Battle Earth: 12 (10 page)

“Because we still don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with. Down there we have help and manpower in abundance. I don’t want to die alone up here, Captain.”

“I will have to request permission to land. I doubt we’ll get it,” he replied.

“Then don’t ask. You might be in command of this ship, Captain, but I am in command of this mission, and I say put this ship down on Ony. Anyone has a problem with that, and they can take it up with me.”

“Aye, aye, Sir.”

Taylor looked at Jafar. He had set up his pig on one of the tripods overlooking the main and one of the secondary entrances to the docking bay. Silva had taken a seat on a box nearby and Rains' legs dangled from the side of the copter he sat in, a rifle resting across his legs.

"Guess this didn't all go to plan?" asked the Lieutenant.

Taylor shook his head as he thought over everything that had happened.

"Every time I think I have Erdogan figured out, he springs something new on us. I thought he'd want to try and finish me himself. I thought his ego would allow for nothing else."

"He's scared," added Silva.

Taylor looked unsure; it wasn't a position he had considered.

"You really think so?"

"You've rocked him. He's getting hit in lightning attacks that he cannot stop. For all he knows, we could turn up on his doorstep or at his bedside and slit his throat. You've gotten too close."

"Not close enough," he sighed.

"Hey, Taylor?" Rains asked casually, "Tell me something."

He nodded for Eddie to go on.

"Are you the hunter or the hunted? Seems like...well...I don't know anymore."

Taylor had no answer for it. None of them spoke another word until they felt the ship put down on the surface of Ony. The docking bay ramps opened, and they found more than a hundred soldiers and marines surrounded them. Guardians filled their ranks also. In between them was a large-scale body scanner to detect for clones.

"What is this?" Rains asked.

"It's all right," Taylor said quietly, "They're right to be suspicious. I'd do just the same."

Barclay strode out into the docking back to Taylor.

"We've been ordered to clear the ship while the Marine detachment scours the decks."

Taylor nodded and headed out down the ramp of the docking bay beside the Captain. As he reached the clone scanner, he turned back to see they had less than a hundred personnel with them.

"This all that made it?"

"So far."

Taylor knew the frigate would have had a crew close to two hundred, as well as those he had taken aboard.

"I'm sorry," he said softly to Barclay.

But Barclay stood firm and upright and quickly contested his statement.

"You will not apologise to me, Colonel. The losses we suffered are tragic, and they will not be forgotten, but it was not you would caused their deaths."

"But I led you out there. It was my mission and my plan."

"And you got us out alive. I will gladly serve alongside you again, Colonel."

Taylor couldn't believe Barclay could be so understanding. He had the same stiff upper lip and willpower that Jones had always held, and it was admirable.

"Lay down your weapons!" one of the officers awaiting them ordered.

Jafar had carried the 50CMG out with him and looked to Taylor for confirmation. He nodded in approval before unclipping his rifle and handing it to an armourer and his assistants who awaited them nearby. His pistol and Assegai were next, as well as the two grenades on his webbing and all of his ammunition. He was then ushered forward to the scanner. It was larger than any other he had seen before, broad enough for ten men to walk through and tall enough to accommodate even a Guardian.

As he neared the device, he began to wonder if the clone of Jones knew what he was before he turned on them. He began thinking if any of them would know if they truly were who they thought they were. He was first through the scanner with Barclay. They passed through without incident and turned to watch the others follow after them. To Taylor's relief, they all passed the test.

"Please come with me, Colonel," said a Captain.

He did not recognise the woman who stood almost as tall as he was and spoke with a thick French accent. Taylor didn't question the request, but he knew he was in for trouble. The mission had been the biggest disaster since the debacle with the clones he brought back under the guise of Kelly and his people. Taylor had no excuses and felt more angry with himself than anyone else could.

Jafar followed him and Barclay had come, too.

"I'll be sure to make sure you do not suffer because of this. This is on me," Taylor said to him.

"Nobody can fault you for it, Colonel. My biggest concern right now is laying our dead to rest, caring for the few wounded, and to find replacements."

"Good luck finding them. Personnel are the one resource we don't have in abundance."

"Tourville was pretty screwed after that last mission. I'd suggest you put in a request with the Admiral for her crew to join you until such time as they can return to their ship. Should give you a chance to train up new personnel."

"Think he'd go for it?"

"The Admiral will go with whatever gets us the most ships in operation. They may not like it, but these times call for exceptional measures."

"Half the crew French aboard a British warship? It's a novel idea."

Taylor couldn't believe how calm and jovial the Captain could be at such a time, but he remembered Jones was just the same. He suffered deep down the same as the rest of them, but his confidence inspired like nothing else could.

He was led through into HQ and ushered into the comms centre where he found the Admiral. General White stood next to him balanced on one crutch. He was about to speak but was surprised to see Irala standing opposite them.

“One big happy family now, are we?” he asked.

“In a manner of speaking,” said White.

Taylor could tell from the General’s tone that something wasn’t quite right, but he couldn’t understand what it could be, so put it down to the failure of his own mission.

“I found the troops who attacked the Tourville, and if only I’d had the resources to take them on, maybe we could have…”

“Colonel Taylor,” said Irala.

He looked to Lasure first to see if he had anything to say, but the Admiral wouldn’t look him in the eye. Taylor couldn’t work out what was going on. He expected some ridicule and consequence for his failed operation, but this was an entirely different and disconcerting experience. So he turned to Irala, who was the only one who wanted to speak to him.

“Colonel Taylor. You should never have been allowed to travel to the location of the ambush of the Tourville. Admiral Lasure did not want you to go and knew it was a dangerous risk, and an unnecessary one.”

Taylor couldn’t believe what he was hearing and could not understand where the hostility was coming from.

“Colonel Taylor, you must submit to the authority of the chain of command,” added Irala.

Taylor was shocked. He couldn’t help but feel that Irala was sounding more and more like one of his superior officers all the time, and not one of the good ones. Taylor felt his defences come up, and he lashed out.

“I’ve always done what I thought was best for us all. I went out there to do some good. It wasn’t a failure, but we paid a heavy price, more than we can afford. Not every operation can be a perfect success. This is war.”

“And neither of our people can risk losing a single life carelessly.”

“I’m sorry, but what the hell is going on here?” Taylor demanded, looking over to White and Lasure.

White looked away. It was clear he didn’t approve, but neither did he feel it was his place to say.

“Your command structure has proven inadequate to present the results necessary to win this war,” said Irala.

Taylor ignored the alien and kept his eyes firmly locked on Lasure.

“What is going on here, Admiral?”

“I…I have given over command, overall command…to Irala and his people. They will coordinate our combined forces from now on.”

“What? What the hell did you do that for?”

“You brought us into this war, Colonel,” added Irala, “Now we are making sure we prevail.”

Taylor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He liked Irala, but he had not seen this coming.

“You can’t do this,” he said to Lasure, ignoring Irala entirely.

“It is done,” replied Lasure in a defeatist tone.

“Did they force this on you?”

Lasure shrugged.

“Well what the hell does that mean?”

“Colonel?” Irala asked.

Taylor could see he wasn’t getting anywhere, so he finally turned to face the alien.

“Okay, tell me what the hell is going on!”

“We want this war to succeed, Colonel. Now that we are in this, we will not risk any asset more than we have to. I have taken command of the war efforts. A Marshal, if you will.”

Taylor shook his head.

“No way, that’s not how this works.”

“Yes, it is now, Colonel. You will submit to the chain of command.”

“Or what?” he asked aggressively.

“This has to be done, Colonel,” Lasure interrupted, “We have a genuine chance here. Irala and his people are so far ahead of the human race, and we need their help. I’ve thought this through, and I believe it is the best course of action for us all. This isn’t about ego or responsibility or anything else. This way we stand the best chance of winning, isn’t that you want? Isn’t that what we all want?”

Taylor couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He could feel his blood boiling, and he knew he had to get out of there before he did something he shouldn’t.

“This won’t work, and it can’t last,” he said, turned, and stormed out. Barclay stayed behind, but Jafar followed close by as usual.

“Colonel Taylor!” Lasure shouted as he headed out the door.

“Leave him be,” replied White.

Taylor stormed out. He could barely breathe, and he could feel his pulse racing. His heart was pounding, and he felt the temperature in his head building. Then he began to feel sick.

“This is not what you wanted?” Jafar asked.

“How can it be what I wanted? How long have we fought to be free? I go away on one mission and come back to find we’ve given it all up.”

“But you like Irala and his people?”

“Yeah, and I like you, too, but I wouldn’t pin stars to your uniform and start taking your orders…no offense.”

“Why would that be an offense?”

Taylor shrugged and then nodded in agreement.

“Glad to know someone’s head is in the right place.”

Jafar looked confused as if he had no idea as to what Taylor meant. Silva strode into view, and Morris was close by his side. They could see the distress on his face.

“What’s up, Colonel?” Silva asked.

Taylor barely knew how to explain it for a moment, but finally the words rolled off his tongue.

“Lasure just gave away everything we have worked for.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at Morris. “He’s given command of our fleet over to Irala.”

“What? Why?” Silva asked.

Taylor shook his head.

“Well you did elevate the Captain to that position of authority.”

“What’s are you saying, Morris?”

Morris sighed as if he was insulted by the prospect of having to explain himself.

“He’s your monkey,” he began, “You elevated a lowly ship’s captain to the head of the fleet, the overall commander of the entire free peoples of the human race. Then you left him to manage it all. Not so surprising he turned to someone else, is it?”