The Last Hero (28 page)

Before leaving, the four soldiers hammered anything important looking with grenades and then ran to the stairs, down the way they came. In the stairwell, they met up with the other squad, who fired grenades behind them to cover their retreat. Each step on the way out, the group of legionnaires grew thicker. A temporary log jammed formed at the tubes, but the delay was short lived.

I hope we all aren’t as short-lived.

Captain Thomas and Major Jones held fast their respective flanks. Short on grenades, the newcomers eagerly refreshed their supply.

“The shuttles are here.” Jones hurled fire at the enemy through one of the original demo tape holes. “Start boarding, we’ll hold them off!”

One after another of the legionnaires leapt into the round holes to one of the surviving twelve shuttles, but not Trent. He collected a fresh roll of demo tape and proceeded to slap several strips to each broken door, guarding their retreat. Before long, he, Jones, and Thomas would jump up as the last to leave the station.

“
Let’s go
!”

Thomas and Jones fired a final barrage before running and leaping into the last shuttle behind Trent. As the craft closed its hatch, the enemy, seizing the opportunity to spoil the escape, rushed forward. Just as the shuttle began to lift off the hull, and the enemy took aim with heavy munitions, the tape exploded.

The pilot hit the booster, pushing the shuttle to its maximum speed.

Trent buckled himself in and braced for the inevitable.

He didn’t have long to wait.

In a brilliant flash, the station vaporized into a ball of expanding plasma that kissed the tail of the craft, shaking it violently but rendering no real damage.

The shuttle sped beyond the danger, settling into an uneventful ride.

Outside the pilot’s view, Trent caught a glimpse of
Earth’s Fist
.

The damage took his breath away.

Chapter 30: Almost Home

A
loud bang greeted Trent as he exited the shuttle. Jerking to see what caused the sound, he was shocked to see half the shuttle bay had collapsed in onto itself.

Walking closer to the pile of debris, he gazed up into the hole created by the cave-in. At least two decks could be seen. Material that had once made up those levels was now twisted and distorted into a smoldering heap.

“What in God’s name happened?” Amanda asked, humbled by the damage.

“War, Sergeant. War happened here.”

A feminine shriek and tears pulled his attention back to the shuttles.

Captain Thomas dropped her weapon and helmet and rushed to her lover’s side. The dismembered and unconscious Captain Simms was on a stretcher after being unloaded and set down on the floor to await transport to the med bay.

Tears rolled down the usually stalwart captain’s cheeks. Cradling his face in her trembling hands, she placed a gentle kiss upon his lips.

Trent squatted next to her. Wrapping an arm across her shoulders, he offered what weak comfort he could.

“He’s going to be all right. They’ll have him good as new in a few months.”

War happened here as well.

***

Still suited with his helmet in hand, Trent made his way to the bridge. An untold number of obstacles lengthened the journey.

Fractured beams and blown out sections of metal paneling littered the corridors. Dim emergency lighting flickered on and off in some places. A near constant trickle of wounded, some walking, others carried, made their own way to the sick bay.

A visible layer of smoke lingered near the ceiling. Where there still was a ceiling. The level of devastation seemed unreal to Trent. He barely recognized the ship that served as home for so many months. He began to doubt its ability to ferry them through the gate.

Reaching the bridge, he entered in his access code on the keypad. The doors slid open a few centimeters before grinding to a halt. Pressing the open button again and again failed to achieve any result. Gripping the two sections of the door with a hand, Trent used all of his strength to pry open the jammed entryway. It gave way, but slowly and with a fight.

Fireworks of random sparks launched from anywhere electrical wiring ran and rained down flecks of hot light. Trent entered cautiously. The eerie quiet, collapsed ceiling, and dead bodies caused him to imagine the worst.

“Welcome, Colonel.” Captain DeWalt typed into a station data port.

Trent breathed a sigh of relief. Not for the captain’s survival, but for the fact his survival increased the likelihood of getting home. The selfish involuntary response made him feel guilty.

“Was starting to think no one made it out of here alive, glad to see you’re okay, relatively speaking.”

“The bridge took a lot of damage. I’ve transferred most control functions to engineering. I’m about finished here and will head there soon.”

“Causalities?” Trent asked.

DeWalt lowered his head to say, “Lots, several hundred dead and wounded…including Commander Sanchez.”

“I’m sorry. He was a good officer.”

“That he was. Your men performed admirably as part of our damage control efforts. Not sure we could have saved her without them.”

“Glad to hear they were of use to you. How...how is she? Do you think we’ll be able to make the jump?”

The captain stopped typing. He turned to face Trent, leaning backward against the data port with his arms crossed.

“Honestly, Colonel...I don’t know yet. We have hull breeches all over the ship. Numerous areas are simply not accessible. Crew and Legion personnel are trapped all over. Many won’t survive if we don’t reach them soon. And...and the particle beam isn’t responding. I don’t know what’s wrong with it. We’ll have to get someone out there to do a visual inspection.”

The news hit Trent hard. Feeling dizzy, he reached out to grab hold of an intact bulkhead.

“We’ve come too far for this...for this to be the end.”

“Rest assured, Colonel, I don’t intend for this to be the end. Fixing the beam is our top priority. We’re in no condition to fight anything that comes through that gate. Sooner or later, they will come. We can’t be here when they do. I still can’t believe they didn’t get any support. Makes me wonder what’s going on out there. What have we missed these past eighty years?”

“Fine question, I hope to learn the answer soon.” Standing straight, Trent looked from side to side. “I should go check on my Legion. Let me know if there’s anything else we can do to help get us out of here.”

“Oh, Colonel.”

The words stopped Trent in his tracks. He turned and said, “Yes, sir?”

“How did it go for you in there?”

He took in a deep breath. It stank of smoke and death.

“Lost two shuttle loads of troopers just getting there. Those shuttles took
heavy
losses. Inside, we lost another hundred. Could have been a lot worse though. They had some kind of personal shield that stopped our MRG fire. Thankfully, grenades still killed. Fought our way to the bridge, but they set the self-destruct. We barely got out in time.”

DeWalt sighed. “At least no one can say that we didn’t go out swinging.”

***

Trent felt useless.

The 1st Legion was scattered throughout the ship. They were under the command of Fleet personnel, who used the manpower to help with repairs and to rescue trapped crew. Attempts to pitch in as mere manual labor quickly degraded as his rank hindered the efforts of those around him.

There were times in war when a commander was irrelevant. This was one of those times.

It took a moment of concentration, but he managed to think of something important to do. The holding cells were in one of the only areas not damaged during the battle. It struck Trent as remarkable that the corridor outside Hido’s room could look as if nothing happened when just one level up, a direct hit from the base’s laser cannon obliterated the entire section, killing all stationed there. The disparity in death and damage reminded him of how tornados back home in Iowa could utterly destroy one house while leaving the next door neighbor untouched. In war as in nature, carnage didn’t require rhyme or reason. Blind luck, fate, or God’s unseen hand chose who lived and who died.

Trent wasn’t surprised to see the security checkpoint unmanned. Given the circumstances, it stood to reason that guarding Hido would be minimal to nothing.

Before entering the holding cells, he readied the sidearm still strapped to his hip. The chaos of the engagement could very well have provided a warrior of Hido’s ability an opportunity to attempt escape.

Typing in the code, he jumped back to offer verbal authorization from a distance in a battle ready stance to avoid being taken by surprise when the doors opened.

“Guard,” he called into the room, “what is your situation?”

“Bored,” came a sarcastic answer, “and ill-informed.”

Lowering his weapon, Trent walked in. The guard sat, tranq gun in hand. Hido slept sprawled out on the floor.

“Colonel, sir.” The guard sprang to attention. “Nice to see someone, sir. Was beginning to think folks had forgotten about me down here. Haven’t heard an update since the shooting stopped.”

“Not much to report really. The ship’s taken plenty of damage. The crew is working fast to fix it so we can get the hell out of here.”

Trent gestured toward the sleeping hairball. “What’s with him?”

“Oh, yeah. Well...Once things got hairy I tranqed him in case anything happened to me, he was taken care of. He should be out for a couple more hours.”

“Good thinking, Corporal.”

“Thanks, sir.”

Looking side to side, Trent ran a hand through his black hair not knowing what to do next.

“You play chess, Corporal?”

***

The particle beam, that all important piece of tech making travel through dark matter gates possible, came back online soon after an engineer ventured out onto the hull. A hunk of debris had jammed in the array. That was all that separated the wayward travelers from home. Once removed, the system worked just fine.

With the beam functional,
Earth’s Fist
raced into the right position to make the leap to Alpha Gate and home.

The damage was under control. All those who could be freed from metal tombs had been. This allowed dozens of crew and legionnaires to file onto the observation deck to witness the momentous occasion.
             

Trent wouldn’t, couldn’t, miss the moment even though he feared what he would find on the other side. Was Anna still alive? Would she forgive him? The possible answers to those questions tormented him, but he had to know.

Standing in the front row and holding onto the railing as if on a roller coaster about to plunge down a steep dive, Trent waited with a racing heart. Amanda stood at his side. Both still wore battle suits and dirty faces from the fighting. A brace held her broken arm in place for the nanos to do their work.

None of that mattered.

They couldn’t erase their smiles if they wanted to. 

The weight of a tightly packed crowd grew heavier against their backs with each passing second, pushing them hard against the railing. The commotion and excitement of the moment gave Trent the confidence to do something radical. Slowly releasing his grip on the railing, he slipped a hand down to his side. There he gently took Amanda’s hand into his.

Mistaking the intimate contact for an accident, she at first recoiled, not wanting the touch to reveal their true feelings for one another. Exchanging looks from the corner of their eyes, she realized his intentions. Casually gazing around the room Amanda concluded their hands were the last thing anyone was paying attention to, even if they were visible in such a crowd.

Eyes locked forward, she met his open palm with hers. Fingers intertwined as they squeezed.

The particle beam fired.

The audience breathed in and held.

A continuous pure blue stream of light and energy cut across space. Impacting on the dense mass of dark matter, a swirling vortex appeared, the wormhole.

The beam grew shorter. Soon, it barely registered as the tip of
Earth’s Fist’s
cone touched the gate. As if by magic, the view abruptly shifted. Instead of the vortex, they now saw a gigantic metallic sphere in the distance. Dozens of vessels orbited it.

No one exhaled yet.

No one dared believe that they made it home. They waited for a sign.

It came over the intercom, broadcasted ship wide courtesy of the captain.

An excited male voice relayed the news, “Welcome home,
Earth’s Fist
! You’re a bit late aren’t you?”

An ecstatic, deafening cheer, not equaled in history, erupted from the crowd

Some clapped so hard they risked breaking their hands.

Others, delirious with joy, cried uncontrollably.

A few grabbed the nearest member of the opposite sex to kiss deeply while others hugged everyone around them.

Trent turned to Amanda. A single tear pooled under her eye. It started to fall, but he caught it with an index finger. He softly ran the finger down her cheek. She looked into his eyes.

He mouthed, “I love you.”

Amanda returned the silent words.