The Last Hero (22 page)

Chapter 25: Cupcake Mission

T
he shuttle ride down to the planet was surprisingly enjoyable. Usually such an excursion meant that he and the other passengers were bound for combat on some weird alien world. This time, their chariot casually carried them to the surface for a simple scout mission in advance of an even simpler resupply run.                            

Each seat on the mission represented a hot ticket among the idle 1st Legion. Weeks of inaction aboard a cramped starship caused an epidemic of cabin fever to sweep across the ranks. Boxing matches, sex, drinking, and war games helped to alleviate some of the symptoms, but they were no match for the feel of real ground.

Despite not issuing a request for volunteers, Trent was besieged with such offers. Thousands of bored veterans jockeyed to secure one of the rare places on the first shuttle down. Ignoring such pleas, he selected a team ripe with nepotism. The advance party of fifty included Major Jones, Captain Simms, and Sergeants Gabriel and Roth. Captain Thomas would have joined them as well, but she was still re-growing a leg lost in the final moments of the battle on Black Marble.

With no sign of an advance civilization or an enemy installation, the shuttle treated the passengers to a comfortable ride while penetrating the planet’s atmosphere.
                            Cutting through a collection of fluffy white clouds, they broke through the final layer. The racing ground beneath the shuttle blended together in shades of green, brown, and black on the planet’s surface to create an abstract painting of sorts.

They soon reached their target—a large lake surround by small rolling hills. The shuttle circled the area and upon finding no sign of trouble, touched down in the serene landscape, a few hundred meters from the water’s edge.

The door hummed on its way down, reaching the soft ground. The legionaries exited the craft the only way they knew how, in battle formation.

With MRGs raised, the soldiers swarmed out in numerous directions, creating a perimeter around the shuttle. Ready to confront any challenge to their presence on this planet, the bored adventure hungry warriors soon received the natives surrender in the form of a chirping bird. The winged yellow avian, about the size of a pigeon, had fur instead of feathers. Its shrill song projected out a conical beak.

A soldier took aim at the poor defenseless creature. A burst from the weapon turned the alien opponent into atoms.

“
Hold your fire
!” Trent ran to the offending party and ripped the MRG from his hands. “There is no need for that bullshit. Break out into your squads and search this entire area, from here to the hills. I want the shuttle in the air for eyes in the sky and support just in case. Major, you are in command of the search.”

“Yes, sir.” Jones made assignments.

The camouflaged soldiers darted off. Trent scanned the surroundings. It could have been Earth. Much of what he saw reminded him of home, a spot he and his father would go fishing in Minnesota to be exact.

Green grass, with thicker blades than normally found on Earth, carpeted the ground. Occasional bare spots revealed black soil underneath. The trees, if they could be called such, served as the surest sign he wasn’t home. Standing a meter tall with dark purple, heart shaped leaves on the top half, clusters of the odd foliage were scattered throughout the area.

Satisfied with the initial survey, he turned to Captain Simms, who carried a piece of equipment out of the shuttle.

“Ready to head to the lake?”

“Lead the way, sir.”

***

The foaming water lapped over Trent’s boots. The liquid changed color with each wave, shifting between various tones of blue, green, and purple. Simms knelt next to him to take a sample with a small vial. He screwed the top on it before walking a few paces inland to insert it into the machine.

Looking out across the glistening water, Trent asked, “Anything on the air?”

“It’s fine, more than enough oxygen for our lungs to process, even without the nanos.” Simms fiddled with the machine. “Haven’t detected any pathogens that we can’t handle yet either. Give me a couple more minutes before you go for a swim without your suit, though.”

“Not to worry, Captain. I’m the last one to go skinny dipping.”

Major Jones cut in, “Colonel, we have something you might want to take a look at.”

Trent found the major and a squad of legionnaires lingering around the side of a hill. Jones stared at the ground as he walked up to her. “What do you have?”

Squatting, she reached down to remove some debris, exposing a hole in the hill. The mouth of the tiny cave was a rough circle about a meter and a half in circumference. Upon closer examination, Trent noticed markings on the tunnel walls that looked like the work of some type of claw.

“What do we have here?” He was now squatting to get a better look.

“I am not sure,” Jones said. “Other teams have found the same thing all along these hills.”

Trent stood,

“Must be an animal of decent size. The subterranean animals on Earth don’t have a habit of making their tunnels any bigger than they are. That way, anything scarier than them can’t get in.”

A strong wind blew over the hill, kicking up dirt and swirling purple leafs. Trent looked up, expecting to see approaching storm clouds but only saw clear skies.

“Can the
Fist
run some scans of the area for us?” Jones stood too. “Maybe penetrate the surface here and see how far these things go? Just to be on the safe side.”

“Can’t,” Trent said shaking his head. “Already tried to do a detailed scan. Some kind of interference is messing it up. The best we can do is say that whatever these things are, they don’t have electrical power.”

“That’s bloody reassuring.”

Circling to take in the entire area, he paused to think.

“Hopefully it’s nothing more than a local creature more afraid of us than we are of it. We’re going to be here for a couple days. To be on the safe side, I want continuous patrols on these hills and perimeter.”

“Understood, I’ll coordinate a schedule.”

***

Transferring enough water to supply thousands of crew and soldiers for the final months of the journey via utility shuttles equipped with tanks would take over seventy-two hours.

Simms’ tests found nothing dangerous in the air or lake. Save for the holes the security patrols discovered, no signs of potential hostiles appeared. Given the apparent safety of the pristine lakeside, Trent and Captain DeWalt elected to allow shore leave for the stir-crazy personnel.

Rotating groups of pale vacationers eagerly hopped out of shuttles, thrilled to be standing on grass and dirt.

While the continuing patrols in the hills wore battle suits, those inside the perimeter were free to don whatever they wished. Black physical training shorts and gray shirts dominated the attire for many. Some of the women were delighted at the opportunity to wear a few articles of civilian clothing they brought along.

Some organized into teams to play a variety of sports while others took a keen interest in the alien planet and explored. Others forwent it all and simply relaxed by the water’s edge, soaking up the natural light. The sound of the gentle waves carried away their worries, if only for a fleeting moment.

Excited at the prospect of finding true solitude, Trent made for the far shore of the lake in search of a section void of others. Following the shoreline twenty meters inland, he walked across the virgin landscape with his MRG slung over a shoulder. For the first hour, he encountered others with a similar goal.

To his delight, his exploration happened upon a piece of ground bearing a striking resemblance to the restored prairie lands he knew from his boyhood home in Iowa.

The lanky waist high grasses covered the area with the occasional wildflower adding a touch of vibrant color to the light brown canvass. The grass brushed against Trent’s bare legs, offering a natural forgotten sensation. Closing his eyes and placing both palms down, he slowly stepped forward, allowing his other senses to take in the serenity.

Pointed tips tickled the soft flesh of his hands. His enhanced ears heard birds chirping and any number of unidentified native species scurrying about on the ground. Walking toward the lake, the tall grasses gave way just before he came upon a steep slope. Unslinging his weapon, he laid it on the green grass before sitting down next to it.

There in the clearing, he shut his eyes and drifted off into the first real sleep he’d experienced in a long time.

The sun had begun to set by the time he stirred. A smile of stress free joy dared to appear before he remembered the terrible distance and time separating him from Anna.

Splashing from the lake distracted him from the creeping depression. Wondering what it might be, Trent rolled onto his belly and crawled to the small cliff’s rim. His eyes grew large at what he saw.

As the light of the dying sun reflected off the lake, Amanda emerged from the water. First, her beautiful face with blonde hair slicked back broke the surface. Looking from side to side for any of her comrades and seeing none, she waded toward the shore.

Trent knew he should look away. Not only was it the gentlemanly thing to do, his position as her commanding officer dictated as much. Despite the demands of chivalry, he couldn’t pry his eyes from the tempting sight before him.

***

Amanda, being a clever soldier, would never go swimming along in a strange place without thoroughly searching the area. She discovered Trent in a deep sleep and quickly formulated a plan before removing the first article of clothing.

The splash that awoke him was strategically planned to do just that.

Now she lingered, teasing him, with just her head sticking seductively out. With the coast clear, she charged her target with small strides to expose her naked skin for dramatic effect.

***

Trent’s pulse quickened when her bare shoulders emerged, then the beginnings of her breasts. Again she paused, faking interest in a small fish, to let her cleavage taught him.

He wanted to yell out words of encouragement to hasten her steps but bit hard on his tongue.

***

Struggling not to smile, having had her fun, she took another step forward, popping her perfect breasts right out, revealing the effects of the cool water.

***

Trent made an audible gasp, which Amanda’s enhanced ears must have heard. Given her lack of reaction, he assumed that she hadn’t.

***

She had.

Taking pride in the applause, she pushed through the water, offering ever more of her sun-starved skin for Trent’s enjoyment. The light glistened off her toned and trim belly when she again paused when the water level lowered to the top of her hips.    

Gliding her fingers across the surface, she spun around to display her firm, round rear.

***

Trent’s gaping mouth suddenly went dry.

His heart skipped a beat when she abruptly swirled around again to launch a full-frontal strike.

The sun threatened to dip below the hills, taking with it the precise light illuminating the siren standing before him. The naked goddess strutted toward the pile of clothes and MRG lying on the shore when an odd noise captured his attention.

There was a rustling behind him, followed by a waaa, waaa, waaa.

Amanda glanced up directly at Trent with a concerned look.

This sent his head jerking down for guilty cover. Believing he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he crawled backward with every intention of running away like a thirteen-year-old boy after his mom discovered his hidden porn stash.

Having pulled away from the ledge and forgetting about the nose, he rose into a crouch taking hurried but silent steps away from the scene of the crime.

Something flew by his right ear, stopping him in his tracks.

Puzzled, he stayed low and looked in the general direction the unknown object originated from.

Seeing three pointed projectiles slicing through the air toward him, his reflexes executed a delicate dance to avoid the danger.

Dodging left then right, he threw himself onto his back.

Trent now knew what was happening.

Tapping his right earlobe, he shouted an urgent message, “
Under fire! I’m under attack! This is not a drill! Backup requested
!”

Arching his back, he lunged onto his knees. The tall prairie glass waved just over his head as he aimed the MRG out front. Letting lose a steady stream of BBs, he mowed down the grass and swung the barrel left and right. The wind carried a flutter of clippings away.

A lack of counter fire convinced Trent to release the trigger. Shifting left, he changed position into uncut grass for better concealment. Daring to raise his head, he attempted to spy a look at the enemy.

His eyes grew wide.

The terrifying sight encompassed a one-hundred and eighty degree view of tousled grass tops converging on his position.

Dropping below the grass line to avoid more enemy fire, Trent chopped down bushel after bushel of grass as he blindly fired into the unknown.