Battle Earth VIII

Chapter 9

The officers and senior NCOs sat about a briefing room looking at the blue prints of the German battleship, Nassau. There was utter silence as they stared at it and clearly wracked their brains for a solution to the behemoth they were facing. The air was thick, as none of them had even had a moment to wash since returning from their last mission. Taylor wiped the sweat from his brow as he felt the salt on his mouth from where it was seeping down his face. Eventually Silva broke the silence.

"Sure we can't send the fleet against them?"

Taylor nodded. "The EA fleet would have a better than average chance of victory against everything they have, but not quick enough to stop that grid from firing. If those weapons fire on Earth, it's all over. The EA and any allies we still have will be smashed."

"So we have about a thirty-second window to get past this thing and get to the defence grid before we're blown to shit?" Jones asked.

"Hey, I'm all for saving the planet and all, but this is crazy!" added Rains.

The room was silenced once again and all looked to Taylor.

"Look, I didn't order any of you to be here. I volunteered, and I am not asking any one of you to follow me. That is your choice."

"We want to follow you," said Grey. "We just want to know we're risking our lives with at least a chance of success, and not just being blown out of the sky without a hope in hell."

Taylor nodded. "Most of the ships in the area will be out of action for some time, both ours and theirs, so the Nassau is our primary concern. Thirty seconds of being without power is enough to make her vulnerable."

"You're not thinking what I think you're thinking?"

He nodded. "Yeah, Jones, we have to board her and the defence grid simultaneously."

Silva shook his head. "And with how many men?"

"There are only a handful of ships fast enough to get from beyond the EMP range into action before that thirty seconds is up. I figure we could get maybe a hundred and fifty or so."

"A hundred and fifty to take on a battleship and the defence grid?" asked King. "The Nassau alone probably has a couple of hundred marines aboard."

"Yes, but scattered throughout the vessel and without the combat experience and skills of this Regiment."

"That's a big assumption to make," muttered Jones.

"At this point we are gonna have to make the best of a bad choice of options and go with it. We're leaving within the hour, so we better have a damn good idea of what we're doing," Taylor replied.

They all knew there was little else to be considered.

"Say we can pull this off and stop the defence grid, what happens to us then?" asked Grey.

"We hope the EA fleet can get to us in time to assist and hope for the best. Right now, our main concern must be deactivating those weapons, or it's all over."

They all knew their lives meant nothing compared to the importance of the operation’s success. None of them wanted to say it, but they knew it was true.

"Captain King, I want you and your Company on standby for this. If we can succeed in disabling both targets, you will come to our aid, because trust me, we'll need it. Dupont wants me to take on the defence grid personally, so I'll need a volunteer to lead the Nassau element of this operation."

It was a big thing to ask, and he knew who he wanted for the job.

"Nice to know I'm wanted," said Jones. "Yes, I'll do it."

Taylor nodded in appreciation. He still wasn't certain Jones was quite the man he used to be, but he certainly was still the right soldier for the job.

"Has the US declared war yet?" asked King.

Taylor shook his head.

"As far as I understand it, they recognise the threat the defence grid poses and condemn its use against Earth."

"Well that's a big fucking help."

Taylor grunted. "Well they have at least accepted our position on this and are guaranteeing us all immunity from prosecution for anything they wanted to levy against us should we pull this off."

"And survive," added Silva.

"Then they can at least give us control of the rest of Inter-Allied. Jackson and Ota, two extra Companies could go a long way in aiding King," said Jones.

"I'll see what I can do," he replied, turning his attention to the Nassau diagram.

"This blueprint definitely right?"

"I bloody hope so," replied Jones.

"Commander Phillips says so, and I am inclined to trust his sources," Grey said.

Jones was carefully studying every element of the ship.

"We'll hit them here," he finally stated.

Taylor looked carefully at where he was pointing. It was a power source for the ship’s weapon systems buried many decks below the surface. Taylor looked confused.

"Why there? We need a diversion, that's all."

"You need to be sure you are gonna make it, and the only way to be sure of that is if you aren't getting shot at. If I pinpoint everything at my disposal at that point, there is a fair chance we can give you a clear run. Maybe even a chance of giving our fleet a run at taking her out."

"It's suicide," added King. "Being a diversion is one thing, but you start causing that much trouble, and you'll bring a world of shit down on your head."

Jones shrugged. "We have one chance of getting this done, so let's do it right. All that is important is that we stop that weapon system. I think I can provide the best chance of Taylor making it."

Nobody responded while they waited for Taylor's opinion.

"It's a sound plan," he finally responded. "Anyone offer another in the next five minutes?"

"Board the Nassau and turn her guns on the defence platforms?" asked King.

Taylor mulled it over. "Not a bad plan, but there are too many variables. There are all kinds of ways those weapons could be shut down by the crew before we could make use of them, but I like your thinking. The UEN knew I was coming last time, and I bet they'll expect it again. Let's use that."

"UEN obviously wants your head."

"Yeah, Jones, so you want to be a diversion? You play me. From the moment we board, we go in full environmental suits, visors shut. We'll use voice scramblers to mix our two voices. As far as anyone else is concerned you will be me, and you will be going for the Nassau."

The others couldn't believe what they were hearing. Jones had already volunteered for a crazy mission and was having yet more danger thrust upon him.

"I like it," Jones replied.

"All right, not one word of this switch to anyone outside of this room until we're aboard our craft, you got that?"

They all grunted with approval.

"Right then, you know what you have to do, and Jones, you'll be flying with Rains. We have to give every indication that you are the real Taylor."

"Always saw myself as a Colonel someday," he replied with a smile.

* * *

"Ready?" Jones asked, looking at Taylor.

They were standing in Taylor's quarters and now in each other's uniforms.

"Yep, now remember who you're supposed to be, and try and stay in character. Once they know Colonel Taylor is heading for them, they'll do everything they can to end you."

"Not my first rodeo," Jones jested.

"No. The plan is simple. Stick to it and this can work. Good luck out there." He offered out his hand as a last gesture of friendship before they stepped out publicly. Jones took it gladly.

"You know of all the men and women in the World who could be going up there to do this, it was always going to be us. It always is."

"That is both our honour and our curse, Charlie."

Taylor pulled on the helmet, and Jones did the same. Taylor reached to the controls on the arm of his suit and tapped a few buttons. The visor shut and went to blackout so that his face was covered. Jones did the same.

"Up and at 'em," said Taylor, doing his best to mimic Jones' mannerisms, and the suit modified his accent. Jones shook his head, as it was an eerie thing to hear. They turned and stepped out of the room to find Inter-Allied formed up with helmets on just as Taylor had ordered. Not an ounce of skin could be seen on any of them. Taylor stepped to one side and let Jones go forward to take charge, which he did so with confidence."

"You all know what you have to do. You all know what's at stake! Let's do this right. Load up and move out!"

That was short and sweet, Taylor thought, remembering his rambling speeches at such times. Three ships for each Company were all they had, and he watched as Jones boarded Rains' craft; so few souls. It seemed so insignificant for what they were going to face.

He took his seat to see he was amongst Jones' Company. They were men and women he had known well, but he had commanded few personally in combat. As the doors shut, he got up to address them.

"Listen up! I am sorry to have kept you all in the dark on this one, but it is the way it had to be."

As he said that, he raised his helmet visor. Several others did the same to get a look at him with their own eyes.

"The Nassau isn't our target. It is Captain's Jones'. You are coming with me to the real target. This secrecy was necessary until now. All communications from and to this vessel are now blocked until we reach our destination. I tell you now because once we're up there I want everyone to know the deal. This message is being relayed to the other two ships via platoon commanders."

Nobody said a word, but all raised their faceplates as he continued.

"All you need to know is that somehow we need to stop the defence grid. Every officer and senior NCO amongst us has access codes that will override the system from the inside, but how we do it really doesn't matter. You got that?"

"Yes, Sir!" they shouted.

Every single fighter under his command was from the British Army, and it brought a smile to his face at how bizarre it felt, and yet how little they cared. He looked around to get his bearings of whom he had with him. So many of the British paras he had come to know well were long gone from this world. He panned around, looking at the nametags on those sitting around him. He recognised almost every single one of them, and yet could rarely connect a face with each name.

Sergeant Herbert stood out to him, a tall but quiet man who had so frequently been close at Jones’ side during the worst of it. Taylor couldn’t remember speaking more than a dozen words to him in the time they had served together. The other side of the room he could see Corporals Brown and Harris. There were just twenty-five of them aboard.

“Sergeant Herbert will command his own platoon with Brown his second. The rest of you are with me. Remember, as far as you are concerned, I am Captain Jones, and that is how you will address me. If I should fall, it is essential that you keep going forward. You find a way to disable or destroy the defence grid, you hear me?”

“Yes, Sir!”

Dupont better have some serious reinforcements for us, he thought.

They all knew the EMP would mean they’d be waiting some time for help, but they prayed it would be sooner rather than later. Taylor looked down at his watch. Twenty seconds till the EMP. He counted it down in his head, watching the seconds pass. It finally it hit zero. He stepped up to the cockpit.

“Did it work?”

“That’s affirmative Col…sorry…Captain. Nothing much left to see.”

Taylor looked out to see they were passing out of the atmosphere to complete darkness at a rapid speed.

“Utter blackout up here. Never thought I’d see it in all my days,” the pilot replied.

“Yeah, well, let’s hope it stays that way for a while.”

* * *

Jones was looking out at the same blackness as Taylor and admiring the tranquillity that would be so short lived. He looked back to see Parker sitting in the nearest seat to the cockpit and realised how much Taylor was relying on him. He was leading almost everybody Taylor cared for into a suicidal mission. He had volunteered for it, but he had never asked Taylor to give him command of all those he held so dear.

There was nothing left to say now as they raced towards the silhouette of the Nassau. It was a vast ship that was part battleship and part carrier. There were still no lights visible, but they could see the outlines of a few support vessels floating in space between them.

“Cut all lights, and do whatever you can to avoid detection.”

“Already done, boss,” Eddie replied.

“Cut engines now, everything.”

Rains did so without question, and everything went silent as they soared through space towards the hulking vessel without any noise at all, until Rains broke the silence.

“Really think this can work?” he whispered, seemingly concerned the whole enemy fleet could be listening in.

“Why wouldn’t it?” replied Jones.

“I dunno. Few fools try and take on a fucking battleship, you don’t think that’s a little crazy?”

“It is ambitious.”

Rains chuckled for a moment before the seriousness of his situation silenced him.

“What the hell is that?” asked Jones.

Rains squinted at the space before them. Lights began to appear on the Nassau, and then he saw the light reflect and reveal a small vessel on the path ahead of them. Rains grabbed for the controls to manoeuvre, but he knew they had no power.

“We can’t risk it,” said Jones.

“We don’t put some power down, then we’ll be done for anyway.”

Jones thought about it for just a few seconds before replying. “All right, but the absolute minimum needed to get clear.”

Rains fired the landing boosters to alter their course, but even as he did so, he could see they weren’t going to make it.

“This is gonna be rough.”

“More power!” Jones shouted.

“Too late! Hold on!”

They slammed into the ship that appeared to be a small frigate without power. The impact rocked them hard, and Jones almost fell to his feet. He tried to hang on to a railing. Jones expected the ship to crumble and break apart any moment, but amazingly they were thrown into a spin.

“What the hell, Rains?” he shouted.

“I’m a pilot not a miracle worker!”

“Get us power!”

“I can’t. The engines are shot!”

They were barrelling out of control, and the only relief they had was that they would blend in with all the other craft floating about space.

"Tell me something, Rains!"

"I got no engines. Life support systems are failing."

"Can you get us to the Nassau?"

He looked out to see them approaching rapidly.

"It's not a question of reaching them, but not dying on impact!"

He was frantically trying anything he could to slow them down when he finally managed to fire a few landing thrusters. Jones could see the light they were emitting from the cockpit, but they had larger problems to worry about now.

"We're losing velocity, but not quick enough."

"Any ideas?"

Rains shook his head. "This bird ain't got nothing left to give!"

"If we jump now, let the ship make impact, and then use our own boosters to reduce velocity and make the breach, would that work?"

Rains mulled it over for just two seconds before finally shrugging. "Maybe, best chance we got at least!"

Jones rushed to the door, hit the emergency release, and ripped it open.

"Everyone follow me. Get your speed down quick and head for the breach!"

He jumped out and just had to hope the others would quickly follow. As he entered space, he could see lights firing up all along the hull of the Nassau, and it was a frightening sight to be in her gun line. He hit his boosters and was relieved to see the instant reduction in velocity, and the other couple of dozen troops joined him. Their ship soared past them. It had recovered from its spin but was still racing for the battleship.

Jones could just make out the shape of Taylor's three craft passing close by the stern of the vessel and knew they were cutting it close. He turned back to their own ship and saw it crash into the side of the battleship. Half of the hull smashed over the thick armour; the rest pierced through and punched a hole several metres wide.

We're in business.

He turned to his side to see Rains join him and give him the thumbs up. The times Rains had ended up with them in shoulder-to-shoulder combat now were beyond counting and getting a little silly. As they got to twenty metres, Jones adjusted his positioning and looked around one last time to try and see the two other ships with him, but they were nowhere to be seen. We're on our own, he thought.

Jones tucked in his rifle and shield as close to his body as possible, and they raced for the breach at a speed that was still far faster than he would have liked. He burst through the breach and found the blast doors had already isolated the room. He hit the deck hard and slid twenty metres along the metal flooring, finally crashing into a thick bulkhead and coming to a halt.

He had to hope his suit was fully intact. As he got to his feet, he half expected to come under fire any moment, but it never came. He looked around to see they were inside a fighter maintenance bay, and there was no one to be seen but the twenty-five souls including himself who had breached the hull of the Nassau. Emergency lighting was on, and it was a sign of how quick the ship's systems were recovering. For all the danger they had just jumped into, all Jones could think was, I hope Taylor made it.

"We need to get out of this area now!" he ordered.

Rains was already at a small maintenance door fiddling with something, as Parker tried to find a way past the large blast doors which seemed to be the main way out. Within a few seconds, Rains had the door open and prised apart.

"How in the hell did you do that?" asked Herrera.

"You think this is the first time I've had to break out of somewhere?"

"All right, go, go," said Jones.

He looked down at the Mappad on his arm, trying to work out where they were, but he had no real time information, only the static map he had to interpret himself. There were dozens of fighter bays aboard, and he was desperately trying to look for where the room might be that they had landed in. The last of the group were through with just Rains waiting to shut the door behind him.

"Where will this take us?"

Rains shrugged. "No idea, but it's the only way we'll get out without blowing the place to hell."

Jones knew it was the best option too, but he wished he had even some clue as to where they were. He remembered they had entered at the port side of the vessel, but they could be anywhere within a few dozen floors. The line came to a halt as they waited for Jones to reach the front and make a decision. He pushed on past and saw they had reached a crossroads in what was some kind of maintenance shaft only. He didn't even hesitate to carry on over and led them deeper on into the ship.

"Know where you're going?" whispered Rains.

"No better than you do."

"Great," he mumbled.

"You just remember when we get out there that I am Colonel Taylor, and you make it loud and clear for all to hear. Pass it on," replied Jones.

The whisper carried back down the corridor as Jones reached a doorway. He looked back and signalled for Rains to come forward. The Lieutenant pulled a control box from the wall, and after fiddling for thirty seconds, the door finally slid open. They all raised their rifles as they realised they were entering one of the main decks of the ship. It was still on emergency lighting, but as Jones took the first step out, the main lights fired up. He jumped to the opposing wall for cover.

He'd half expected an ambush, but as the lights settled, he could see three German marines at one side, looking confused and staring at them.

"Taylor, get down!" Rains shouted, just as he had been told to.

As the name rang out, the enemy marines began to raise their rifles, but Jones was already firing. The first one was struck down, and the other two jumped for cover.

"Forward!"

Jones pushed his shield out before him and advanced as a gun line, with the others laying down fire. The injured marine was clipped again in the same arm, and his comrade dragged him back.

"Colonel Taylor!" Parker called out.

Jones looked around to see Eli was doing everything she could to make his name travel the length of the corridor. He looked up and saw a domed camera module in one corner of the corridor. He strode up to it and stood square on in plain view for whoever was watching to see his rank and name tag before raising his rifle and blowing it to bits.

"Think that worked?"

"We can hope, Parker," he replied, looking at his Mappad. Then he noticed a sign on the wall. They were on deck 1H7.

"What the hell does that mean?"

He had the blueprint, but without any indicator as to how the actual floor names related to anything they were looking at.

"Silva, come in," he said through his communicator.

No response came.

"They must be jamming all frequencies. We probably haven't got more than ten metres range on comms."

"Then we're alone," replied Parker.

"Plan stays the same, and we cause as much trouble along the way as we can."

He looked at the Mappad once again, took his best guess at where they might be, and carried on the direction of the marines they had been fighting. They reached the body of the fallen marine, and all Jones could think was why? He looked like them and had probably fought beside them in the last war.

"Why are they fighting us?" he said when he meant to just think it.

Parker grabbed his arm and stopped him for a moment.

"You okay?"

He couldn't see her face through the clouded visor, but he could hear the concern in her voice. It all seemed so senseless to him, more so than the wars they had fought through previously, but he knew he had to keep it together.

"Silva will find our target. You can be sure of that," she claimed to reassure him.

It was true. The Sergeant Major wouldn't quit until he was dead. Jones continued on without another word as they made their way deeper into the ship. Barely a minute later, they reached a crew quarters that had just two occupants, desperately trying to pull on their armour. Parker leaned in and shot both of them through the legs.

Jafar passed by and stopped for a moment. He seemed surprised at the sight. For a moment, Jones thought from his body language that he was shocked at the brutality against their own race, but instead he raised his rifle to finish the job.

"No!" screamed Jones.

It was too late. Gunfire tore through the two injured crewmembers. Jafar turned to him and raised the visor off his helmet with a puzzled expression on his face.

"Never leave an enemy combatant still combat effective to any degree," he stated.

Jones knew he was right, but it still didn't feel right. He turned and carried on at the head of the column. They took a bend, and Jones was met with a burst of gunfire ricocheting off his shield. Parker yanked him back into cover.

"Lay down your weapons!" a voice cried.

Jones looked back at Parker.

"Reason with them. Tell them who you are."

Jones had no idea if it would work or for which reason she was suggesting it, but it was worth a shot.

"This is Colonel Taylor of the Inter-Allied Regiment, European Alliance! Right now, the UEN is preparing to fire the Earth defence grid against targets on the ground, military and civilian, that will change the face of this world forever! You must know that is wrong. Join us, or lay down your weapons, and let us pass!"

Silence ensued, and he looked back at Parker for an opinion. "How was that?" Jones was no negotiator, and he felt more than a little uneasy trying to be one while simultaneously acting as Taylor.

"Little straight, but yes, I think it did the job."

He looked to Jafar who only shook his head.

"Folly," the alien simply replied.

They could both see Jafar didn't comprehend what they were trying to accomplish. They could hear a few mumblings from down the corridor, and Taylor's name being bandied around. Jones was hopeful until a voice shouted back, "Colonel Taylor, you are ordered to lay down your weapons and come out with your hands up!"

Jones shook his head. He knew it was too much to ask for. Without another word, he drew a flashbang from his armour, primed it, and launched it down the corridor. Before it had even ignited, he leapt out into the corridor, using his shield to protect him from both the grenade and any gunfire. He sprinted down the corridor at them with Jafar close behind.

As the grenade ignited, he could see the marines were Reitech equipped, with near enough everything he currently carried except for the shield, and it made all the difference. He held it before him, using the helmet targeter to kill one after the other as they scrambled for cover. Shots rushed past him from either side, as others of the platoon flanked the two of them and kept up the pace.

They had covered half the distance when they saw the last three marines throw down their weapons.

"Cease fire!" Jones screamed.

Even Jafar did exactly as ordered. Jones realised that he was utterly loyal. He just didn't understand the concept of letting enemies live.

“What do we do with them?” Parker asked.

“They’ll only come back to bite us in the ass,” replied Herrera.

Jones paced up to the three marines. They looked terrified, as if they’d never fought a real battle in their lives. He couldn’t bring himself to kill them but knew restraining them could lead to them quickly being freed. Imprisonment made him feel sick to the stomach, and he had no idea where they could do it anyway. He pulled off the helmet of the nearest one and then drew out his pistol, reversing it so the grip was forward.

“Either you take the pain, or you let him end you now,” he said and pointed to Jafar. The marine looked at the towering alien and then turned back to Jones and nodded in agreement. Jones smacked him across the head with his pistol, knocking him unconscious immediately. Parker and Herrera did the same for the other two. They knew it risked serious injury, but it was better than execution.

Jones carried on until he suddenly stopped at a radiation warning sign. He looked down at his Mappad and smiled when he could see where they were.

"We're not far now."

As he said it, they heard all the systems in the ship power up.

Shit, thought Jones.

"Let's move!"

He rushed onwards, knowing their presence and location would be common knowledge, and the camera recordings from when they first boarded would soon be relayed to the bridge.

Once they think Taylor is aboard, all hell is going to break loose.

As they took a bend up ahead, they were met with gunfire from half a dozen marines dug in where they were heading. Jones didn't even flinch when the first shots hit his shield, and he kept up the pace towards them.

Thank God they haven't got shields.

The weight of gunfire was too much for his, and it buckled over his arm. He knew it could only take another shot or two and it was done for. He increased to a sprinting pace and rushed at the defenders. They looked terrified by their unflinching aggression.

With one swing, Jones' shield passed over a support joist a marine was using for cover. He smashed the edge of his shield into the man's head, snapping his neck with the impact. It sent Jones into a spin. As he recovered, he fired a burst into one of the other's faces, just as Jafar and Parker reached his position still firing. Jones drew out his Assegai and turned to face another, but was too late. An Assegai of one of the enemy marines drove through the breastplate of his armour and into his flank. The pain forced him to release the grip of his weapon, but he soon recovered. He grabbed the marine's helmet and quickly snapped his neck.

Jones reached down to the Assegai and pulled it out while facing away from the others. The helmet at least hid his gritted teeth and pain from them. The Assegai had his blood on it, but he holstered it as his before turning to the others. Parker immediately noticed the hole in his armour.

"How bad is it?" she asked.

"I'm fine. Come on, we're running out of time!"

He didn't feel fine at all. Even the burning hot Assegai had not completely sealed the wound, and he could feel the clamminess of his own blood expanding within his uniform. He knew he couldn't hide the wound from the others for long, but it didn't matter to him in that moment. He looked back at his Mappad; they were just a short distance away.

A broad corridor-width blast door lay ahead of them. As they approached, it opened to bring a shocking sight that brought them to an instant halt. More than twenty enemy marines had deployed hard defences across the corridor width and were set up with heavy weapons. Jones no longer had his shield, like many others in his unit. Their hasty rush for the target had cost them assets, which now they regretted. They might as well have been standing in front of a firing squad.

"Lay down your weapons!" one of the enemy officers cried.

It was a line Jones was getting all too bored of hearing. Everyone wanted Taylor alive. You would have thought they would have learned by now?

"What do you want to do?" Parker asked quietly.

Jones looked back and could see there was no cover at all.

"We can't give up, or it was all for nothing," said Herrera.

"And if we die here and now, is it any better?" asked Parker.

"Put your fucking weapons down!"

"We surrender we are dead anyway. We rush them, and some of us might live. You know what to do," said Jones.

They knew he'd say that, but none wanted to hear it.

"Ready on my go."

He looked back to the gun line and knew it would probably be the last thing he ever saw. "Why on earth do I volunteer for this shit?" he grumbled, which brought a few smiles from the others.

"Now!"

Jones leapt forward, but as he readied his rifle to fire, the line up ahead lit up with gun flashes. Jones expected to die any second as he rushed forward, but then through the muzzle flashes he could see it was not them firing, but their position being hit by a volley of fire from behind. A few of the marines tried to turn back but were cut down with no protection at all from their defences.

The platoon reached the line to find it was utterly devastated, and there stood Silva and his platoon. Silva's faceplate was up, and he looked more than a little pleased with himself.

"Damn that's some fine timing, Sergeant Major," said Jones sternly.

"Always."