The Last Charge of the 1st Legion (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 3)

by Nathaniel Danes

  That was bad, but manageable. The unstoppable alien vessel charging toward Earth, that was a real problem. His quest for supreme power had been replaced with a desperate struggle for survival. Depression had set in.

  He finished the last of the Crown Royal in his glass. His third of the day. He was halfway to pouring himself another when his intercom beeped.

  “Your two o’clock is here, Mr. Chairman.”

  “Send them in.” He pulled his gaze from the office’s skylight atop the kilometer tall building in Manhattan. He sighed. Not another strategy session. I can’t take many more of these.

  “Supreme Commander Walker, please have a seat.” He didn’t bother to stand to properly greet the top military commander of the UES. She was an attractive but uptight woman. He’d never seen her jet-black hair in anything other than a hard bun. “General.” He nodded toward the Legion’s Chief of Staff, David Wills. “Begin when you are ready. My schedule is quite full today.”

  “Of course, Mr. Chairman.” Walker sat straight as a board. “I will hand off to General Wills to give you the breakdown of our surface strategy’s development. As we’ve discussed, it will be our main focus to hold the planet.”

  “Yes, yes.” Dalton flipped his wrist. “Are you sure the Home Guard Fleet shouldn’t at least attempt to make a stand? With support from the orbital defense platform, they may be able to prevent an invasion.”

  Her eyes shifted and locked with Wills.’ “Sir, as we’ve explained, every simulation the battle computers have run predict an easy enemy victory if we confront them in space. Even with the defense platform, we won’t have as much firepower as Admiral Chen’s fleet at Alpha Gate. As far as the Home Guard is concerned, we should reserve it as an asset for the time being. Maybe it will prove useful at the right moment or can join a relief force sent from the colonies.”

  “Ahhh, yes. I remember now. Please, general, continue.”

  Wills handed Dalton a sheet of e-paper. “Given the resources we dedicated to the Kitright offensive, we only have five fully-equipped legions on Earth. These are top-of-the-line units with a full compliment of heavy and super heavy troopers, complete with veteran soldiers in their ranks. We will use these as our shock troops. Preserving them in deep bunkers, waiting for an opportunity to strike decisively.”

  Dalton’s attention waned. He leaned back and pretended to study the e-paper. “What use will they be against a spaceship?”

  “Based on the data collected from the ground assault on Kitright Prime, we believe the enemy will land and deploy ground forces it manufactures internally. Having a ship capable of dominating space and conquering an entire planet are two totally different things, especially when much of the target population is hidden. If they want to exterminate us without wrecking the planet, they’ll have to come down and get us.”

  “Ummm, yes, I agree. But why do you believe they won’t simply destroy everything by pushing asteroids at us?”

  Walker folded her hands. “Frankly, Mr. Chairman, we don’t have much of a choice. We must prepare to defend against a surface invasion and hope the enemy isn’t interested in global genocide of all life. Intelligence believes the enemy is programmed to remove violent elements from society without inflicting widespread destruction on non-targeted species.” She sighed. “Though I have to admit, it’s just a theory—but it’s our only chance.” She gestured toward Wills. “Please continue.”

  He sucked in air. “Between activating able retirees and our crash training program, we have an additional eighty thousand light infantrymen. They are being assigned to the militia units to shore them up. Their sole mission will be to defend the bunkers, and they’ll number in the millions. Defense is a force multiplier. Fighting from well-protected positions, they should get the job done.”

  Dalton looked to the skylight. “Supreme Commander?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “When do you think we can expect a relief fleet from the colonies?”

  “There is no way to know, sir. Our sub-space links at the gate were wiped out.” She cleared her throat. “We shouldn’t plan on receiving support for some time. There is another enemy pyramid out there. The colonies are divided, isolated, and will be concerned with their own security first.”

  Oh, how I wish I hadn’t sent my secret army to P-1425X. I could really use them here. I wish I could contact the research facility. They might know something useful. Oh, well. If things get too bad here, I’ll slip away on my ship and run for the gate.

  “Of course, supreme commander.” He sprung to his feet and came to her side, startling her. “We must prepare to fight the enemy alone. I have every confidence in the two of you.”

  Walker stood. “Mr. Chairman, we have a lot of other issues to brief you on. Such as the evacuation of our Sol System outposts and...”

  He put a hand on her back and walked her toward the heavy wooden doors. “Certainly, of course. Please leave the material with my staff and I will review it ASAP and contact you if I have any questions, eh?”

  “But...”

  He closed the door.

  Now, where did I put my whiskey?

  Chapter Five

  Trapped

  Nathan York made a tight fist to stop his hand from shaking. It’d been thirty-six hours since his last cigarette burned out and the cravings were getting worse. He’d brought cases of smokes with him to P-1425X, but that supply hadn’t been endless, unlike his stay on this hellish planet.

  He gritted his teeth and slammed his fist onto his desk.

  Baam!

  It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

  This was supposed to be a relatively simple assignment. Show up, kick some butts and get the operation on track. Now his facility was crawling with soldiers from IS’ Shadow Corps, he was cut off from communications with anyone outside the system, and a Fleet battle group sailed directly for him. To top it all off, he was now out of cigarettes.

  He brought up a display of the ships approaching. They would be in orbit in a week.

  Maybe I should break radio silence and contact them? See if I can learn what’s going on out there. Shit! I hate being in the dark. Knowledge is power and I don’t know a damn thing. We haven’t had news since the offensive was launched. Did we win? Is the war over and now these assholes are here to wipe us out? Or are they just here by chance? What are the odds? Man, I need a cig!

  York bolted out of his office. He needed to walk off the nervous energy. A scattering of startled lab techs looked up and followed him out with their stares.

  Outside he found himself in the massive dome of space, five by three kilometers with a three-hundred meter-high ceiling. It was carved from solid rock, four kilometers below the surface of the dead planet.

  Large balls of artificial light hung overhead to bathe the research facility in constant daylight. The unending day made him feel even more enclosed. He was buried alive in a really big grave. Dying a slow, agonizing death of suffocation.

  “Dr. Stone?” a scientist called out to him by his cover name. He ignored it, picking up the pace of this angry stroll. Tiny bits of gravel crackled under his footfalls.

  He felt free for a fleeting moment. Turning a corner abruptly, he was confronted by someone he couldn’t ignore.

  General Franks was leaning against a building. “Dr. Stone, do you have a minute?”

  He whipped his head up. “What do you need, general?”

  Franks straightened, tugging at the bottom of his white uniform that clashed against his brown skin. “I wanted to inform you that we’ve completed our surface defensives. Admiral Umair has positioned his ships on the far side of the sun. The enemy is almost here. I thought you’d like to know we are ready.”

  “It’s an Earth force that is approaching. We have no idea of their intentions. I trust you are wise enough not to shoot first and ask questions later.”

  The general stepped forward, glancing side to side. His beady, soulless eyes burned through him. “They aren’t with us. That
’s all that matters. I have strict orders to prevent anyone without clearance from entering this facility. Until I receive new orders, that is exactly what my men and I will do. I’m only informing you as a courtesy. Security is under my sole jurisdiction. You are simply in charge of the lab equipment.”

  Franks walked away. A wave of relief came over York, followed by a cold chill up his spine that gave him a full-body jitter. There was something about Franks and his Shadow Corps that freaked even him out.

  Feeling even more unnerved, he headed to the inner chamber. Maybe work would cure him?

  He breezed past a pair of white-clad guards at the bottom of the ramp. The oval room had ancient alien computers lining the walls. A central table– a holo display, he suspected, sat in the middle. As always, the homely Dr. Smut was hard at work, uncovering the mysteries locked away in the chamber.

  “Hello, Dr. Stone. What brings you here?”

  She glanced down at his trembling hand. He balled it tight.

  “I was just wondering what you’ve learned lately.”

  She sighed. “A whole lot and not much. It’s the same story. We are able to access large quantities of raw data, but the linguist team can’t make heads or tails of the language. It’s almost like the language changes with every file we download. There’s no reference or common pattern we can use to translate it.” She drifted off. “It’s almost like something is actively working against us.”

  “Do you mean some kind of security program?”

  “I don’t know.” She shrugged. “Probably. It’s very frustrating. Everything is at our fingertips, but we can’t get a grip. If it’s a security program, why allow us access at all? Why not just block us out?”

  “All good questions, and I have every confidence you will figure it out.”

  At least I don’t have to report no new progress back to the director. My replacement might be on his way if I did.

  “The equipment I’ve requested could help. When will security protocols return to normal?” She looked at the guards. “I don’t like working with one arm tied behind my back. Not to mention being completely cut off from my friends and family.”

  “I’m afraid the enhanced security measures are still necessary. The moment they are not, I promise to reopen the sub-space channel for private communications.”

  She popped her hip and put a hand on it. “You say the same thing every time, but it never changes.”

  “Believe me, doctor, no one wants to resume normal operations more than me.”

  “Whatever.” She rolled her eyes and walked away.

  At the top of the ramp he took a deep breath through his nose. The recycled air was dry and stale. Then, just when he was about to stop inhaling, he smelled it. Smoke! Tobacco smoke!

  Neurons in his brain fired at the prospect of sweet nicotine once again tickling them. He followed the scent like a bloodhound. His heart raced faster as the intoxicating aroma grew thicker.

  He spotted the source! An assistant lab tech he barely knew was finishing a long drag. York’s mouth watered at the sight of his prey exhaling a cloud of smoke. Finished, the man went back into his quarters.

  He stared at the small cube structure, more a glorified tent than building. Slowly, methodically, he approached the door.

  Nathan York was a man accustomed to being in control. He hadn’t survived going on three decades in UES’ Internal Security by not taking matters into his own hands. Lately, control wasn’t something he felt much of. He desired it, almost as much as he needed a smoke.

  He quietly slipped into the cube. The nameless aide jerked around and leapt back. “Sir! What are you doing in my room?”

  He smiled. “I’m sorry to bother you. I couldn’t help but notice you were smoking. Can I bum one off you? I’ve run out and am jonesing bad.”

  The man, the mark, relaxed. “Oh, no problem, Dr. Stone.” He squatted to pull a case out from under his bed. A treasure trove of cigarette packs was revealed. “I’ve got plenty to shar...”

  The poor man never finished his generous statement. York had circled around him and trapped him in a choke hold, squeezing the life out of him. He felt the dying man’s pulse weaken against his arm. He felt in control and could practically taste the hot vapor on his tongue.

  It was sinfully delicious.

  The victim’s limps went slack.

  Tossing the empty carcass aside like a bag of trash, York lunged for the cigarettes. Ripping open a pack, he lit it and filled his lungs to capacity. The desired drug flowed through his arteries. He felt good, whole, in control.

  Closing the case, he moved to walk out but stumbled on the corpse’s feet.

  Crap. How do I explain you? Oooh, too bad. Sad, really. No one thought you’d hang yourself. You seemed so happy.

  Chapter Six

  A House Divided

  DeWalt re-read the scans. It was all quiet, and that bothered him. He knew someone was out there. That meant they were hiding, and that wasn’t a good sign.

  The system itself was boring. Average size yellow sun and seven planets, including three gas giants. P-1425X was the fifth from the sun, within the ‘Goldilocks’ zone, where water was liquid. Perfect conditions for life. Probe data, however showed it was a lifeless rock.

  Where are you hiding?

  “Send out another detachment of probes.” He looked up from his chair’s terminal. “I’m sending a priority search list. I want another sweep behind the sun.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” His XO, Commander Linda King entered the commands with her black fingers. “Probes away, sir.”

  “Task force time to target?”

  “Twelve hours.”

  “Very well. Please inform General Maxwell of our timetable.”

  ***

  Colonel Jones was sitting alone in the officer’s mess. When she received word they were twelve hours from drop, she had come here immediately. This would be her last chance for a real meal before landing on yet another alien world for God knows how long. The battlesuit’s nutrient pack would provide her body with everything it needed, including a hunger suppressant. She liked the taste of food, however, even the stuff served onboard the ship.

  Soon her schedule would be jammed full with drop prep, so she attacked the pile of food on the tray with abandon, stuffing herself as if it were her last meal. Maybe it was? Totally focused on the task at hand, she didn’t notice the shadow that was cast over her.

  “Colonel Jones.” a husky voice grabbed her attention.

  She looked up to find a towering, barrel-chested man standing over her, a legion lieutenant at full attention. Taking her time to chew, she let him stand there and wait. Served him right for interrupting her pre-combat meal.

  She swallowed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “How can I help you, lieutenant?”

  “Sir! Lieutenant Ander O’Shea, requesting permission to join the First Cohort on the drop, sir!”

  She narrowed her eyes and thoroughly studied him. He was big and tall. If people thought she was built like a linebacker, he was an offensive tackle. Big-jawed with a short mop of red hair on his head.

  She leaned back and crossed her arms. “What’s your story, lieutenant? Why don’t I know you?”

  “Sir.” His eyes stared straight ahead. “I was with the 10th on Kitright Prime. I was wounded by a grenade and transported up here.”

  “You’ve been in sick bay this whole time?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Doing what?”

  “Healing, sir.”

  “You’ve been released and cleared for combat?”

  His eyes shifted. “Not exactly, sir. I escaped.”

  She arched an eyebrow.

  “Sir, I’m good to go. I’m just taking up space we’ll need for real wounded if we meet opposition.”

  Jones closed her eyes to access O’Shea’s records. “Lieutenant, you suffered some serious internal injuries. I can’t have you holding back those around you because you’re bored.”

 
He looked down. His eyes glowed like tiny emeralds. “Colonel, I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think I could help. You might be going into a fight understrength. I’ll be damned if I’m going to sit up here, all warm and comfy, while the legion drops into hostile territory.”

  She dragged her eyes over him once more, settling her gaze on his strong arms. Her pulse quickened. What the bloody hell is wrong with me? She blinked rapidly and cleared her throat. “See Major Simms for your assignment.”

  His face exploded with joy. She couldn’t help but smile back. “Thank you, sir! You won’t regret it.”

  “I better not. Get yourself squared away ASAP.”

  “Absolutely!”

  He did an about-face and walked away. Jones’ eyes lingered on his rear. A rush of heat turned her cheeks rosy. She glanced side to side and exhaled in relief. No one had seen her.

  Get your head out of the gutter, Jones. We drop soon.

  ***

  “Ensign, did their probe detect us?” Admiral Umair paced behind the sensor station, his hands behind his back. He was aboard his flagship Genghis Khan, a dreadnaught-class warship. It was one of three constructed at a secret IS automated shipyard. The monstrous vessel was two and three-quarters kilometers in length. It had more firepower than a battleship and carried its own compliment of fifteen fighters and drones.

  The baby-faced ensign shook her head. “I don’t believe so, sir. The probe made a wide loop around the sun and our cloaking systems were operating at one hundred percent. Light and radiation from the sun should’ve washed us out.”

  “Excellent.” He strolled to his chair. “Where are their probes now?”

  “All are accelerating away from us. Closest one is a third of an AU out.”

  He pressed his olive-toned lips together and nodded before claiming into his chair. Sitting straight, he tugged at the bottom of his green uniform. “All hands, now hear this,” he announced over the intercom. “Battle stations! All hands report to battle stations. This is not a drill, repeat, not a drill. We’ve trained for this moment for years and I have faith that your skill and dedication will carry us to victory. For the Human Empire!”