but Taylor's grip was like iron around his upper arm. So tight in fact that it was starting to cut off his blood circulation.

"I am Colonel Mitch Taylor. Both the President and Lord Jafar will want to see me, so please cut the shit and just be helpful."

The man sighed and reluctantly gave in.

"They are being treated at Zone B, at an isolated ward at the rear of the sector."

"Number?"

"It is unclassified, and an emergency facility for just this very thing."

"You let that secret out pretty easy," replied Taylor, smiling as he released his grip.

"Screw you. There are people here that need my assistance. Why don't you cut the macho nonsense and make yourself useful?"

"He just did. He just saved your ass," Alita said.

But the man had no care to wait around and hear her response. He rushed off in a huff.

"Becoming quite the little badass."

"I learnt from the best."

He went on at a brisk pace, pushing his way through the docking bay area and several sectors of the station before eventually reaching the unmarked area the orderly had mentioned in Zone B. Two heavily armed guards stood at the door, and both of them recognised Taylor instantly. They let him pass, and he strode in to find a dozen more marines waiting on guard inside, where he also found Sarik. His clothing was cut and several bandages covered minor wounds. Stitches held together a deep cut beside his eye.

"How are they?"

"Both your President and Lord Jafar are stable. They will be okay."

Taylor gasped in relief, "Close call."

"Yes, but we lost many more."

"I need to see them."

"With what in mind?"

"We need a strategy put together right now. The Cholans have run with their tails between their legs, but they are still a threat."

"Not anytime soon, though, surely?" Alita asked. She was now beside him.

"I would strike them quickly while they are still weak. Follow me," replied Sarik.

"Attack?" she asked Taylor as they followed the alien, "With what? We are in tatters."

"And to wait and prepare could cost us more later. We have a resolve that the Cholans do not. We have broken their fleet. Now we must break their will."

They stepped through into a medical room where there were just two patients, Isaacs one side and Jafar the other. Human doctors worked on both, with one Krys aiding them. Both of them were awake and checking through statistics. Jafar had a wound in his flank, whereas the President appeared to have a broken arm and light cuts. Jafar seemed to be in a much worse state, but he was taking it well. Taylor first went to his old friend.

"Tough old bull, aren't you?"

Jafar turned to greet him but winced slightly as a sharp pain ran through his body.

"Still breathing," he replied.

Taylor turned to the President who had not said a word.

"Mr President, what are your intentions?"

Isaacs looked up. "Intentions? Look at us. We barely got through this alive. Can you not give us some peace to recover what we have left, or is your warmongering state of personality that overpowering?"

Taylor couldn't believe what he was hearing but did his utmost to remain calm.

"Sir, the Cholans have already shown their intent. While the threat of Bolormaa looms over them, and we appear weak in comparison to the Morohta, they will continue to fight us."

"Isn't this much death and destruction enough for you, Colonel? They won't be back anytime soon."

"They will," a voice said from behind Taylor.

He turned to see Irala. Even he had not escaped the brutal effects of the battle. His arm had some kind of wound covering made of a metallic foil, and the left side of his face was cut in many small slices like he had been showered with glass. Taylor welcomed his support and let him go on.

"The Cholans may be weak, but so is this Alliance, and they know it. They will be back."

The President sighed as if he didn't believe Irala, or at least didn't want to believe him.

"What would you suggest?"

"Go after them, and finish them before they can regroup," Taylor quickly added.

Isaacs laughed. "Go after them? With what?"

"Let me return to Tau Ceti and rally the Krys for this new offensive," groaned Jafar.

He fought to get out of bed and strode over to Taylor. He was clearly still in a great deal of pain. Taylor extended a hand to help prop his friend up. Jafar gladly accepted.

"Go, get the support we so desperately need, but let me follow the Cholan fleet and put a stop to this right now," replied Taylor.

"What can you bring into this?" asked Isaacs, "How many ships, how many soldiers?"

Jafar shrugged.

"You must go to the Barbarlars," said Irala.

Jafar's back straightened at the word and shrugged off Taylor's arm. It was clear the prospect was something alien to him. He looked scared, something Taylor had never seen in his old friend.

"Who the hell are they?" Taylor asked.

Jafar didn't want to answer.

"A powerful force that we will need at our disposal," added Irala.