Battle Earth I

Chapter 7

Four men stumbled into the room where Kelly sat, they carried one badly wounded man between them. The old Commander looked on with a woeful expression. Seeing his people die was a heart wrenching experience, but he knew that he could not win any victories without losses.

“Sir, we took down two of the bastards, but we have two dead and two wounded. We can’t win with this sort of attrition, there’s just not enough of us.”

Kelly looked around the room at the bedraggled forces. They had adopted an old underground research facility as their new base. So far it was unknown to the enemy forces. A hundred men and women lay about the facility, tightly packed in. Thousands more were crammed into any safe place that could be found.

The regular missions into the building above ground were risky, but a necessary risk in order to continue rescuing survivors and foraging for supplies. It was apparent that many of the alien forces had left the Moon to assist in the battle for Earth, but there was still more than enough of a force to stop them from fighting in open combat.

“We need to contact Earth, we need their help. Guns, ammunition and food. Without it we are dead,” said Kelly.

“What are they going to do for us? You saw what the Earth forces did when we were attacked! They turned tail and ran!”

Kelly looked at the angry soldier, Private Doyle of the MDF, who had risen to commander of a section simply through battlefield casualties.”

“I will remind you, Doyle, that many UEN soldiers still fight and die beside us!”

“Not by choice, they’d have got out if they could!”

Kelly got up and stormed across the room, shouting at the man.

“Don’t you think we’d all have gotten out if we knew what was coming? We defend these lands for the people, not for the damn land!”

Doyle looked sheepish. He knew he’d been an idiot, but it was a hard fact to stomach or admit. The Moon inhabitants had become hugely attached to their lands, despite few Earth dwellers understanding the appeal.

“We have a steady supply of air down here with plenty of processors feeding into the old bunkers we are using. However, we were never equipped for war. We have too few guns, an ever dwindling supply of ammunition and food is running out quickly.”

“You think anyone down there can or will be willing to help, Sir?”

“Yes, I do. But if they’re not aware of these hardships we are facing it is unlikely they will, so I cannot guarantee we will get any assistance. But I’m confident that if they knew they would do everything in their power to help us.”

“I could get a signal out,” said Lewis.

Kelly shot a glance at the communications officer, a capable man who had never experienced field duties.

“Are you certain?”

“If at least some of the equipment is still undamaged, then yeah, I can do it.”

“Where would you need to be?”

“At one of the comms stations, nearest is just above the surface from here on the third floor of the library.”

“Good, then let’s not waste any time, prep anything you need, I’ll assemble a message so there is no time wasted. Doyle, get your wounded taken care of, but return immediately with a full section, draw troops from wherever you have to.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Doyle rushed off to carry out his orders. The demoralised young man had seen a glimmer of hope and was chasing it with all his energy. Kelly turned back to the comms officer who looked uneasy. He was impressed at the man’s courage in volunteering, but he could see the fear in his face and body language.

“Lewis, what else do we need?”

“Just me, get me to those rooms with the message you want to send and pray everything still works!”

Ten minutes later the men were assembled and ready to move. They strapped on their body armours. The experiences they’d in combat had shown the armours to be far less effective than against man-made weapons. But they could still save a man from glancing blows, as well as fragmentation and trauma from explosions that some of the pulse weapons caused.

Kelly felt foolish in his armour, too old to be wearing it and too old to be fighting. Despite this, he would not ask the men to risk what he would not. Getting that signal out could be the single most important thing they did for survival and he wanted to ensure it went to plan. Twelve men were all that were going up into the surface buildings. They had many more capable fighters, but they couldn’t fight the enemy in open combat. They had become reliant on staying out of contact or ambushing one or two of the Mechs at a time.

“All ready?” he asked.

The men nodded. He looked around the room to see civilians and soldiers alike staring at them. Their faces were blank, still in shock. Many of them had seen friends, family and neighbours killed by the invading creatures. He knew he could not leave without giving them some hope.

“Listen up! All of you!”

The room was near silent before, but now you could hear a pin drop.

“We are going to get help from Earth! I am confident that if they can find a way, they will help us! We didn’t come down here to die, we came here to survive! We’ll beat these sons of bitches. I know you have lost a lot, we all have, but we still have each other! We will survive and we will win!”

There was no response, no cheering, the people were still too shocked to show any major emotion. He could see that a few faces looked doubtful, but many more had just a faint touch of hope.

“Martinez, if I don’t return, you’re in charge.”

Kelly had known the officer for many years. He liked the man and trusted him with many things, but knew that he wouldn’t be capable of leading them to survival, let alone victory. Despite this, he had no better choice. He made the gesture out of procedure rather than anything else.

“Let’s go!”

They strode out of the room towards one of the access tunnels they used to get up to the surface structure. A ladder led up to a small storage room on the ground floor of the library building above. The underground access tunnels had been carefully hidden and forgotten by most overtime. They had been sealed off for government and military use only.

Kelly climbed the ladder first, lifting the hatch that was well concealed under the carpet of the small room. He raised it only a few centimetres, listening for the sound of the huge Mechs constantly patrolling the buildings above ground. The area was quiet, a welcome piece of news. He lifted it higher and climbed out into the room, followed by his team which completely filling it.

“Put the hatch back down,” he whispered.

Cautiously opening the door, the Commander stepped out into the corridor of the ground floor of the library. He had become very familiar with the structure years ago, when he regularly visited in order to meet various groups to discuss the documentation of the colonisation of the Moon. Libraries had seen a major resurgence since people wished to publically discuss the things they read.

The lights were still on. The colony would run without any maintenance for years to come. The highly developed nuclear power source would keep the power on, as well as oxygen and water processing going almost indefinitely. He stepped towards the staircase, not wanting to risk activating the elevators, even though they were working.

The building was eerily silent and as they reached the stairway it immediately became clear that every sound they made echoed through the tall stairwell. Kelly had seen enough of the enemy to know that he never wanted to see them again. The thought of going above ground scared him more than anything in his life, but to do nothing would condemn every surviving colonist to death.

“Get down!” shouted Jones.

An energy pulse from one of the enemy vehicle’s mounted cannons smashed into the building above them, rocking the structure. Glass and debris crashed all around them. The body armour suits were all that kept the men from sustaining serious injury. The Captain was momentarily stunned by the deafening crash of the building collapsing around him. Clawing his way to his feet, he shook off the dust covering his body.

“Get on the guns! Keep firing!”

Charlie ran along the line of the corridor that had been their firing position. Several of his men were stumbling about trying to regain their composure. His hearing began to recover and the first sounds were the French guns around their position.

“Where are you going, Sir?” shouted Saunders.

“I need to talk to Girard!”

The comms equipment had been jammed soon after the siege had begun. Jones had been expecting this from the very beginning after Taylor had warned him about the incident on the Moon. The lack of communication created a number of problems for the ground forces which they will still unable to overcome.

The Captain ducked and weaved along the corridor as explosions continued as his troops fired back into the street. Jones had read about such vicious city warfare in the history books, but he didn’t think he’d personally ever have to experience it. The modern armies existed really as a police force and acted only in the intervention of small military conflicts.

Jones reached the door of the building where they had been stationed. He looked into the street where several French tanks were stationed and firing as quickly as they could. Debris from the buildings above swept across the street. Charlie moved forward but stopped abruptly as a section of concrete large enough to crush a man smashed in front of him. He immediately went down on one knee, not to present a target to the enemy. He looked to his left where the fortifications were built, the enemy had already reached the perimeter and the two companies in his battalion had fled back to their positions.

To his right he could see Girard shouting at two of his officers by his command vehicle. Things were not going well. Jones got to his feet and ran along the rubble-strewn road keeping his head low until he reached the Colonel. Just as he got there the two officers were given their final grilling and sent on their way. As he neared the vehicle he could see Major Chandra was next to the Colonel.

“Captain Jones, how goes the southern defences?”

“Not great, Colonel, we are giving them hell. The narrow corridor is giving a good field of fire, but we’re burning through ammo.”

“Captain, that is exactly the discussion we were just having,” said Chandra.

“We’re holding just a square kilometre of the city centre but it’s becoming more difficult to hold. However, the city reserve ammunition stores remain intact,” Girard added.

“Where are they stored, Sir?”

“In a secret location beneath a building half a kilometre to the north.”

“Outside our positions, Colonel?”

“That’s right, Captain. Jones, as you know, our communication signals are being jammed. The last news we received was that an airlift was being organised to pull us out, but it’s taking time to organise.”

“Why, Sir? Surely they could evac us within an hour or two?”

“Not that anyone is saying it, Captain, but it seems like we are the only forces to have held out. We are providing valuable time for the civilians to flee and the rest of our forces to amass.”

Jones shook his head. They were buying time for everyone else with their lives. Ultimately he knew it was what they were paid to do as soldiers, but he never thought that it would actually be asked of them.

“Captain, we could potentially be here until tomorrow, but our ammunition stores will only last another couple of hours at most.”

“I am getting the message, Major, what can I do?”

“We need a company to volunteer, I am hoping that would be you, Jones.”

The Captain knew he really had no choice in the matter. Not only that, but he was sick of taking a pounding in their southern positions.

“I’m organising some armour for you now, Captain. You’ll have three heavy tanks and three APCs. Between them they’ll be able to carry more than enough ammunition to keep us in the fight.”

“What sort of resistance do we expect, Sir?”

“I have planned a route for you to take which hopefully should present as few problems as possible. Ultimately, Captain, we simply don’t know. Do whatever you can to bring those supplies back, without them we are finished!”

Jones thought hard about the situation, realising the desperate situation they were in and what weight was being placed on his shoulders. He saluted the two other officers before running off to gather his company. He’d lost so many men, but now he was worrying less about how many casualties he was taking, and more about how many he could save.

“Major! The General is requesting you immediately!” shouted Friday.

The Major was stood with a grin on his face and a revolving grenade launcher in his arms. The weapon had long been decommissioned by Earth force militaries. It had been considered completely at odds with the modern policing actions that troops carried out. The eight shot, 30mm launcher fired formidable armour piercing or high explosive rounds. Taylor’s face quickly turned to concern as the order was relayed.

“Any idea as to what it’s regarding?”

“No, Sir, the General wants only you and STAT!”

Taylor put the launcher down on the table. Up ahead was the burning wreck of an obsolete armoured vehicle they had been using for testing their new weapons. Alongside the launcher was an array of heavy and unusual weaponry.

“Time to cut this short, gentlemen! Captain, I want you to complete the report for urgent operational requirements. Silva and Parker, grab as much of this kit as you can and get it to our company barracks immediately. I’ll be back soon to introduce the new tools to our men!”

His troops leapt into action as the Major rushed out to where his jeep was parked. The base was still a hive of activity. A number of troops had stopped to observe the tests they were carrying out. Everyone could see that this was a prelim to all out war. Many of the marines on duty stared at the Major as he came out of the stores warehouse, desperate to ask him questions. They all saluted as he passed them. There was no longer anyone on the base of any rank that didn’t recognise Taylor.

The heat in the base was reaching unbearable levels, compounded by the mass activity and necessity of bearing of arms. Taylor wiped his brow and shook off a handful of sweat as he raced across the base. Sweat pockets filled his uniform, only disguised by the disruptive camouflage pattern that he was wearing. He rushed into the operations room without opposition from the guards.

“Major!”

“Sir, the report is on its way.”

“Good work, Taylor, but that’s not why I called you here. We just received a signal from the Moon colony!”

“Is it genuine, Sir? I didn’t think anyone could survive that onslaught.”

“Never underestimate Kelly, we served together a long time ago. If anyone can survive on that occupied hell hole, it will be him!”

“Then he is alive, Sir?”

“And kicking. The surviving forces and civilians have moved underground into a series of bunkers, research centres and tunnels. It seems the survivors are in their tens of thousands.”

“Christ, and we left them there!”

“Major, you had your orders and you carried them out. This is not about right and wrong. We needed the Prime Minister and yourself back on Earth. You could have done nothing to evacuate their numbers!”

Taylor nodded. He felt shame for the loss of so many lives, but he knew that there was nothing more they could have done.

“The Moon has become a guerrilla war. Colonel Visser is dead, but many of the soldiers stationed there, as well as the militia, fight on. Kelly is organising regular missions to find supplies, but they face one big problem. Even when they can get those bastards alone, it’s still a hell of a fight to bring them down.”

“Yes, Sir, I can fully understand that.”

“I refuse to leave those poor bastards to die on that rock. Our forces will continue to amass ready for a major ground assault, but until that time, your new task is to get supplies to Kelly.”

“General White, we are facing worldwide disaster! We must look to our own defences!” shouted Smith.

“We will face our own battles in the days to come, but I will not and cannot leave our people to die up there!”

“Sir, I can fully appreciate the sentiment, but last time we were there we left with our tail between our legs. We can’t outrun or outgun their ships!”

“Not with our technology, Major, but with theirs we can.”

“Sir?”

“Our tech guys have been going over two enemy vessels which we have captured in lightly damaged condition.”

“What happened to their occupants?” asked Taylor.

“That is a subject for another time. From now on you will be liaising with the research and tech teams handling the alien vessels. You will also be organising the Moon supply drop. We cannot send troops up there, but food and weapons are the priority. I want you to find pilots that are both capable and crazy enough to fly such a mission, and ensure that the cargo contains weapons that will give them a fighting chance. Understood?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The Major’s grin stretched across his face. Leaving the Moon colonists was the most difficult decision of his life, but now he was being given a chance to redeem himself.

“I have assigned you my driver, Sergeant Gibbons. You can bring your company officers of NCOs in on this programme, but beyond that, this is between us, Major. Do what you have to do.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Taylor turned quickly and ran out of the room to be greeted by Gibbons who had obviously already been briefed on the situation.

“Sir, I am here to take you to the research facility.”

“Not quite yet, Sergeant, we have a few people to pick up!”

The two men jumped into their jeep and stormed away from the Command Centre, making their way for the Major’s barracks at speeds far beyond those allowed on base. Not a single marine dared confront their breach of base rules, not even the MPs. Major Taylor had always been an important officer on base, leading one of the most advanced and experienced companies in the United States Armies. But now he was not just important, but known. No one would stand in his way.

They reached the barracks and Taylor leapt off, telling the Sergeant to stay put. He rushed into his office to see that Captain Friday was already writing out the reports for the release and request of the hardware they had tested.

“Captain, bring that with you, we have a new task on our hands!”

Friday leapt from his chair and was out the door with his datapad in a split second. Taylor had always appreciated the fact that the Captain never questioned his orders and never dragged his heels. Suarez strolled across the parade square as they jumped into the vehicle.

“Lieutenant! You’re in charge until we return!” Taylor ordered.

The Major looked back to Captain Friday who was in the back of the Jeep

“Captain, we’re en route to oversee a special mission, I need you to contact Eddie Rains and tell him to meet us at…”

Taylor looked to the General’s driver who was at the wheel.

“Where are we headed, Sergeant?”

“Hangar 89.”

“Got it, Major.”

“And tell him to bring three capable pilots with him!” Taylor added.

It was half an hour before they arrived at the giant hangar that was situated a way out from the base and on the edge of a vehicle-testing zone. It was an isolated and desolate area with vast open plains surrounding it. The three men stopped their vehicle outside, the small jeep was dwarfed by the huge storage facility.

The hangar had little sign of activity, with just one small guardroom built onto the front. It appeared to be a sleepy old structure, forgotten and lost in time, in lieu of the modern structures they now operated from.

“I thought this place went inactive twenty years ago?” said Friday.

“I guess some things are just above our pay grade,” replied Taylor.

A vehicle approached from the direction they had come. The Major turned to see the familiar sight of Eddie Rains’ faded red bandana wrapped around his head as he sat up on the back of the vehicle. Dust kicked up all around them and into their eyes as the vehicle slid to a halt and the pilots leapt out. Ever the gung ho rule breakers, it was if they simply rebelled as a matter of tradition.

“You got a job for us, Major?” Rains called.

“That’s right, Eddie, it’ll be wild, dangerous, and you’d be an idiot to accept it!”

The Lieutenant turned to his friends with a smile.

“You called the right men, Major!”

Two men appeared from the guard station and they were well equipped. Far from the old and out of shape old soldiers that were employed to guard most storage depots, they were young and fit. They wore full battle attire and didn’t lack an ounce of professionalism.

“Welcome to Hangar 89, gentlemen, home to every secret project and finding since this base opened.”

“You’re not just the General’s driver are you, Sergeant?”

“No, Sir, I am his liaison to this facility and advisor on all matters involving it.”

“A lot of responsibility for a Sergeant.”

“I retired a Major, Sir, then worked for the CIA. I was posted to him with the rank of Sergeant and as the General’s driver as to maintain anonymity in my work.”

The security guards looked at them from a distance, studying every element of the men who stood before them. They’d already been given clearance for the facility, and the guards never moved closer than ten metres. A large door opened in the front of the hangar that was large enough for a truck to drive through, but still tiny in comparison to the vast bay doors.

“The hangar is close to half a kilometre long, with three underground levels and two above ground. What is of interest to us today, Major, are the captured enemy vessels.”

“What condition are they in?”

“They aren’t flight worthy if that’s what you’re asking, but there’s plenty of interesting material to salvage from them.”

Gibbons led them through the huge entrance and a temporary corridor existing only to hide whatever the building housed from the outside world. It took a few moments for their eyes to adjust from the striking light of the day to the artificially lit warehouse. Before them were the two craft as the General had said, evidently the latest acquisitions in the hangar. The room stretched as far as they could see with at least a hundred staff members in sight.

“These two craft were captured soon after the Moon base fell. Our intelligence suggests that they were advance patrol ships. One was hit by our fighters and crash landed in the desert, the other was struck by one of our destroyer’s EMP pulse defences when it entered its grid zone.”

“Man, I’d love to take one out for a spin,” said Rains.

“Well that’s not far from the reality of the situation, Lieutenant. The plan is to retrofit the alien engine tech to something you lot can fly. We need something fast enough to outrun whatever they’ve got so that you lot can get to the Moon and back.”

“There are survivors, Sir?”

“That’s right, Rains, lots of them. We need to deliver food and weapons to the survivors who are still putting up a fight there.”

One of the other pilots jumped into the conversation before the Major could continue.

“But we’re aerial pilots, Sir, space isn’t our domain.”

“Well that is true, son,” said the Sergeant. “However, we need combat pilots for this mission, not space haulers. Now, every minute we waste puts more lives at risk.”

“You heard the man, Rains. Our task is to get supplies to the Moon survivors as quickly as possible. In my book, that means tomorrow. Our task is to get two vessels kitted out with the enemy engine technology and en route by then, with you boys at the stick.”

“It’s a tall order, Sir,” Rains replied. “It takes experts months and years to design aircraft, how are we going to manage it by tomorrow?”

“Look, we aren’t designing anything from scratch. This is a bodge job. We use the smallest space worthy vessels available and strap on those alien engines, job done!”

“It’s a crazy idea, Major, but what we come out with will be badass!” shouted Rains.

Eddie stepped down the ramps to look over the damaged alien vessels that were laid out across the floor. He was admiring the fuselages that didn’t resemble anything he was familiar with.

“You think it can be done, Eddie?”

“Damn right, Sir, you want us to build a monster, that idea tickles me just a little.”

“Right then, get to work. Whatever you build doesn’t have to be pretty. It just has to work. I will arrange what cargo you’ll need to take, but the experts here have already found the best ships to start work with, get on it!”

Eddie lifted his arm in an almost comical salute with a broad grin across his face. Anyone else would have been beside themselves if they’d been asked to do what Eddie was, but he found the challenge entertaining.

Taylor had Captain Friday assemble a viable supply list that night. A list that would be vital for the survivors as well as feasible to carry on the new ships they were building. He left Eddie, his pilots and the tech guys to work that day and night, knowing there was nothing more he could do.

It was another uneasy night for the Major, knowing the pressure he was under to succeed in what could only be called an insane mission. Yet another night he slept alone for the few uncomfortable hours that he could manage. He had never longed for Eli Parker’s company. They’d fallen into bed when the time was right. Now he was beginning to wish she was home to greet him, to have some comfort in difficult times.

Waking up in a sticky sweat, Taylor pulled his uniform on as he begrudgingly imagined the results of their project. He had faith in Eddie Rains, even if he did resemble a drug-crazed hippy. The Lieutenant was one of the best pilots and most competent men he’d ever known. He just didn’t like to be seen as such.

The horn on Gibbon’s vehicle blared out violently outside before he’d even got his gun on his side. It was a make or break day for the supply drops to the stricken colonists. Many thousands of lives were depending on him and the project, he only prayed that they could succeed. Mitch ran down to the vehicle below, sweat already dripping through his clothes.

“Fine day for it, Major!” shouted Gibbons.

“If we were on the beach, there was no war and we had a bar full of ice cold beers, I might agree with you, Sergeant!”

Taylor climbed aboard, his concern transparent despite the fact that he tried to hide it beneath locker room humour.

“Don’t worry, Major, I’ve already been down to the hangar. Your boys have been working straight through the night, they’ve done more than anyone could have expected of them.”

The Major shook his head in gratitude and relief.

“Right then, let’s see it for ourselves!”

Approaching the hangar across the long open plain, Mitch could see that the huge hangar bay doors were wide open for all to see. It was perhaps the first time ever during daylight hours for a century.

“Nothing to hide anymore, Major. In a matter of hours, every son of a bitch on this base is gonna know about our creations, no point wasting time hiding now.”

“You really think they are gonna work?”

Gibbons nodded with a nervous expression on his face.

“I damn well hope so, Major.”

Pulling up outside the doors, Taylor could see that Eddie was walking around the nose of the vessel they’d been working on, admiring his work or perhaps inspecting it. There were two ships, one in front of the other. They were Lampeter class ‘spaceboats’. A small but armoured ship capable of carrying a hundred soldiers and equipment, or plenty of supplies. It was intended to act as a military transport and supply vessel.

A fraction of the size of the Deveron they had previously travelled on to the Moon, and substantially faster. It was mainly intended to act as a fast deployment vessel during any public disturbances, allowing earth forces to rapidly deploy troops to the Moon or any of the Space stations.

“You like her, Sir?”

“If it does the job, Eddie!”

The quirky pilot turned to greet the Major.

“It’s like the old fast boats the drug cartels used to outrun the authorities back in the day.”

Taylor looked around the fuselage of the vessel, it had two alien engines fitted, one slung under the belly, the other sitting on the top.

“We’ve kept her original engines, Sir. She was a fast bird to begin with, probably not enough to outrun what we’re facing, but a good start. With these wondrous beasts bolted onto her and she’ll outfly anything we’ve ever seen!”

“I certainly hope so. How much of the cargo capacity have you lost adding these things?”

“Nothing at all, Major. The energy sources those alien bastards use are fascinating, everything we have fitted is external. The tech guys here have worked out the engine tech, it’ll be a while till they understand the weapon systems and that chameleon tech they have.”

“So you think this can work? What’s your ETA?”

“This baby is ready, Sir, other one is having finishing touches. Captain Friday already has our cargo en route, I hope to be in the air in two hours.”

“Isn’t that a little premature, Lieutenant, you haven’t even tested these things yet?”

“We’ve tested everything we need to, Sir. The ships run just as they used to, the alien engines fire up and work as they should, any flight runs would just draw attention to ourselves.”

The Major nodded. He didn’t like the situation, but knew that under the wartime conditions they faced, some risks had to be taken.

“Lieutenant, I’ll leave you to it, let me know when you’re ready to fly.”

“Yes, Sir!”

Eddie ran off in a hive of excitement as he went back to work on his precious new ships. The Major climbed back aboard Gibbons’ vehicle and continued on to General White’s Command Centre. He walked in to find a familiar sight. Nothing had changed since his last visit, other than the enemy lines having pushed further into France and Spain.

“Major! Give us an update on your situation,” said White.

“Sir. The supply boats will be ready for lift-off in two hours. Additionally, Captain Friday has completed our report on operational requirements and further procurement.”

“Well done, Major, I have already received your report. While I congratulate you on your work with the alien technology, your report can be described as nothing but farfetched.”

“Major, you are asking for the manufacture of tens of thousands of new weapons, perhaps more, how can our country pay for this?” asked Smith.

Taylor looked at the General dismayed. In previous years he’d gotten used to budget constraints and concerns about overspending, but he had imagined that they were beyond that now.

“Sir, we are no longer a peacetime country that is maintaining our forces. We are at war with an enemy far superior to us, we need every advantage we can get in this fight.”

“Major, we have the best trained and equipped army in the world, is that not enough?”

“No, General Smith, it isn’t. The EUA forces in France and Spain have just as good equipment as our boys, and they’re taking a beating. Best equipment and army in the world accounts for nothing when we face an otherworldly enemy, Sir.”

“You took the bastards down, Major, you didn’t need anything more than you had!”

“All due respect, General. You didn’t see them. You didn’t fight them. I lost many more marines than we took down of theirs. You want to play a numbers game and hope we have more men to throw away than them, fine! But I suggest you grab a rifle and join the tally!”

Taylor threw his chair back and jumped to his feet, storming from the room without recognition of his superiors. He was not one to be disrespectful, but when their leaders were not taking the lives of the men seriously, it was a hard thing to endure. Any one of the Generals could have had him disciplined for the way he acted towards them, but none had the heart.

Striding out into the parking lot, Mitch leapt into Gibbons’ vehicle and signalled for him to go on before anyone could stop them. Taylor looked back at the Command Centre as they sped off towards the hangar, but nobody appeared to chase him. Taylor only had two things on his mind at that moment, the lives of the Moon colonists and his European counterparts.

Taylor passed anxiously along the lines of marines continually on high alert and patrolling the base. It seemed that more than ever was resting on his shoulders. The Moon extraction mission of the Prime Minister was an ambitious task for the Major’s company, but still within their remit. Organising a highly dangerous and never before planned supply drop to the Moon under wartime conditions, using technology that they had never seen before, was a wholly different affair.

As their vehicle rolled up towards the hangar they could see that the two ships had already been pulled out onto the old derelict runway. With the huge alien engines fitted and rudimentary landing gear, they were an odd hybrid of ideas. It looked as if they were built from components that were a hundred years apart in design.

Beside the vehicles were trucks full of the weapons and ammunition that Captain Friday had organised. Taylor had selected a hundred of the 30mm revolving grenade launchers to be sent to the Moon colonists. Armour piercing rounds were supplied in huge quantities, being the only rounds suitable for their environment.

Eddie Rains stood with his arms crossed admiring the work going on before him. It was clear that he enjoyed the attention he got for dressing a long way from regulations, but Taylor was glad of his confidence and composure.

“Lieutenant, give me an update!” shouted Taylor.

He barked his orders before the vehicle had even come to a stop, leaping off as he finished.

“Last load, Major, we’re good to go in five. In fact its time for me to load up, Sir!”

“Good luck, Eddie, I pray you make it there and back, for their sake and yours.”

He reached out his hand to the flight Lieutenant. Rains took it with a grin on his face. Nothing could ever get the pilot down, at least he never showed it. He turned and climbed aboard the craft. It was far larger than his typical mission, but nothing he wasn’t trained on. The extra power of the alien engines would make it feel more extreme than anything he’d ever flown. Taylor knew he must be scared, but he appreciated that Eddie put on a brave face.

The trucks beside the spacecraft cleared out as the doors clamped shut. Each ship had only two pilots and no other crew. They could neither afford nor risk any more personnel. They also needed the maximum capacity for supplies going to the colonists. There were no clearance lights, no control tower and no one to see them off beside Taylor and a select few staff involved in the operation.

Standing a few hundred metres back, Taylor watched Eddie climb into the pilot’s seat in the nose cone of the ship. Each of the vessels was decked out with an adequate selection of weapons controlled remotely by the pilot and co-pilot, but it was little relief when they knew the odds they faced. Speed was the essence of this mission.

Eddie and the other crew fired up the regular engines and the ships quickly lifted off in keeping with their reputation as exceptionally fast and agile vessels for their size. Powering up they lifted off and tilted up to the sky. The ships glimmered as the alien engines fired up and without warning they blasted off, faster than anything any of them had seen in their lives.

“Good luck, Eddie, to all of you!”