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Kelly was trying to consider all their options and could not find an answer or solution.

"There are millions of people left on Earth. We can fight," Doyle said.

"With what? Our infrastructure is gone. What armies are still fighting have been shattered."

"Then we fight them in a different way," said Lewis.

"Kelly looked up at the comms officer desperately wanting to hear an answer to their problems. He was tired of the responsibility that hung so heavily on his shoulders. He didn't say a word, but waited for Lewis to go on.

"We can't win in a straight up fight. So don't. Those bastards see an army, a city, or a stronghold, and they send everything they have at that target and flatten it. So let’s not give them that luxury. Let's scatter and hit them where they are weak, and at a time and place of our choosing."

"You're talking about a guerrilla war?"

"Yes, why not? It's worked so many times before, why not? It's that or lay down and die."

Kelly thought about it for a moment. He wondered if he even had the energy left in his body. He was still fit and strong, but he was pushing seventy and weary of it all.

"Sir?" Doyle spoke softly.

Kelly turned to him.

"We've fought, and bled, and lost friends. Lost our colony. But we fought on. We earned the right to be here, to live. Was it all for nothing?"

Kelly shook his head.

"Then what are you waiting for, Sir? The fight is here. It is on us, here and now. If you were going to give up, you should have done it years ago. You've dragged us this far, and I won't let you give up now."

Kelly was utterly surprised by Doyle's words that cut so deeply. He looked to Lewis who only nodded in agreement.

"So you want to fight? Fight, knowing we probably can't win. That we will only prolong ours lives by maybe a few days or weeks?"

"I don't think it's about survival anymore. Taylor and everyone who got off this planet are survivors. I want to hurt those alien bastards. I don't care if I live or die anymore, but I want them to suffer."

Kelly could see the burning hatred in his eyes. It wasn't the best place to work from, but it was better than nothing.

"If we do this, it's going to be bad. It will mean leaving people behind, letting people die. We're gonna have to become something none of us ever imagined. We are going to have to live like wild animals and fight like wild animals," said Kelly.

Doyle nodded.

"I don't think you fully appreciate what life will be like when we go down that path," he added.

"It will be life, which is more than we will get if we do nothing."

He looked back to Lewis who again nodded in agreement. Kelly shot up from his chair.

"All right, if this is how it's gonna be, let's do it right. Gather all MDF personnel here. Use no comms or trackable communication at all. Doyle. I want you to take the two guys out front. Get to the weapon stores at the airfield, and load up everything you can onto the cars and trucks there. Bring them along. We're heading for the forests south of here. They are our best chance. I want everything here within an hour. Personnel, supplies, the lot, so get to it."

* * *

Taylor awoke feeling like a new man. He had no idea how long he had been out for, and didn't care to even check on his watch. Parker had gone. It was a sign of how exhausted he must have been. She would have had to climb over him to get out, and it hadn't woken him. A shower was his first port of call, but afterwards, he realised he had but one uniform. The dirty one he had been wearing.

Walking about without the Reitech equipment was a revelation. For all the power and protection it gave, it was a true sense of freedom to be out of it. Taylor put on his pistol belt and carried on to the bridge, safe in the knowledge the ship was now free of enemy combatants.

As he approached the bridge, he heard a heated argument from the far corridor.

Not a good sign, he thought.

When such a discussion was happening in public for all to hear, he knew things were bad. He stepped aboard the bridge and could hear Huber say forcefully over an open comms channel.

"This is not your fleet, and I will not submit to your authority. Its survival is a military decision and, as such, will be made by the military leader of this fleet."

No response came.

"They have cut communications, Sir," one of the crew said.

"Shit!" Huber shouted angrily.

He looked over and saw Taylor at the entrance to the bridge.

"Ah, good. Colonel, you have had more than a few run-ins with civilian authority and made it through. Maybe you can help."

Taylor took in a deep breath and stepped forward wearily. It was the last thing he wanted to deal with.

"Admiral. Given the choice of fighting the enemy with my own hands or dealing with politicians, give me the gunfight any day."

Huber laughed.

"Sadly true. The British Deputy Prime Minister is leading a collective of other civilian high rankers in an attempt to form a government. He's a son of a bitch called Andrew Bletchley."

"What about the President?"

Huber shook his head.

"Vice President? Joint chiefs?"

"The President's ship was destroyed well before it got out of the atmosphere, confirmed by several sources. Chief of the National Guard is with us but wounded. A few Senators made it...but not a lot else. We’ve lost a lot getting this far."

"Well we need a government, don't we? We have a fleet, but the majority are civilians. It's not a military fleet. It is a civilian one under the protection of the Navy."

"Yes, yes, we need a government, but they want to carry on as if nothing has happened at all. We cannot let these people rule when what we need at this time is a war leader, not a peacetime one."

Taylor opened his mouth to speak but stopped himself. He could already see they were facing the kind of infighting he had always strived to avoid, and yet rarely managed.

"Follow me," Huber said.

He led Taylor into his private quarters, took a seat, and welcomed Taylor to do the same.

"What do I do, Colonel?"

"Talk to them."

Huber laughed.

"Didn't you hear me doing that when you arrived?"

"Like it or not, you are a politician now, as well as an Admiral. You are going to have to deal with the civilians, so better to make your peace now and make it work. Ignore them or put up barriers between yourselves, and it'll only get worse."

"I only wish they would have your common sense and vision. All right, I'll meet with them, but you are coming along for the ride. Seems like there is more good you can do than just fight."

Taylor knew he did not have a choice.

* * *

"All present and accounted for, Sir," said Captain Reynolds.

The former MDF soldiers were formed up in the street outside Kelly's home. There wasn't a single uniform among them, just a rag tag mix of civilian clothing and camouflage items taken from the airfield. Half of them had weapons.

"What's the headcount?"

"Two hundred and twelve ready to fight, Sir. Three hundred and twenty eight civilians."

"There are no civilians anymore," Kelly added, "You're either a fighter or you’re dead."

He climbed up onto the roof of his truck parked in front of the house.

"You all know what has happened here. Earth has fallen. Armies have fallen, and governments have fallen."

"They've left us here to die!" one of the soldiers cried out.

A few yelled in support of the man.

"No, they have just done everything in their power to make sure the human race goes on. But us? We might as well be dead already. For those that made it off this world there is hope. For us, there is only war, death, and sacrifice. Do not be under any illusions. They have come here to kill us and will succeed. So the only question remains, how do you want to die? Will you be put up against a wall and shot like cattle? Will you go into one of their death camps, or be subject to their experiments? Will you put a gun in your mouth and pull the trigger?"