Battle Beyond Earth: Retaliation Page 6
"That's it, Colonel. Three decks, three blocks wide. You're sealed in. You've got two Marine squads in there with you. One of mine and one of your own."
"Got it. Keep a track of enemy movement while you can."
"You sure you can handle this?"
"Don't worry about us, worry about this station and that enemy ship. Get rid of it, now!"
"Affirmative. I have ordered our escort craft back."
"Don't wait, destroy it now!"
"Our ships are still too close. Wait...we are getting an energy signal from the enemy craft..."
"Hit them, now!"
"Oh, no..."
The lights went down, and they felt the floor beneath them shake as something impacted with the station.
"That's not good," said Alita.
"Wright? Come in, Wright?"
There was no response.
"Fuck’s sake! Why couldn't he just have blown it out of the sky when he had the chance? Come on, we need to reach a hard line."
Taylor strode onwards with a grunt. He was angry, and not just with the enemy. He went forward with such speed that Alita had to run to keep up. She watched him activate his shield and rush towards two of the enemy while firing on full auto. The first was riddled with bullets, but he reached the second under a hail of gunfire and swung his rifle into the creature’s neck, causing it to be smashed into the bulkhead. He fired a burst into its torso and carried on.
He looked over to see Alita looking at the console they had been trying to reach. Smoke was bellowing from it, and it was completely fried.
"Goddamn it, can we not catch just a little luck?"
The corridors were quiet now. They had passed the mostly empty officers’ quarters and could see a medical station ahead. As they approached, the door slid open. They half expected more of the enemy pile out, but in the doorway stood a familiar shape - Babacan. He was bandaged up and had a spinal repair module still strapped to his back, and yet he carried a rifle in each hand as if he was on the prowl.
They eagerly rushed to his side. Five bodies of the enemy were just inside the room where they had tried to get in. The beds had been overturned, and many of the wounded and medical personnel were huddled behind them with small arms. Most were too badly wounded to fight, and the medical staff looked terrified.
"Nice work, hold this position, and take care of these people," ordered Taylor.
It was clear Babacan wanted to weigh in on more of the action, but he did as asked.
"You got a hard line to the bridge here?" Taylor asked the nearest doctor.
He shook his head. "It went down a few moments ago."
"Fuck!"
"Must have knocked out some of the couplings, what the hell did they hit us with?" Alita asked.
"I don't know, but it's done a number on us, hasn't it? What did I say, don't toy with the enemy!" he yelled as if making a point to all those around them, "Right, we need to make contact with the bridge again and workout what the hell our situation is. Just remember, you take no prisoners. You give no mercy. Shoot to kill!"
Alita reached down and picked up a brutish looking enemy blade to use in her offhand as they rushed on.
"If this is what one ship can do to us..."
"No, this isn't one ship. It's one stupid decision. Our people are still underestimating the enemy. You all seem to think they will adhere to some civilised norms that have become accepted through society. This is war, total war. A war where the enemy will do anything to take you down, at any cost."
He could see she agreed and so wasting his words. They soon reached five bodies. Two were enemy, the other crewmembers cut down fighting the foul creatures.
"How many more of them can there be?"
But she knew he had no more of an idea than she did. A door slid open behind them, and there was a whole squad of the enemy, as if waiting in ambush. Taylor shoved Alita. She launched through the air and tumbled to a halt well out of the way. As he lifted his shield and hunkered down, the gunfire erupted. Dozens of shots hit his shield, and many more struck the wall and open doorway behind him where the walls were sprayed with blood.
He could do nothing, not even get the barrel of his rifle around the rim of his shield. The enemy were hitting him with everything they had and shots skimmed by. Alita was back on her feet and holding her ground. She looked fraught as she saw the beating he was taking, but not a single shot penetrated his shield.
The gunfire finally died down. The enemy had either run low on ammunition or realised the folly of continuing. Five rushed at him, the rest not far behind. He quickly thrust out his rifle and gunned down one with a burst and then turned it on another. By the time the second one had fallen, the third was on top of him. He ducked down and thrust up with his shield, driving it up and under the enemy’s weapons. The barrel of his rifle connected with its stomach, and he immediately squeezed the trigger. A burst of shots tore through its body and struck another behind it. He spun around and smashed one with the rim of his shield before firing a burst into another, but as he came around, one of them struck his rifle, and it was torn from his grasp.
Mitch kept moving, knowing he would be a dead man if he stayed put for even a moment. He stamped down on the kneecap of one of them. As it fell, he took its head in his arm and snapped its neck. A blade was coming right for his head as the enemy fell from his grasp. He stepped aside so that the heavy blade clashed with the deck beside him. He punched his attacker square in the face, giving him just enough of an opening to draw out his Assegai.
He thrust it into the creature’s neck before it could recover. But as he did, a blade was coming right for him. Wielded in two hands, and with such a swing, it could crush a man. He lifted his shield just in time for the blade to impact across its surface and save him. But the power of the blow knocked him several feet to the side, and he tumbled into another one. He was face-to-face with the creature, and it was hissing and spitting at him. He quickly head butted the beast so that the rim of his helmet connected with its nose.
As the enemy soldier tumbled backwards, he kicked it so that it was driven back against a bulkhead. Its back almost snapped as it arched over. He leapt forward and thrust the blade into the centre of its chest. He heard a cry that could only have come from Alita. It almost broke his heart. His head snapped around to find the source of the sound. She was down on one knee, and there was a deep laceration her right arm. She had dropped her pistol, but she defiantly took the enemy blade in two hands and rushed forward at her attacker. She cut down against him with all her strength. It parried the first, but she kept wailing down on it until the blade cut into it head, and it was slain.
But it wasn't her only problem. Another two went at her, but there were many more between Taylor and her. He powered down his shield and drew his pistol into his left hand so he could put out as much damage as possible, at the cost of protecting himself. He fired two shots into the nearest one's head, as he heard Alita scream a manic war cry as she weighed in against her attackers. This only attracted their attention, and more turned to face her, like flies to a honey pot.
Taylor drove his Assegai deep into the back of another, giving him line of sight to Alita's attackers. One had a jagged blade lifted high above its head about to smash down on her, a strike she would have no chance of stopping. He fired two shots into its arm. It collapsed down, and he followed with another shot to its head. He took aim at the next but was tackled with such force he was smashed back against the bulkhead, just as he had done to one of the enemy.
He was pinned by his attacker, who was larger in build than any of the others. It held Taylor's Assegai hand firm while smashing its other against a protruding hull support. The third impact was too much, and Taylor felt his grip falter. As his pistol fell from his hands, he watched Alita still flailing around in a wild attempt to hold off the enemy. She was fighting with a determination and fanaticism Taylor had never seen in her before. She had a will to live, and that spurred him on to find more strength
deep down.
He smashed his elbow into the creature’s face three times. As each impact landed, he felt the grip on him weaken. It was just enough to reach the combat blade on his chest. He drew it out and thrust it into the side of the beast's head through its ear. The creature screamed in agony, but Taylor was not done yet. He drew out a grenade and primed it, stuffing it through the collar of its clothing. He spun the beast around and booted it back the way it came.
The huge Amitad warrior landed on two others and flattened them. A second later the charge blew, and the creature was lifted half a metre off the ground by the blast, killing it and both it had fallen on. He turned is attention on Alita's attackers, now with nothing more in his hands but his trusted Assegai. He parried off with one of the enemy’s blade and spun around its back, thrusting down into its collar without breaking stride.
Alita thrust her captured blade deep into one. The blade almost ran up to the hilt and became stuck, just as Taylor stabbed another through the back. Alita's attacker grabbed hold of her with one hand to stop her fleeing and raised its blade high into the air to bring down upon her head. It began to descend, and she closed her eyes, knowing there was nothing left she could do. But at the last moment she heard the clang of steel on steel.
She opened her eyes. Taylor had stopped the blade dead with one he had taken from them. With the blades locked, he thrust his Assegai into the enemy’s chest and let go so that he could take up the captured blade in two hands. He lifted it up and screamed out a deafening battle cry, smashing the blade down with all his strength. The blade cut into the soldier’s collar and drove half a metre down into its body. Its torso split apart. He put his foot on the body and levered the blade out, withdrawing his Assegai at the same time before it collapsed dead.
He felt Alita clinging to his leg and looked down. She was crying. Her arm was bleeding profusely. Another smaller cut had opened up her left cheek and a third on her right shoulder blade. He reached down and helped her up, and noticed a fourth deep cut on her left thigh.
"On your feet, Marine," he said.
She gritted her teeth and took his help. She was hurt and in a bad way, but still very much alive. More than a dozen enemy lay dead. He leaned her up against the sidewall while he collected their weapons. He passed her pistol back to her and picked up his own, reloading it after sheathing his Assegai.
"Is it over?" she asked.
"We can only hope."
He put her arm over his shoulder and supported much of her weight as they went onwards, each with one hand free with a pistol in hand. Taylor still held onto the captured enemy blade, holding it in the hand he was carrying her with. They could only hope they didn't have to face any more. He couldn't easily protect her and fight at the same time, and they both knew it.
Gunfire raged in the distance. Neither wanted to go on, but they knew they must. They took a turn and found a line of bodies, all enemy. At the end of the dead stood a man with rifle and shield in hand. They couldn't believe their luck, and both sighed in relief. It was Jones and four of their people.
"Medic!" Jones yelled.
A team of marines from the starbase’s own crews rushed around the bend with two corpsmen. Jones led the way and helped Alita down to the ground.
"What are you doing out here alone?"
"Wasn't by choice," added Taylor.
"Looks like you have been through hell. How many of these things did you fight?"
"Enough," he replied, turning his attention to Alita.
The medics were already patching up her wounds to stem the flow of blood, but she looked weak, as if the adrenaline had been all that was keeping her up. But knowing she was now in good hands, he turned his attention to the larger matter at hand.
"What is our status?"
Jones shook his head.
"It's bad."
"How bad?"
"That ship was rigged to blow. Hit us pretty hard, and in the chaos we got boarded. This wasn't an accident."
"No shit!"
"We couldn't have known."
Taylor shook his head. "Of course we could have known. Always assume the enemy means you harm. Always assume they can hurt you while they still draw breath. I told that son of a bitch to blow them to hell. If he had just listened, we wouldn't be in this mess. We've lost a lot of good people because of his curiosity."
The Corpsmen couldn't believe what they were hearing and turned to look up at him in disbelief.
"What the fuck are you looking at? Get back to work!"
Jones took his arm and led him a few steps away, leaning in close to whisper in his ear.
"Don't you think Wright has suffered enough here? We all make mistakes, and I am sure he will learn some valuable lessons from this."
"Valuable lessons?"
He was still furious.
"Tell me you haven't ever gotten people killed that you needn’t have?"
"That isn't fair."
"No, it isn't. But you get my drift, don't you?"
Taylor grunted in approval, although he wasn't particularly happy about it.
"We'll finish up here. You go with her."
He wanted to do so, but he knew he couldn't.
"Not until the job is done."
The two corpsmen lifted her on a stretcher. She reached out with one hand to touch him as they went past, and the station’s Marine detachment escorted them.
"You take care of her, you hear?"
He knew he didn't need to say it, but he hated having to leave her. He looked back to Jones and his team.
"These assholes are really starting to piss me off. Let's end this."
He signalled for Jones to lead the way on the sweep they had been carrying out. They soon found two of the enemy and riddled them with holes.
"This is it, just have to circle back around to the blast doors ahead, and we're clear."
Taylor picked up his pace and rushed past Jones. He was eager to finish the enemy, and even more eager to draw more blood before the battle was over. There were three backed up against the blast doors, trapped. Jones opened fire with his pistol and shot the first before they had even noticed their presence. The second turned and was hit by two more shots. The third almost got his weapon around when Taylor had closed the distance and cut down across with a heavy cut that decapitated the creature. The swing was so powerful the blade embedded in the outer wall of the blast doors.
The head dropped and bounced on the deck, landing before Jones. They watched the body drop, and blood spewed out as the body twitched. It was a sickening sight, but Taylor was more interested in the blade. The impact had sent a shudder through his arm and seemed to have cut into steel without taking any damage. He took hold of the grip with both hands and tried to lever it out, but it was stuck firmly in the frame. He put a foot against the door and put all his strength in until finally it broke free, and he was catapulted back a few paces.
He stood admiring the blade. The edge was perfect, as if made of some diamond like material. He had already used it to parry and strike many times, and yet it looked like new. Its design was crude, almost as if made stylistically, for its construction was perfectly made by an artisan.
"I guess they aren't as crude as they look, then?" Jones asked.
The huge blast doors creaked and began to prise apart. Captain Wright stood waiting on the other side with a dozen marines escorting him. Taylor wanted to give him a piece of his mind, but he thought back to Jones' words, and remembered the mistakes he had made. Wright wasn't the first one to get people killed unnecessarily, and he could see the sorrow in his eyes.
He’s punishing himself. There’s no need to pour salt onto the wound.
He looked horrified at the bloody mess Taylor was in.
Mitch hadn't even noticed, but he looked down. He was covered in blood, but none of it was his. It was a mix of the enemy and Alita's, both of which merged into the same colour. Not even he was used to seeing so much red blood. He had become so used to fighting creatures
that were so removed from humanity, he could slay them without a second thought. But now he looked like a butcher with his cleaver still in hand.
"Is it over?"
"Ye...ye...yes, Colonel. All sectors are secure. We're still trying to get in and recover the wounded."
"You won't find many," he replied solemnly.
Wright at first thought he was trying to be an ass, but he could see Taylor's tone was something very different. There was sadness in his voice, and that really scared Wright, for he was starting to imagine how bad things really were.
"Do you know how the enemy got aboard yet?"
Wright shook his head.
"I have teams out there making sure there is no longer any threat to this station. Once I am completely satisfied, only then will we get to the bottom of it."
"Best guess?" Jones asked, striding up beside them.
"The blast took out a lot of our sensors and security cameras. They could have blasted in through air locks or even the hull in that time. It's hard to tell what damage was done by the blast and what they did after it."
They fell silent. Several more marines and medical orderlies rushed past. Wright studied the body of the decapitated enemy at Taylor's feet.
"I don't understand."
"Understand what?" asked Jones.
"Why they even tried. They could never have succeeded in taking or destroying this station. So why? They threw their lives away for no reason."
Jones agreed, but Taylor didn't share their assessment.
"Not without reason," he replied firmly, "They hit us when we least expected it. Showed you that you are not untouchable."
He pointed to the marines with Wright.
"And look at them, scared, and they should be. You think they came here to win, to take or destroy this station. I don't believe they had any such grand ideas. I am not sure they even knew where they would be jumping."
"So they just got thrown in front of our guns?"
Taylor nodded.
"Look at us. It's chaos, exactly what the Morohta need. But the question you have to ask yourself, Captain, is not how hard were we hit, but where else was hit?"