pay a dear price.”
She looked out to the carnage. There had been no attempt to clear the enemy dead. They provided obstacles to the next assault, if nothing else. Despite wearing a fully enclosed suit with her own oxygen supply, she could smell the burning bodies and armour. The taste and putrid smell was something she could never forget, and despite her suit protecting her from it, her mind projected it for her.
“They’ll come in much greater number next time. Make sure you keep plenty of ammunition handy. If we can keep them bottlenecked in these hallways, we have a chance.”
“A chance for what?” asked Warren.
“For victory.”
He appeared surprised and looked into eyes to see if she truly meant it. He could tell she believed her own words. He just wasn’t sure what she defined as victory.
“We’ll nail those bastards. This planet will run in blue rivers of blood.”
Chapter 9
Looking out to space, Taylor could see nothing but their own fleet and the deep abyss beyond. He waited to see an enemy ship every moment and fully expected it, but nothing came. He sat on a viewing deck close to the outer skin of the Washington’s hull with a real view out to space. It always felt different seeing it with one’s own eyes than on a projected display. The window was just a metre wide and had a large blast door slung over it, ready to shut at a moment’s notice.
Where Mitch stood was one of the few luxuries of the ship. It was quiet and relaxing, and the view out to space made it feel so much less claustrophobic than the rest of the vessel. He imagined the feeling was much like that of working aboard a submarine in their oceans; a job he never envied. Living at sea was something he always enjoyed, but the notion of the environment outside being fatal made Taylor feel sick at times.
A hand reached onto his shoulder and even though he wore his armour, he could feel it was a light touch. It could only be one person in the world. He felt his shoulders relax from the highly-strung state he had been in and turned with a smile to see Eli.
“You need some rest,” she whispered.
“Don’t we all?”
Her weary face tightened into an even broader smile.
How can she remain so positive? He wondered.
“I’ll sleep when I’m in the grave,” Taylor added.
Her smile quickly vanished, and she responded quickly.
“Many men have said the same, and it has come sooner than they would have liked. Don’t think just because you have made it this far, you are invincible. You can be killed just the same as us all.”
“No, not me.”
She shook her head, but she could not quite tell if he was joking or not.
“Please get some sleep,” she pleaded.
“Will you join me?” he asked with a smirk.
“No chance, rest is the only thing you’re good for.”
He knew she was right, and there was nothing more to be said about it. He slipped away from her hand and carried on to his quarters without another word. By the time he had reached his door, he knew just how exhausted he was, and it was a wonder he was still on his feet.
Seconds after stripping his exo suit off, Mitch had collapsed onto his bed with his boots still on. He fell into a deep sleep that was void of all the horrors he had fretted over the past days. Before he knew it, a buzzer was ringing beside him with a call coming through. He looked to his watch, and it showed three hours had passed. The last thing he remembered was propping his rifle in the corner of his quarters. He coughed to clear his throat and sat up in a daze. Despite that, he already felt ten times better than before his rest. He smashed his hand down on the comms channel.
“Taylor,” he said in a croaky voice.
“Sir, your presence is requested on the bridge, immediately.”
“Roger that.”
He stood up and quickly stretched out to feel his body was remarkably rested after the few short but good hours of sleep he had gotten. He’d have killed for a shower, but more urgent matters were at hand. Within a few minutes, he was out the door and making a quick dash to the bridge. The doors opened, and it was clear Huber had been waiting for him.
“News from Red 1, Major.”
He rushed to the side of the table in hope of some good word of Chandra’s progress.
“The Colonel continued to transmit data until their signal was jammed.”
“Are they holding out?” he asked briskly.
“Certainly up till that point, yes. It seems much of the enemy fleet passed them by and are heading for us. This means we cannot risk sending any support to the planet.”
“Nothing? We’re just going to leave them there?”
“They’re going to have to slug it out, as are we. Now, I suggest you look to our own situation.”
Taylor quickly understood there was much more to the story than Huber had passed on.
“You have received confirmed reports they are heading this way?”
The Admiral nodded and sighed deeply.
“They’re coming for us with, well, maybe not everything they have, but a lot. We have gotten this far by taking the enemy by surprise, but now we will see what it is truly like to face an organised enemy.”
“Sorry, Sir, but I have already seen it enough times, and it ain’t pretty.”
“Mmm,” mumbled the Admiral.
“How long do we have?”
“Hard to say exactly, but best estimate is about five hours.”
“What are your intentions?”
“We will hold this position while it is still possible.”
“And if it becomes impossible?”
The Admiral looked up into Taylor’s eyes and could see he had already accepted they might have to leave people behind. Taylor shook his head in disgust. He knew they should have sent support to Chandra, and he knew they could have done so when he asked for it, but it was all too late now.
“It will be a bloody day.”
“That much is certain. Have your marines ready to defend this ship. I do not want a repeat of our last action. We came very nearly close to losing the Washington, and that is not acceptable.”
“Several thousand tonnes of metal lost is not, but several thousand lives are.”
Taylor did not ask it as a question and did not expect any kind of response. Huber hated the situation as much as he did, but neither blamed each other for either turn of events. Mitch turned and left the bridge. He knew there was nothing more to discuss. There was no more news to come, only the swarm of the enemy. He lifted up his communicator.
“Inter-Allied, those not on watch have one hour of rest, after which everyone is on active duty until ordered otherwise. All officers to assemble in thirty minutes at briefing room B.”
On open channels, he knew all would know the enemy were close and bearing down on them, but he couldn’t hide it from them any longer. He swung by the canteen on the way to the meet in the hope of filling his hunger. All he got was some artificial piece of junk that supposedly contained real meat, but you wouldn’t know it.
Fifteen minutes after he put out the call, he sat in the room awaiting the others and finished the God-awful food he’d been given. Despite its dire taste and texture, he felt remarkably better after finishing it. Jones was the first to join him, early as usual.
“I assume by your lack of urgency that we are not flying out in support of the Colonel?” he asked.
The words had left his mouth before he’d even taken a seat. It rubbed salt into the wound that one of his
