The Last Hero (14 page)

“Get a medic to the bridge! Commander, report!”

In a frantic but controlled British accent, she answered, “Direct hit, sir, on the forward port power coupling. The laser is down. I have dispatched repair teams.”

“The rest of the fleet?”

Hamilton’s eyes zipped from screen to screen. She took in a massive amount of data at an inhuman rate.

“The
Lepanto, Waterloo,
and
Normandy
have suffered significant damage but are keeping up their rate of fire.”

“Those are the closest ships to us.” Holloway briefly retreated into thought. “The flanks? Are they hitting the flanks hard?”

Pause.

“No, it appears they are firing just enough to keep the battleships occupied.”

“Yeah, they want to smash the center...and we’re the center. Where’s the swarm?”

The sensor officer shouted, “Still holding in the rear!”

“Good,” he said with a slight grin. “Let’s give them a reason to use them. Commander, order the
Lepanto, Waterloo
, and
Normandy
to pull back slowly. Helm, do the same. All others hold their position.”

“Sir?” Hamilton remarked.

He ignored her doubt in his plan.

“Contact the fighters and reserve force...tell them to prepare to attack.”

“Aye, aye, sir!” she answered.

The wounded core of the Fleet line gave ground. Smelling blood in the water, the Bearcat commander’s natural predatory instincts took over. The swarm of sixty dart fighters and a reserve force of one cruiser and two destroyer class ships charged for the apparent weak spot. As the strike force neared weapons range, the admiral acted.

“
All ships full reverse!
Draw the fuckers deep into our lines.”

The aggressive tendencies of their race blinded the Bearcats. Once an attack launched, their blood wouldn’t allow them to pull back.

Soon the Fleet’s line resembled a bent steel pipe as the Bearcat strike force found their flanks endangered by the sheer audacity of their thrust.

Red dots signifying hits on the
Canada’s
hull pinged frantically on the holo display, but Holloway refused to rush the trap. When the time arrived, he gave the order.

“All stop! Send the fighters in and tell the
Thermopylae, Yorktown,
and
Hastings
to
attack
! And Commander...release the drones.”

When
Earth’s
Fist
deployed the drones, they didn’t take the traditional holding pattern around their mother ship. The forty mindless warriors attached themselves to the sterns of the ships on the line, blending in with the larger hulls. The Bearcat strike force didn’t notice the odd spheres until it was too late.

Before the fighters or reserve cruiser came into range, the swarm was taken by complete surprise.

Fleet’s fighters and cruisers slammed into the swarm’s disintegrating formation, overwhelming the sixty brave pilots with wave after wave of missile fire and laser strafing runs. 

The pleasure derived from springing a successful trap vanished along with two of the ships on the holo display.

“Report!” he ordered.

“It’s the
Waterloo
and
Normandy
...they’re gone,” Hamilton said. “The attacking cruiser is coordinating a strong field of fire with the destroyers.”

“To hell with them.” He hammered a fist onto the holo table. “Can we fire the main laser?”

“Ship’s bridge reports that the repairs are finished. It’s powering up now.”

“Tell the
United States
to make for the center and get on the horn to the
Gettysburg
and
Midway
. I want coordinated fire on that damned cruiser.”

A replacement comm officer replied, “Sir,
Midway
and
Gettysburg
have confirmed the order.”

“Commander?”

“Forward laser at full power.”

“
Fire
!”

Three beams struck the discus shaped cruiser. The
Canada
hit her head-on while fire from the
Gettysburg
buried into its starboard, side and the
Midway
burned a hole in the port hull.

The sensor officer announced, “She’s dead in the water.”

A cheer rang through the flag bridge.

Holloway’s stern face didn’t move.

“Fire missile batteries now.”

Moments later, six missiles landed on the cruiser in a cascading nuclear wave that culminated in the ship’s explosion.

The bridge crew erupted into cheers again. Holloway remained still as a stone statue.

“Sensors, status of the enemy swarm?”

“What’s left of them are in full retreat. The drones and fighters are picking them off in pursuit.”

“Comm, order a squadron of drones to execute the pursuit. I want all other drones and fighters to engage the enemy destroyers. Tell the reserve cruisers to come alongside.”

“Aye, sir.”

Holloway returned his full attention to the holo display. The loss of the
Waterloo
and
Normandy
stretched the left flank thin when the
United
States
redeployed to the center. But it held as the destruction of the Bearcat attack force caused them to rethink their situation. Holloway knew in battle that advantages could quickly disappear if opportunities weren’t properly seized. He needed to act soon.

The remaining enemy ships, minus the dying destroyers, consolidated in the hopes of filling the void left by the defeated attack. The four battleships and five cruisers shortened their line. Holloway knew he couldn’t allow that to happen uncontested.

“Where’s the
United States
and the reserve cruisers?”

Hamilton said, “
The
States
is in position and engaging the enemy. The
Hastings
and
Yorktown
have finished moving up.”

“The
Thermopylae
?”

“She diverted slightly to help the fighters take out the destroyers. They’re finished now.”

Returning to the holo table, he leaned forward, placing both hands on the edge.

“We are going to cut these bastards in half. Order the fighters and drones to break into two and attack the cruisers in the middle. I want all fire from us, the
United States
,
Yorktown
, and
Hastings
on that battleship.” He pointed at the intended target. “Tell
Thermopylae
to engage this ship.” He indicated the cruiser on the left flank.

“Orders away and confirmed, sir.”

“Umm...sir,” the sensor officer said, “the
Stalingrad
is on evac.”

“Deploy rescue teams!” Hamilton shouted.

“Belay that order!”

All eyes turned to Holloway.

“We don’t have time for that now. They’re going to have to hold on until we win.”

Silence greeted his order.

“Get this attack underway...
fire
every damn thing we have.”

The
Hastings
fired her main laser and emptied her missile tubes but withered under the pressure of two battleships. The sacrifice wasn’t for naught. The concentrated laser and missile volleys from the
Canada
,
United
States,
and
Yorktown
melted the central battleship soon after her fall.

“Redirect fire to the last battleship in the center!” Holloway screamed over the victorious roar of
Canada’s
crew. He could taste the sweet delight of victory on his tongue and wasn’t about to spoil the treat by savoring it too soon.

“
Sir
,” the sensor officer cried, “the
Germany
is lost.”

Undeterred, the admiral refused to back down.

“Goddamn it! Tell the
Russia
and
Great Britain
to hold their ground. Their center is crumbling. All they have to do is
hold
!”

“What’s the status of the fighters and drones?”

Hamilton said, “Drones down to quarter strength, and the fighters are at fifty percent. They’re having a hard time punching through their defenses.”

A massive booming sound shook the ship. Officers and enlisted grabbed onto what they could, to remain at their stations. Holloway planted his feet apart on the deck, remembering days at sea, and rode out the wave like motion of his spacecraft.

A red warning flashed on the hologram of the
Canada
.

“Report!”

“Decks two through four ruptured. Blast doors are down. Decompression is contained for now. We can’t take another hit there.”

“Make sure the helm keeps our starboard side facing away from the main action.”

“
Woo Hoo
!” the sensor officer shouted as the last battleship in the center split in two from a direct hit by the
United States
.

“Comm, order the fighters and drones to break off. I want the
United States
to hit this cruiser and the
Yorktown
to join us on the other one,” the admiral ordered from the holo table.

The drones and fighters failed to destroy the cruisers, but their efforts weakened them. A few volleys front the capital ships made quick work of the last of the enemy center.

Just as the center collapsed, an enemy missile penetrated
Midway’s
defenses. A brilliant explosion marked her destruction.

“Send the
United States
and the
Yorktow
n to help the
Great Britain
. Notify the helm to take us to the
Russia
. Let’s finish this.”

What remained of the Bearcat fleet, two battleships and three cruisers, soon found themselves surrounded and outgunned. Despite their doomed situation, the enemy fought on with great tenacity. In their death throes, they managed to destroy the
Russia
and
Thermopylae
.

With the last of the enemy ships blasted into the void of space, rescue teams launched from the
Canada
,
United
States
,
Great
Britain
,
Yorktown
,
Lepanto
,
Gettysburg,
and
Earth’s
Fist
.

Holloway sat down for the first time since before they jumped. Tipping his head back, he took in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

Hamilton said, “Splendid victory, Admiral. They’ll be talking about that one for a while.”

Hell of a costly victory. But I’ll take it.

***

“At-a-boy Fleet,” Trent said to the
Earth’s Fist
bridge crew. He had watched the battle quietly from a distance on the ship’s holo display.

The captain paused briefly from helping coordinate the recovery of the remaining fighters and drones to face Trent.

“Yes indeed, now it’s up to you Legion ground pounders to get the job done.”

Chapter 19: Invasion

D
ressed for battle, with his helmet at his side, Trent walked along the platform separating two rows of shuttles. He surveyed the soldiers in the first wave he was to lead in the coming minutes.

Twenty-five hundred in all would soon board these landing craft bound for Black Marble’s demonic surface. Once they secured the landing zone, General Banks would drop with the remaining twenty-five hundred soldiers of the 1st Legion.

The battle dress uniform and gear hanging on Trent were almost exactly the same as what he wore on Big Red. The only differences being an upgraded CAL to match the improved nanos, and a sidearm rail gun. Something he would have appreciated when his MRG broke the last time. The long barreled pistol was strapped to a hip. It fired a slower projectile than the MRG, but the weapon would be more effective than the Bowie knife in his boot.

He walked the platform, standing as straight as possible, trying to project confidence and a command presence. Soldiers mingled about killing time, waiting for the order to board. Once given, the loading would be completed in less than two minutes, a feat achievable only after numerous practices during their journey.

Approaching the rear end of the walkway, he spied three officers with whom he shared a great familiarity. They now served under him in the 1st Cohort. Trent stepped around a group of chatting enlisted men, who jumped to their feet upon seeing their XO.

“Major Jones, Captains Simms and Thomas, I trust all is well?”

Jones stiffened into perfect attention and saluted.

“The 1st of the 1st is equipped and ready for deployment, sir,” she announced in a serious military tone. In her BDUs, she could be mistaken for a man given her size and short haircut.

“At ease, Major. I’d never think otherwise.”

Simms said, “I take it the missile strike failed?”

“Yeah, total waste of ordinance. They didn’t even get close. That base’s missile shield extends out a hundred kilometers. We’re going to have to do this the hard way.”

“Good.” Thomas placed a hand on her sidearm. “Nukes are for pussies. They take all of the fun out of it.”

“I like the spirit, Captain. Just don’t go and get yourself killed, I’m not sure Simms here could take not having you around.”

Jones laughed as she and the colonel knew the two officers once tensely confrontational relationship had blossomed into something more Earth side. Those personal files commanders had access to contained amazing information sometimes, though their body language around each other gave it away. Trent imaged his file read like a Greek tragedy.

Thomas blushed, and Simms smiled proudly.

“
All hands prepare for shuttle and fighter launch!”
the ship’s comm speakers boomed, sending twenty-five hundred troops into an organized frenzy.

The four stood silent to take in the gravity of the situation. Again, they would lead soldiers into battle, and many to their deaths, against a terrifying foe.

“See you downside.” Trent snapped a salute that the others quickly returned.

The metal grate beneath his feet rattled as he jogged down the walkway, passing columns of geared up soldiers filing into their chariots. By the time he reached his shuttle, he found it completely boarded. Placing the helmet on, he ascended the lowered shuttle door as the green nano fibers sealed around the neck.

Setting his MRG next to him, he asked CAL, “Sweetie, readiness status report.”

One of the upgrade features of the new CAL’s allowed users to give them a simulated personality and equipped them for voice replies. While a basic function, the hurried pace of development and manufacture in those early days of the war didn’t allow for such extras.

Trent named his CAL Sweetie and gave her a pleasant female voice.

“All cohorts reporting boarded and ready for launch, Colonel.
Earth’s Fist
is conducting final checklist procedures. Estimated time till launch is one minute.”

Hey, a new record. Knew those drills were worth the effort.

The ship’s mechanical voice announced the opening of the bay doors below the shuttle. The overhead clamps holding it in place released. Five cohorts of the 1st Legion dropped into space.

The fifty shuttles assembled into formation, creating a highly defensible block with circling fighters patrolling around it. The fighters would protect the invasion force all the way to the drop zone.

The fighters suffered terrible causalities during the battle to control space. Of the original thirty that took to the fight, only ten remained. The drones fared even worse, losing thirty-four of forty.

From his seat, Trent looked out the pilot’s window, catching a brief glimpse of the fleet in orbit. The
Canada, United States, Great Britain, Yorktown, Lepanto,
and
Gettysburg
survived the battle. Only the
United States
and
Lepanto
guarded
Earth’s Fist
. The others limped home with severe damage. Admiral Holloway had transferred his flag to the
United States
.

The shuttle shook violently as it entered Black Marble’s atmosphere at the steepest angle allowed. Comfort became a casualty, getting down and off loaded quickly was the only consideration.

To minimize the threat of attack, the shuttles entered the planet at the side opposite of the Bearcat base. They flew to the landing zone at an altitude just forty meters off the black rocky surface.

A hill one hundred and fifty kilometers west of the base served as the initial target. The location offered a natural defensive position, which combined with the fact that it sat well outside the Bearcat missile defenses made it almost invulnerable to attack. Trent didn’t expect the enemy to attempt any action outside the protection of their missile shield.

“Thirty seconds to drop!” the pilot shouted.

Here we go.

The shuttle hovered a meter off the ground and the door dropped down. Soldiers jumped out of their seats so fast that a line to exit formed before the door finished opening. Trent was near the pilots and was therefore the last in line. He watched as each soldier’s green suit turned black, blending them into the planet’s barren landscape, making them nearly invisible.

He hit the ground and immediately took control of the operation.

“All century commanders, I want the mobile air defenses up ASAP. That’s your top priority. Major Jones.” He pointed at his XO, whom he could see thanks to Sweetie. “Get the 1st Cohort formed. I want you to organize scouting parities all around this area. Second Cohort take a defensive position halfway down the northeast slope of the hill. Third, do the same on the southeast. Fourth, take the west side just in case. Fifth stays on top as a reserve.”

Black blurs swirled all around Trent as subordinates rushed to fulfill their assignments. Sweetie highlighted one such dark void walking toward him.

“What do you have for me, Captain Simms?”

“Good news, sir. Trenton tells me we can breathe the atmosphere and secondary analysis confirmed it. We won’t have a problem tolerating the temp either.”

Eager to breathe the first of the alien air, Trent removed his helmet, tipped his head back, and breathed deeply through the nose.

Rotten eggs, guess I’ll still be spending a lot of time in suit.

Exhaling, he stared off into the gray sky of the near lifeless planet. An odd thought popped into his head as he cocked it toward Simms.

“Trenton?”

“Oh...not after you, sir, I named my CAL after my favorite dog. He was my best friend when I was growing up. It seemed fitting.”

***

“Report, Colonel,” General Banks barked the moment he hopped off the shuttle turning him from green to black instantly.

“Sir, we have established a perimeter around the hill with dug in positions to the east and west.” Trent answered with hand motions as much as with words. “Major Jones is out with the 1st scouting the area. I’ll deploy the new cohorts to the east to prepare for our march.”

The general turned his head to the left then right. He took in the scene while soldiers continued to pour out shuttles still landing on top of the hill.

“Very well, Colonel. Why have you deployed the air defenses without their tracks...or had any units dig in? You’ve delayed our march east to meet the enemy.”

“I wanted the air defenses established as quickly as possible. That was faster without attaching the tracks right away. As for digging in, I thought it best to establish some form of defense while we orga—”

Banks cut in, “Speed is the most important aspect in warfare. You’ve cost us that speed, Colonel.”

“With all due respect, the delay is minimal. There’s a lot we don’t know about the enemy’s capabilities. A measure of caution is warranted.”

Banks shook his head. “Colonel, as Patton said ‘audacity, audacity, audacity are the three most important traits in a great commander—”

I know every fucking word Patton said. He would have known when to practice caution. 

“—So, Colonel, refit the batteries for march. Let’s move east with all speed.”

“Yes, sir, General,” Trent remarked.

***

The glossy black volcanic rock seemed to go on forever. Trent didn’t understand how a planet could be so colorless, as if God waited till last to work on Black Marble and by then his box of crayons had one color left.

While the barren landscape didn’t appear to support life, the planet’s one ocean, which covered roughly half the surface, teamed with an oxygen producing bacteria. Though between the rotten egg smell from the atmosphere’s high sulfur content, and the desire not to become an easy target, everyone spent only a few seconds outside the suits on the fifty kilometer march to the Bearcat air defensive perimeter.

Major Jones stood on top a smooth slab of rock sloping approximately thirty degrees downward. If not for the nano-soled boots gripping the slick surface, she would have fallen into the valley of jagged rocks below. Gazing with the visor on max zoom down into enemy territory, she scouted ahead for trouble as the 1st Cohort continued to lead the rest of the Legion.

“See anything interesting, Major?” Trent walked to her side about a meter below the slab.

“Not a damn thing. That’s what bothers me, Colonel,” she said. “I figured they would be planning a reception the moment we stepped under their cover. But none of my advanced scout teams have found any sign of them. I guess they could have decided to stay holed up in their base.”

Jones hopped onto the ground. They walked by the column marching along a pass down the final mountain before reaching the missile shield. So many camouflaged suits packaged together moving in the same direction caused the mountain wall to appear as if it flowed downhill.

Trent swung his MRG onto a shoulder.

“Something tells me the Bearcats aren’t the types to be content with letting the battle come to them. I want to double the advance patrols when we get to the bottom of this thing.” He pointed off into the east. “They’re planning something. I don’t intend to get caught with our pants down.”

“What’s the general have to say?”

Pulling Jones further away from the column, Trent looked around and lowered his voice. Both methods of secrecy weren’t necessary with their helmets on private chat, but he wasn’t taking any chances. 

“He’s a paper pusher with bad instincts. He thinks if we move fast enough, they won’t be able to hit us before we get to the base.”

“He’s buggers, sir. They know we’re here and have a pretty good idea of where here is. This area has a million natural ambush points. We’ll get our asses shot to hell if we try to sprint through this maze.”

“That’s why I want to double the forward patrols. Maybe if we have enough of a screening force, we can see what’s coming.”

Sweetie cut in, “General Banks would like to speak with you, sir.”

“Speak of the devil. Gotta go, Major, get those patrols ready.”

She nodded before speeding up to a jog down the mountain.

***

“Yes, General?”

“Colonel, prepare the Legion for a rapid march through enemy territory. None of the scouts have come across the enemy. I want to bring them in. That way we can cut through these next seventy-five kilometers like a knife. When we get closer, we’ll deploy the scouts again.”

Trent lowered his head, placing a hand on his helmet to sooth a sudden headache.

He is going to get us all killed!

“Sir, I insist we at least have some form of screen scouting ahead of the column. I don’t want us running into a trap.”

“Colonel, if we move fast enough, they won’t have time to plan a trap.”

“General, they know we’re here, and that we’re coming. These rocks make the entire area perfect for setting a trap. Let me send two squads ahead. Such a small force won’t cause us much of a delay, if any at all.”

The pause seemed to stretch on forever.

“Fine,” the general shot out, “send out your squads. They better not slow me down, or it’s your ass, Colonel.”