Battle Earth: 11 (19 page)

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Authors: Nick S. Thomas

BOOK: Battle Earth: 11
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"What? Tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands?" Taylor demanded.

"Yes," Irala replied dryly.

Well that's a big fucking help,
thought Taylor.

"Taylor, you want to go back to Earth, but even with our new allies, we cannot defeat Erdogan."

"We can't defeat his armies, no."

"Then what is this all for?"

"Erdogan," he replied, "Erdogan is what is holding it all together. When I killed Demiran, his armies folded around us. Most surrendered outright. Erdogan is even more significant to them. We kill him, and we end the war outright."

"You're sure of this?" the Admiral asked.

"It is true," replied Irala, "We have seen this before. We once tried to kill Erdogan ourselves, but failed. It cost us dearly, but it was a price worth gambling."

"They failed! How can you expect us to succeed where they failed?"

"Have a little faith, Admiral."

"Faith? In what?"

"In ourselves. If you are aiming to lose, then you'll do just that!"

Huang said nothing. Taylor turned to Irala to see if he had anything to say, but they both now seemed to be waiting for Taylor to take the lead. He knew the Army or Marine brass wouldn't be too happy about it, but he'd been given the reins. He didn't want them, but he saw an opportunity, and he was going to do whatever he had to now.

"I thought you wanted to go after your friend, the Moon Commander?" asked Huang.

"No, I said I'd go back for him, but right now, the best thing we can do is start hitting Erdogan as hard and as often as we can. The resistance movements are stirring up trouble, even if they aren't inflicting major casualties. They can survive and keep on going, providing we take the pressure off them. For now, I want to know a few targets that are weak enough for us to hit hard and fast, but important enough to that alien bastard that he can't afford to lose them. Find me those targets," he said to Irala, "And lastly, find Erdogan. Find him, and we can end this."

"When do you wish to depart?"

"Find us the targets, and then we go."

"It is your planet."

"And this is your surveillance, your technology. You know what you are looking at."

"Colonel, last time you went to Earth, you were confronted with an enemy fleet that you could not hope to face. We are not ready for that fight," Huang pleaded.

"Then the fleet will drop us in, and then jump out until we're ready to leave. You are looking for problems, Admiral, but what we need is solutions."

He looked back to Irala. "I'm a marine, a fighter. Get me down there, and let me do what I'm best at."

He strode out of the room and headed for the surface, with the Admiral close at his heels.

"You're putting us entirely in their hands. Letting them call all the shots?"

"I'm not putting us into anything. You will not be going on this operation. And do you honestly think I'd risk the lives of my people, if I thought they couldn't be trusted to do this right? Let's see what Irala comes up with and work from there. In the meantime, I'll get my people ready to go."

"What do you need me to do?"

"Assemble marines ready to fight. I'll need about a thousand of the best to work alongside my regiment."

"Your regiment? Don't you have just a few hundred men at your command now?"

"Yes, and they do the work of two regiments. Just get me the resources I need."

They stepped out onto the surface. The Chinese marines stood glaring at Jafar's every move and looking nervous.

“Come on, we have work to do,” Taylor said.

The three of them strolled off quickly, leaving Huang still trying to negotiate with Irala. Taylor could hear him failing miserably and that brought a smile to his face.

“The Admiral, is he up to this?”

“No, Parker. He’s not a bad or evil man, but he’s no leader.”

“So what can we do about that?”

“We? You mean what can I do about that? Nothing at all, Jafar, these things have a habit of sorting themselves out. There are enough people in this fleet who have a hunger for power that they’ll soon come looking for it.”

“What do we do now?”

“Get as ready as we can be, Parker. How are the new recruits doing?”

“Well considering, but they aren’t ready for the field.”

“Then get them there.”

“You want them to go into a crazy operation like this? They’re green.”

“Yeah, you remember the first time we saw Mechs? You remember that time on the Lunar colony? All the training in the world didn’t prepare us for that. They’ve had the best training that can be had, anymore. Everything else will come in time.”

“If they survive the experience.”

“Well, if they don’t, then that saves training them any further, doesn’t it?” he joked.

They both knew it was a risky move, but they needed the manpower.

“Are we gonna get some of those Aranui robots to fight beside us?” she asked.

“I have no idea, but we sure could do with them.”

“Then shouldn’t we at least run some training exercises with them?”

“In an ideal world, yes. But this isn’t an ideal world, is it? Get on those recruits, and sweat them."

"Aye, aye, Sir," she said as she peeled off.

The sun was going down, but Taylor took that as no excuse to go slack. He carried on to the Diderot and strode up onto the roof, sitting down at the highest point he could reach. Many of the crews had stopped working for the night, and the only hive of activity was at the bar.

"What would you do?" he asked Jafar, the only one who had followed him up there.

"Fight. As soon and often as we can."

"Do you want to fight to take Earth back, to kill Erdogan, or just because you like to fight?"

"Everything."

"Well, at least you're honest about it."

"You look troubled."

"I am. Erdogan, I think about him all the time. He kicked our asses last time. We didn't even come close to victory. I wonder how in the hell we are gonna do any better next time, short of dropping a bomb on his head."

"Then do that."

"You don't want to beat him in combat?"

"There is no honour in defeat."

Taylor was surprised by his words.

"So you'd kill Erdogan anyway it is possible?"

"Yes."

"Even if that involved flying this ship into him?"

"Yes."

When the sun rose, Taylor awoke atop the ship he had fallen asleep on.

"You want to know how to fight Erdogan? How to kill him?"

Taylor turned to see Irala standing behind him. He knew he hadn't been there the night before, and that made him suspicious of what their allies were watching and monitoring all the time. He made a mental note to remember that in the future.

"Erdogan is like nothing we have ever faced before. He's got speed, power, intelligence, and agility. I don't know how I can beat him if we ever come face to face again."

"You want to know how he beat us?"

"Weight of number?"

Irala nodded.

"Why are you not training for this battle you imagine will happen?"

"I don't know how."

"Gather twenty of your best fighters, and go one hundred metres west of the furthermost ship you have here."

"Twenty?" asked Taylor in surprise.

"Weight of number," added Irala.

"But what..." began Taylor.

Before he could get off another word, the alien was gone again.

"I hate it when he does that."

He looked to Jafar, but got no response.

"What do you say, old friend? We've tried taking on Erdogan and got whipped, you willing to listen to these people and try it their way?"

"If they can make us better fighters, why would we not?"

He carried on over to the area of sand where Parker had declared their training zone. She was already working the recruits hard, as the veterans of the Regiment sat and watched under the shade of sun shelters.

"Listen up!" yelled Taylor.

His voice carried far enough that everyone came to an immediate halt.

"Irala says he's gonna show us how to beat that bastard Erdogan if we ever have to face him in person again. I want twenty of the best we have to step this way. Jafar is one. Who else has the balls to stand beside us, and prepare for the greatest fight of our lives?"

Nobody responded for some time when Captain Morris finally stood up to address Taylor.

"Why don't we just nuke him?"

"When and if we can, I will end Erdogan with the press of a button, and none of you should hesitate to do the same. We aren't looking for any glory here. We want to win, and we need to survive. So when the bomb fails, when Erdogan somehow slips us, and you come face to face with him. When you have a chance to end it all with your bare hands, will you be ready? I, for one, want to know that if the time comes that I have to face him, I stand a chance of winning. Erdogan aims to humiliate me, so the likelihood is greater than you might think. I want a chance of winning, but I can't do it alone. So who will volunteer, and prepare themselves for such a fight?"

Silva immediately stepped forward.

"A chance to kill Erdogan? How could anyone refuse?"

Lam and Hall immediately came forward after him, and others quickly joined them until he had nineteen. Lastly, Parker stepped up. He never wanted to risk her, but was glad of her support.

 
"All right, then, grab your gear and follow me!"

He did just as Irala had told them and found the alien waiting for them when they got there, and a small ship approached from the west. It was one of the Aranui vessels, but none of them had ever seen one up close with their own eyes. The vessel looked like a small transport or reconnaissance craft, perhaps even a fighter. It couldn't have been large enough to carry more than a handful of the aliens.

The craft came into land so smoothly, and with such precision, it didn't appear real. Once on the ground, a ramp came down, and two of the Aranui stepped out. Behind them two large crates floated under their own power, seemingly under some kind of control by the creatures that led them. They stopped, and the crates lowered to the ground. Irala stepped up to them, and the lids opened, revealing some kind of bizarre looking pistol. Like the Aranui vessels, it looked like a sculpted or spun piece of steel. There was not a button, switch, or even a hard edge in sight.

Taylor picked up one of the weapons and marvelled at its precision manufacture, but could not help but laugh at the shape.

"Looks like a cordless drill," he said. The main receiver was shaped like a torpedo, leading to a grip with no trigger guard. Then a bulbous section protruded from the lower grip and pointed forwards in parallel with the receiver. Several of the others laughed, but to their surprise, Irala picked up one of the weapons and shot Taylor in the face. He was knocked back into the dirt and incapacitating for moment. His head was spinning like he'd been punched full force in the face.

Taylor tried to shake off the effects. His vision was a little blurred, and he felt his strength had just been stripped away from him. As he looked up and his vision began to return, he saw Irala's hand being offered. He took it and was hauled to his feet. He had gotten so used to seeing a hologram, it had never occurred to him that the alien himself was actually present.

"That wasn't a nice experience," stated Taylor.

"This is a stun weapon that has been built for the practice of combat scenarios. It can be calibrated to roughly simulate the type of weapon you want."

Next he pulled a short truncheon-like object from the crate.

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