The Last Hero (6 page)

“As I was saying, people are complicated. If you had read Bitter’s file, you never would have predicted that would happen.”

“Why’s that, sir?”

“Can’t say, but I’m sure one day you’ll figure it out. So tell me. What’s your story?”

“Oh, really nothing all that interesting, sir. Grew up in a suburb of Phoenix. Dad’s a lawyer, Mom stayed home, and I have a brother. After high school, I was bored so I joined the Army. Got bored again after my discharge, so I was happy for the chance to join up again.”

Having reached the entryway to the mess hall, they stopped. Officers and enlisted didn’t eat together.

“That, Corporal, was a brilliant exercise in brevity. You sort of glossed over the parts where you were the Arizona state champion in the 400 meters. And your special forces training, plus I believe you failed to mention the bronze star you were awarded for that little episode in Mexico. Why if it wasn’t for that whole striking a superior office incident, you would be running one of these squads.”

“Like I said, sir, you know it as well as I do.”

They turned to head in their respective directions, but Trent halted and glanced back.

“Oh, Corporal. Just for the record. You were right to hit that son-of-a-bitch. He had it coming.”

She smiled and walked away.

***

One month later—ship time.

Already suited up in his elf green outfit for the shuttle ride through the system to the target planet, Trent entered the bridge to bid farewell to Captain Chen.

“Captain, I just wanted to thank you for getting us this far.”

“My pleasure, Major,” Chen said as they shook hands. “I just wish we could make sure you got there safe and sound.”

“You and your crew have done more than enough. I wish you didn’t have to start back to the other gate. That’s another ten years you’ll lose.”

“Oh no, I think of it as gaining ten more years. As far as I am concerned, a month from now I’ll jump to Alpha Gate, take command of a proper warship, and really get in this fight.”

“I hope our paths cross again, Captain.”

“As do I. You should be on your way. Every second this ship is here, we risk detection.”

“Aye, aye, Captain.”

They exchanged salutes one more time before Trent double-timed it to the shuttle.

Chapter 8: The Drop

C
ripes, I’ve never been so bored in my life.

The stealthy shuttle flight through the system had turned into the worst exercise in boredom that Trent had ever endured. In the end, there were only so many books he could read, so many mental training drills one could do, and only so many stationary exercises to perform before the troops started to lose it.

The system was full of junk. Ten planets, several dozen moons, and lots and lots of comets, asteroids and planetoids. Plenty of stuff to hide behind while micro-probes peeked around corners to see if the coast was clear for them to hurry to the next hunk of rock.

This hurry, hide, and wait cycle repeated itself over and over during their two month-plus trek.

Finally, their journey neared its end. The shuttle rested on a small meteor, not much larger than the craft itself, hurtling through space and taking them to within 40,000 kilometers of the planet.

“Lieutenant, how much longer till we make our dash?” Trent asked Lt. Thomas, whose pre-Legion service included a tour as an orbital bomber pilot for the U.S. Air Force.

“Five minutes till we get as close as this thing is going to take us. Simms, are the probes showing anything?”

“No. The same as when you asked five minutes ago, and five minutes before that. If I see anything, you’ll be the first to know, trust me.”

“Excuse me for not wanting to get us killed so close to home plate. I haven’t spent two months on this bucket to get killed now. By the way, I doubt I’d be the first woman to get burned after you’ve said trust me.”

“Cool it you two.”

They both responded, “Yes, sir.”

“
Crap,” Simms shouted, “I have a contact.”

Trent darted over to the screen.

“What? Where?”

“Right there, sir.” Simms pointed to the North Pole. “I sent probes to the edges of the planet, to let us know if a ship started to approach from the gate side. If he holds course, he’ll block us.”

“This rock takes us right to their main force. Fuck. Thomas.” Trent rushed back to the pilot’s seat. “Can we make it into the atmospheric soup before he gets into line-of-sight?”

“It will be close but…I think we can make it.”

“That will have to be good enough. Hit it! Kick this pig and get us airborne.”

Thomas slapped down hard onto the thruster’s launch button. They burst to life with a roar. The g-forces instantly hit. Legionnaires were caught unprepared, including Trent. The movement knocked him to the floor. Inertial dampeners on smaller craft weren’t as fast as those on the larger ships. 

Thomas snapped, “Everyone get buckled in and hold onto your panties! This is going to be bumpy!”

Trent crawled into the co-pilot chair. Once he was fastened in, Thomas yelled orders over the sound of the thrusters. He didn’t hesitate following her commands.

“Rig us for silent running. Shut down everything but the engines, including life support. We’re close enough to the planet to make it. The lower the electric signature the better.”

“Enemy ship will be over the hump in six minutes!” Simms announced.

“Major, listen closely. We are not going to make it. A second before the ship hits the top of the pole, I want you to kill the engines.”

“
Kill
the engines?”

“If we don’t go in dead, we’re dead.”

Trent bellowed, “Simms, give me a five second count down before they’ll see us. Got it?”

“Sure thing!”

When the time came, Simms began the count down, and Trent’s hand hovered over the kill switch.

“Five…Four…Three…Two...”

He mashed his hand on the switch. Silence washed over the shuttle.

Trent suddenly felt exposed.

Both sensations were short lived.

The shuttle’s hull violently slammed into the planet’s atmosphere at a speed beyond design tolerance. The sound of stressed metal screaming in pain filled the cabin. 

“Everyone get your helmets on now,” Trent barked, “I’ll get yours on you. You just keep us alive,” he told Thomas.

She nodded.

He reached under their chairs, pulling out two helmets. He placed his on his head. The nano fabric hanging around the neck hole automatically attached itself to the body and created an airtight seal. He did the same for Thomas.

“
Alert, Alert, Alert
,” the ship’s computer declared without emotion. “Current entry course violates safety protocols. Please adjust course.”

Thomas yelled, “
Shit
! Major, Override the protocols. The computer will take over. We don’t want that.”

“On it.”

Trent attacked the controls and completed the complex override procedure in record time.

“Done.”

“Alert, 25,000 meters to impact,” the computer announced.

Trent looked out at the shuttle’s nose. It glowed bright red. For a moment, he worried it might melt.

“Simms, the ship. What’s the ship doing?” Thomas demanded.

“It’s...holding course. I don’t think they can see us.”

“Should I fire up the atmospheric thrusters?” Trent asked.

Thomas answered with the cold, cool calm of a seasoned pilot totally focused on the task before her.

“No. I want more distance between us. I’m going to glide this pig a way.”

“Alert, 20,000 meter to impact.”

“She’s your baby, Lieutenant. Don’t get us killed. Get as close as you can to their base, but make damn sure that mountain range is between us.”

“That’s what I am waiting for. I want to be below the mountain range before powering up.”

“Alert, 10,000 meters to impact.”

“Okay, when we hit eight, fire her up.”

“Got it.”

“Alert, 9,000 meters to impact.”

His hand hovered over the ignition controls like a rattlesnake waiting to pounce.

“Alert, 8...”

Trent hit the ignition...nothing. He hit it again and again...nothing.

Thomas yelled, “What’s happening? Where’s my power?”

“It won’t start. I think we suffered damage on the hot entry.”

“It you don’t get those engines started Major, we’ve come all this way to make a really expensive stain on the surface.”

“Alert, 5,000 meters to impact.”

Trent pounded away at the controls, then hit the ignition. Nothing.

“Alert, 4,000 meters to impact.”

He repeated the process. Nothing.

“Alert, 2,500 meters to impact.”

He tried again. The engines whined as if they wanted to start but couldn’t.

Trent shouted, “Start, you stubborn bitch!”

“Alert, 1,000 meters to impact.”

“Major!”

“Alert, 500 meters to impact.”

“
Major
! I need those engines
now
!”

His heart raced. Sweat flowed freely down his face. This was it, one more chance. His hand landed on the ignition just as he closed his eyes to say a silent prayer.

I just want to see Anna again.

Boom
!

The control panel in front of Trent lit up like a Christmas tree, but he didn’t see it. He didn’t need to have his eyes open to know that the shuttle came roaring back to life. If not for the sound, the g-forces hitting his body would have told him as much.

Trent didn’t move, didn’t even open his eyes. He calmly sat there at peace. Neither the dying shuttle struggling to complete its final mission or the terrified screams of the passengers could penetrate the aurora surrounding him.

I’m not going to die today. Not here. Not on this planet. I will see Anna again. I will see my daughter. Do you hear me God! I have my own plan, and it doesn’t involve dying here.

He opened his eyes just in time to see the nose of the shuttle hitting the tops of what appeared to be trees. Ahead of them lay an entire forest of such things, offering no open ground for a soft landing.

Thomas muttered just loud enough for Trent to hear, “Christ, we’re going to die.”

Trent turned to her.

“No. We are not going to die.”

The shuttle dipped below the tops of the trees and slammed head on into solid trunks, snapping them in half. The hull held, but each blow brought it closer to buckling from the continuous assault.

“Woohoo!” Simms shouted. “This ride is awesome!”

Just when the shuttle couldn’t take another blow, they plowed through to a small strip of open ground. The spacecraft hit the red earth with a thud and slid, kicking up a thick cloud of debris.

The left side caught a boulder, sending the shuttle into a wild spin. That resulted in them flipping upside down. The shattered hull sent a thin volley of deadly shrapnel into the cabin. A hundred meters later, they came to a rest on the edge of a creek.

Trent was alive.

Not everyone was as lucky.

Chapter 9: Aftermath

W
hile hanging upside down in the co-pilot’s chair Trent used the rudimentary, and hastily put together, all-purpose AI uploaded into his helmet to access the unit’s status.

The combat assist link, CAL, served a million uses but frustratingly could only answer in text. The fact the program functioned at all, given the time limitations to resurrect yet another shelved military R&D project, was a miracle of human ingenuity.

“Report on unit readiness,” he commanded.

Fifty-one soldiers accounted for. Injuries: one broken arm, four concussions, two broken legs, five minor puncture wounds, and three killed in action. Forty-one combat effective.

KIAs!

“Who are the KIAs?”

Sergeant Metz: Puncture wound to cranium.

Private Williams: Puncture wound to first vertebra.

Sergeant Henderson: Puncture wound to the cranium.

Henderson! Not Henderson. Not like this! Okay. Get a grip. First, I must get out of here and start pulling everyone together.

Trent opened a line to the unit amid cries of pain.

“Okay, listen up. We’re still alive, we made it. Our mission is still a go. First ord...”

“Holy shit! I think Metz is dead!” an unrecognizable voice shouted.

“Listen up! We have causalities. Metz, Henderson, and Williams are dead. There’s nothing we can do for them. We have wounded to help, and a mission to complete.
Do you get me
?”

Only a few muffled affirmative responses came through.

“Anyone who is not hurt carefully get down, then we’ll help the wounded and form a medic station outside. That’s our priority. Get to it.”

***

With everyone evacuated from the shuttle, Trent organized operations. He gathered Captain Jones, Lt. Thomas, and Lt. Simms to hand out work assignments.

“We don’t have a lot of time. We need to cover our tracks as best we can and get away from here, ASAP.”

“We have wounded, sir.” Simms said.

Jones said what Trent was thinking. “We’ll stabilize them as best we can. None of them are serious. We need to put some distance between us and this wreck.”

“Exactly, Captain.” Trent pointed at her. “Secure all of the supplies out of the shuttle that we can carry and oversee the medic’s preparations of the wounded. Get them ready to move. Also, make sure anything left in the shuttle is destroyed. If the Bearcats find this site, I don’t want them to gain any useable intelligence.”

He shifted toward Thomas.

“Put together a work detail, minus the medics. Take Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta squads. I need you to cover the shuttle and crash trail as best you can. Use whatever you can find. Branches or anything else you can think of. I know you won’t be able to hide it well, I just want it hidden well enough so it won’t be so visible from the air.

“Simms, I need you to take Echo. Divided them up. I want one group to start taking samples, air, soil, and water. Run tests to see what this environment has in store for us. CAL’s initial readings don’t look good for getting out of these suits anytime soon. I want to be sure.”

Trent paused, not wanting to give the next order.

“Sir?”

“Yes, Simms.”

“What do you want me to do with the rest of Echo?”

“Burial detail,” the words fell off his lips more than were spoken. “Pick a nice spot well within the tree line. Dismissed.”

Once the officers walked away, Trent stared at the landscape. The planet looked a lot like home, expect in the way blue/green dominated Earth’s color palette, red/orange ruled this world. He turned, taking it all in, finally resting his gaze on the mountain range they would have to cross en-route to their objective. He could hear animal noises off in the woods and hoped they could avoid the creatures.

“CAL, ping Corporals Roth and Gabriel. Tell them I need to speak with them as soon as they can get to me.”

Not a minute later, they both approached, appearing as little more than smudges on the landscape. When activated, the elf green suit’s nano infused fabric on each side reflected the image on the opposite side of the suit making the wearer somewhat invisible.

If someone looked closely, they could detect a light distortion. This distortion became more pronounced the more the suit moved. It was the best camouflage possible.

Trent’s CAL was the only way he could tell the two apart.

“Gabriel, I’m sorry about Henderson. He was a hell of a soldier.”

“One of a kind, sir.”

“I wish this was under different circumstances, but it is what it is. You are both promoted to acting squad sergeant. Roth, you take over for Metz and Gabriel...Henderson. I know both of you will rise to the challenge. This mission has just begun. Failure is not an option.”

***

Trent reached the creek’s edge. The flowing water teemed with life as dozens of small fish swam around. He squatted to join Simms and his team analyzing the environment.

“What do you have for me?”

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Just lay it out. I am not in the mood.”

“The water is okay. Well it’s not really okay, but our suits can make it work if need be.”

“The air?” Trent asked in a tone relaying that he wanted to get to the real point.

Simms shook his head. “It’s a no go. Our nano immune system should be able to take care of any alien bacteria and such, but the damn atmosphere is ninety-five percent methane and five percent carbon dioxide.”

“Shouldn’t the nanos in our lungs process the CO into oxygen?”

“Yeah, they can do that but at such low levels it won’t work. Bottom line is we’re stuck in the suits until extraction.”

“Of course we are. Not sure why I dare dream anything would go our way today. Thanks, Lieutenant.”

Trent stood.

“Oh, um...sir?”

“Yes.”

“The burial detail is ready. Did you want to say anything? You know...like a service or something.”

“It will be the last thing we do before moving out.”

***

The golden sun began to set against the crimson horizon as the unit gathered around the three freshly dug graves. The bodies lay bare in their final resting place having been stripped of any technology the enemy could study. The nanos in their system had long since self-destructed.

The graves sat several meters inside the tree line with a nice view of the creek. Trent liked the spot. Henderson was an outdoorsman and would have appreciated the scenery.
             

I was really looking forward to charging into the breach with you one more time, old friend.

He surveyed the nearly invincible mourners and thought they made the oddest bunch of funeral attendees in history, with their almost ghost-like appearance.

In a somber tone, he began.

“Take a look. You are standing before history. Here lie the first combat casualties of the Earth Legion. The first to fall in humanity’s first interstellar war. All of that bullshit will matter to someone someday, but not today and not to us.

“Sergeant Metz, Private Williams, and Sergeant Henderson aren’t historical relics. They were our friends, our comrades in arms. That means something, it means something special.

“I had the honor of serving with Henderson before this mission. He was a fearless warrior, and I deeply regret that he won’t be at my side in the coming battle. Sadly, fate, or destiny for that matter, didn’t allow me the opportunity to fight side by side with Metz and Williams. For that, my life will have been lesser. While I cannot speak of their valor from personal experience, I can tell you that when the call came…when their people asked for their help to fight an unknown nightmare, they stood up to be counted while many shied away.

“Carry their memory with you into battle. You will be stronger for it. May whomever you call God have mercy on our souls.”

Good-bye old friend. I will join you soon enough, but not today.

***

With the graves filled, the remaining forty-eight legionnaires of Earth marched away from the shuttle that had served as their home for over two months. Those with broken legs couldn’t walk for another day, at which time the nanos’ repair work would be completed. Until then, their stretchers would have to be dragged.

With much ground to cover in a short time, their walk turned into a slow jog. This in turn became a brisk one. There they were, forty-eight ghosts running away from death into a setting alien sun on a course taking them to the unknown.