The ship rocked as the first enemy weapon systems began firing on them. A second shot struck a few seconds later, and then a third. They waited and counted the seconds until the next impacts, but after a full minute they had not come. Taylor looked over to Jafar and Aysen, who stood opposite him in hastily repainted armour and a French flag painted on the side of his chest.
“You really did it?” asked Taylor, “You really sabotaged the enemy weapon systems?”
“Of many of their vessels,” replied Aysen, “but they will soon recover to full operational capacity.”
Maybe we have a chance yet, he thought.
They carried on for almost ten minutes without incident, and he counted every second on the display on his forearm.
“Masks on!” Taylor yelled.
They each hit the controls on their forearms that sealed their suits and lowered the clear screen on their helmets, sealing them against their collars. It was the moment Taylor realised they had been breathing from an air-conditioned artificial source since they boarded.
Have I breathed my last breath of air on Earth?
Taylor was truly fearful that they had reached the end of an era, the end of humanity, as they knew it. The threat of death to himself and those he loved he had grown used to and was all too familiar with. But their hold on Earth was something he had always held on to. It was the reason they fought. It was the only thing he would never give up. And yet now he had set off from the planet, knowing he may never return, even if he did survive.
This fact bothered him more than anything else. The thought of never stepping foot on Earth again was more worrying than facing Erdogan. It was in this moment he overcame his fear of the alien leader.
I will return to Earth, and nothing will stop me, he told himself.
The ships soared towards the Fatihi, passing several dozen enemy vessels en route. Many were powerless or intermittently trying to redirect. Half of them were unable to act. Simultaneously, the allied fleet was descending on the enemy craft. Railguns and missiles fired on the disabled vessels, but they were soon preoccupied with those enemy vessels still active. The fire began to target the Mastiff column once again, and they could do nothing but absorb the fire.
The heavily armoured Mastiffs had no weapons at all. They were nothing more than armoured coffins with a ramming prow. The relentless fire of the enemy finally smashed through the first Mastiff as they were on their descent to the Fatihi. As the next came under fire, two of the allied frigates soared into view and crossed into the line of fire and took the worst of it. They were struck one time after another and kept going despite it.
The two ships were ripped apart as the Mastiffs made the last few hundred metres and themselves plunged through the wrecks of the allied frigates. Mitch knew their own forces would be taking a beating outside, and he was glad his people weren’t able to see it. He could see their destruction in his head, and it made him feel sick.
They were just moments from contact with the Fatihi when Taylor locked eye contact with Parker. He didn’t say a word, but his expression spoke a thousand words. A tear came to her eye before it dropped down her cheek and onto a smile.
Taylor finally opened his mouth to say something to her but was interrupted by the impact they felt when they burst through the wrecked hulk with little resistance. Another of the Mastiffs blew apart under the weight of dozens of shots from enemy vessels, but it was the last of it. The other eight craft used reverse thrust at the very last moment before plunging into the hull of the Fatihi.
Taylor and his people were rocked by the impact, but the restraining braces they were locked into kept them all in position and without injury. His Mastiff came to an abrupt halt after plunging through three interior walls of the ship. Taylor couldn’t believe the Mastiff has stayed in one piece. He had never believed in the design and opposed using them.
Fucking things worked after all, he thought.
The braces holding them in retracted five seconds after they came to a standstill, and it felt good to be released from their hold. Just seconds later, five ramps on either side of the Mastiff opened and dropped down onto the deck of the Fatihi.
Here we go again.
He lifted his rifle, cocked the firing mechanism, and then looked out to his Company. They had not yet moved and were looking to him to take the first step. He could see the worry in their faces. Every other insertion into enemy territory had been followed by immediate and rapid deployment. He went to move but stopped for just a second, realising the fear that overcame those around him. He knew all he could do was lead by example.
“We’re here. We’re within arm’s reach of the asshole that is trying to destroy our world. Let’s get this done!”
It was all he could think of to say. With that, he rushed for the nearest ramp and leapt out with fervour.
Chapter 12
Jones looked around for some sense of bearing. He'd seen the blueprints provided by Aysen, but he still didn't recognise anything. He lifted his arm to study the info on his Mappad and try and get a sense of their location. Now they were inside the vessel, they weren't getting any live updates on their location, and he had to rely on traditional map reading skills.
"Where the hell are we, Sir?" asked Robinson.
He studied the map a little further.
"I have absolutely no idea."
He pinpointed their current location so that he could at least retrace the distance and direction, and then looked up to the room before them. His Company had taken up defensive positions. They were in a broad circular corridor system that curved around either way. It looked almost like an outer ring corridor system, but he already knew the ship featured concentric circuits throughout.
Jones' attention was immediately drawn to the ceiling as he noticed some movement above him. The roof looked organic and seemed to pulsate like veins. It was not like anything he had seen on a Krys ship before.
"What the hell is that?" asked Robinson.
"It doesn't matter right now," replied Jones.
He had to decide which way to go, but knew that until he had some point of reference, he had no idea which one. He set the countdown on his datapad; thirty minutes, it was all they could afford.
"That way," he pointed.
He went forward and led the way. They got just twenty metres before Mechs appeared ahead of them. Jones did not even break stride. He lifted up his shield and held out his rifle beside it, firing as he went forward. The others joined him, and they cut down three of the creatures with little effort. As they passed over the bodies, the ceiling expanded upwards to what looked like some kind of organic organ with seven outlet pipes feeding out to two corridors.
Jones looked at his map and immediately recognised where they were. It gave him new hope as he correlated it with information Aysen had given him.
"What are you looking for, Sir?" asked Robinson.
Jones didn't respond as he studied the map intently.
"Sir, I thought we were here to buy time and raise hell."
"And that's precisely what we're going to do, Corporal, and we're going to rescue a prisoner in the process."
"That's crazy," added Wood.
The Corporal looked to him for answers as he could see Wood knew to what Jones was referring.