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

by Nathaniel Danes

  She took his hand. “Maybe there’s another way. Maybe we can get what we need without a fight.”

  “I’d like to believe that, I really would. I just don’t see how we’re going to convince them to simply hand it over while their own home world is dying.” Dipping his chin, he sighed and shook his head. “They’re a stubborn people under the best of circumstances.”

  “I’m sorry.” She squeezed his hand. “I love you. Most of all, I trust you to do what’s right, especially if what’s right is the lesser of two evils. I know the rest of the legion and fleet feel the same. Few know better than you that sometimes you have to give unpleasant orders for the greater good. To save lives in the long run.”

  “Yeah, I sure do. One of these days I’d really like some easy decisions.” He tossed his arms forward. “Like when should I plant the corn.”

  Amanda’s laughter tickled his ears. “I have a hard time picturing you as a farmer.”

  “Hey, there’s a long history of generals retiring to the fields.”

  “Farming?” She twisted her lips. “I don’t know. I’m more of a city girl.”

  “You have to remember, our lifespans will be measured in centuries. I’ll make you a deal. We’ll farm for a couple of decades and then you get to pick what we do next.”

  She patted his thigh. “I’ll think about it.”

  “That’s fair.” He leaned over to give her a long, deep kiss. He could feel her heartbeat quicken. Her hand reached for his collar but he stopped her. “I really need to go see DeWalt, but I promise to pick this up tonight.”

  “Fine.” She nibbled his earlobe and whispered, “You’d better bring your A game.”

  ***

  Trent found DeWalt in the engine room. He was atop the spiral staircase, examining the patch work done at Echo. “She gonna hold?”

  DeWalt ran his hand over the rough but solid surface. “It’ll do the trick. I’m still amazed that that Colonel Jones of yours managed to stabilize the core without getting fried like an egg.”

  “She’s a tough Brit.”

  “What can I do for you, general?” The metal steps rattled on his way down.

  “Wanted to let you know that the First is ready to roll whenever you are. What’s your sense for when the fleet will be ready?”

  They strolled away from the pillar housing the core. “I’m comfortable with jumping in ten hours. I want to run another series of system checks on the Fist and United States. The rest of the fleet is in fine shape.”

  “That Captain Villanueva is a crazy bastard.” Trent smirked. “I didn’t expect her to press the States into this fight.”

  “What would you expect after that speech of yours? She wasn’t going to be left behind. Even if I had the authority to order her to stay at Echo, I doubt she would’ve listened.” He looked around the busy room. “So why did you come all the way down here to ask something I could have answered in a text?”

  “It’s about our little fleet. There’s a problem.”

  DeWalt arched an eyebrow. “What would that be?”

  “By my count, we have four battleships, seven cruisers, and a battlecarrier.”

  “Not bad counting—for a dirt pounder.”

  Trent smiled. “That’s a lot of ships. A lot of captains without an admiral.” He reached into a pocket and pulled out two silver stars. “We need an admiral and I can’t think of anyone better than you. The way you led us through the last fight left me no doubt in your ability to command a large force.”

  “I’m honored, general, but honestly, you don’t have the authority to promote me to flag rank. I’m not sure it’ll stand with the other captains. Some of them are senior to me in real years of service.”

  Trent waved off his words. “Admiral, if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that power is a matter of perception. I’m the founder of our little revolt and the leader of this task force. It’s my call who commands the space operations, and you’re my man.” His fingers pinched the eagles from DeWalt’s collar. They fell to the floor with a soft ting as he pinned the new rank on.

  “Thank you, general.”

  He shook his head. “No, don’t thank me. I haven’t given you an honor. I’ve cursed you, but I’m sure you already know that. It’s one of the reasons you’re qualified for the job.”

  ***

  When the barrack’s door opened, Gabriel thought it was oddly quiet. Legionnaires tended to be a rowdy bunch. The room was largely empty save for a tightly packed group in the rear with their backs to him.

  His approach went unnoticed. Catching a glimpse into the center of the group, he realized they were watching combat footage from the Second Contact War.

  “What are you lowlifes up to?”

  Six troopers shot to their feet.

  “Relax.” He chuckled, patting the air. It dawned on him then. These men were all privates, combat virgins who had popped their cherries against the Kitright. They’d been trained to fight Bearcats but never got the chance. “Oh, I get it. You’re seeing what you might be going up against.”

  Private Poland’s eyes bulged. “So the rumors are true?”

  He shrugged. “It’s a possibility, but Maxwell will do everything he can to avoid fighting the Bearcats again.”

  Private Samson leaned in. “Sarge, you and the general go way back, don’t you?”

  “All the way back to the U.S. Army. We fought together in the South Africa campaign, the last mission of the American military.”

  “What’s he like, sarge? All we know is the official history and legion legends.” Poland looked around the group. “It just seems like we’re really fighting an uphill battle. Can he, can we, really do it? Can we beat these things?”

  Twelve eyeballs focused squarely on Gabriel. Reaching out, he grabbed a chair and spun it around to sit backwards. “Let me tell you about the Trent Maxwell I know, the man I met in the Rangers.

  “Lieutenant Maxwell was a solid junior officer, but like most of ‘em, he barely knew his asshole from a hole in the ground.” Laughter from the group filled the room. “It wasn’t his fault, he was young and green without a combat patch.

  “Our captain, on the other hand,” he sighed, “was full of piss and vinegar but light on brains. He earned his patch by riding a desk on a glorified humanitarian operation and thought he was the next Stonewall.

  “Our company’s mission in South Africa was to drop behind enemy lines and raise as much hell as we could, drawing enemy forces from the coast to give the Marines a better shot at rescuing hostages. We should’a stuck to easy targets that we could hit hard and disappear before reinforcements could arrive.

  “But the captain had grander ideas. He got it in his head that we should attack a major installation right off the bat.” He pressed his lips tight and shook his head. “It was a total Charlie-Foxtrot, a meat grinder that cost us thirty-two men. As a bit of poetic justice, the captain was one of them, in addition to every other officer.”

  Samson gasped. “Maxwell had to take command?”

  “Sure did, and every one of us was certain we’d end up KIA. Surrounded and on the run, things were looking pretty bleak, but Maxwell rallied us. He led us out of the immediate shit-storm and took the offensive.” A wide grin stretched across his face, “I still don’t know how he did it. We moved like ghosts. Hit them where they weren’t looking and did it again and again.

  “By the time we made for the extraction point, the Revelatory Front command had diverted three whole divisions to the interior to rein us in.” He shifted hard eye contact from private to private and jabbed a finger forward. “We only lived because that wet-behind-the-ears kid got us out, and the Trent Maxwell I know today is ten times the man he used to be back then.

  “We might be fighting uphill, but he’s just the man to lead us to victory. He’ll do whatever needs to be done to save Earth and he won’t be denied. Before this is all over, we will be in the toughest fight any legion has found themselves in.

  “When
the moment of truth arrives, when victory hangs in the balance, you’ll know it because Trent Maxwell will be in the trench with you. When that moment comes, I expect every last one of you to dig deep and give it all you have. We’re Earth legionnaires and nothing is beyond duty. This is a crusade and we’re holy warriors of mankind.”

  ***

  Commander Aleah Essa snapped a sharp salute.

  DeWalt returned it. “At ease, commander.”

  “Congratulations, admiral, on your promotion.”

  “Thank you. Please have a seat.” He thumbed a sheet of e-paper. “I want to tell you how much I personally appreciate your initiative in bringing the Finland over to our side. She’s a fine ship, a real asset to our mission.”

  She sat stiff as a board. “It was the right call, sir.”

  “I was planning to bump you up to captain, but a cursory review of your record gave me pause. I noticed you’ve been a commander for over twenty years, passed over for command on several occasions. I dug deeper but wanted to hear your side of the story before I made a final decision.” He leaned back.

  DeWalt was referring to the Isandlwana. Essa was the XO of the cruiser when it was locked in a one-on-one engagement with a Bearcat vessel. The equally-matched ships met on deep patrol and dueled for thirty minutes until her captain was killed and Essa assumed command. The contest was undecided and her ship had plenty of fight left in it. She gave the order to withdraw despite passionate protests from the crew. Her actions forever painted her as a coward.

  It always comes down to that one mistake. Even now my past haunts me, she thought. She cleared her throat, keeping her back as straight as a rail. “I could make a lot of excuses about my decision to disengage, sir, but at the end of the day, I lost my nerve. I quit because I was scared.”

  He opened his mouth but she lifted her fingers from her lap. “Please, if I may, sir.” He nodded. “Thank you. I made a mistake over twenty years ago and I’ve paid for that error again and again. I’m not the same officer I was then.”

  “But you stayed in the service.” He folded his hands on his desk. “You were passed over repeatedly. Anyone I can think of would’ve left long ago. Why you didn’t is what I’m most curious about.”

  “Sir, I realized I was dead wrong soon after. I quit when it got hard and I swore to myself that I would never quit again.” She clenched her fists. “You can promote me or not, sir. Either way I will fight without stopping until we win or I die. Period.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Unpleasant Business

  The com officer perked up. “The station is hailing us.”

  “Audio reply only.” DeWalt nodded at Trent to proceed.

  Trent stepped forward and stared at the base. The horizontal circular tube and vertical cylinder in the middle brought back a flood of memories from the final operation of the Black Marble detour.

  Images of the last Bearcats he had killed assaulted his concentration. Guilt fogged his mind. Clearing his throat, he gathered himself. “Glorious allies, we are on a mission to exchange information and seek ways to coordinate an attack on our common foe.”

  “They’re asking who is addressing them, sir.”

  “I am General Trent Maxwell of the First Earth Legion and proud member of Clan Kazi.”

  “Visual feed coming through, sirs.”

  DeWalt sat high in his chair. “On screen, ensign.”

  High Commander Gondo appeared. A broad smile displayed rows of razor sharp teeth. “General, it pleases me to see you alive. I feared you were lost in the first wave of the enemy’s merciless attack.” Gondo was with the First Order and had commanded the ground invasion of Kitright Prime. His indecision in the heat of battle had almost led to a disastrous defeat until Trent convinced him to hand over battlefield authority.

  “We were nearly lost, and escaped only because of the sacrifice of many under Admiral Chen’s command. Much of our fleet is gone and our home world is being ravaged by the Keeper vessel.”

  “We are in a similar situation, my friend. Our Armada made a glorious stand but were swept aside. Every ship in our realm rallied to its defense but suffered the same honored fate. Now my brothers in the home orders are all that stand in the way of extermination.”

  “Fear not, high commander.” Trent raised a fist. “While I am unable to come to your home world’s aid in a timely manner, I believe we may be able to save your colonies.” The half-truth allowed him to project a demeanor of righteous confidence despite the ache in his belly. “May I come aboard with a select group of personnel to explain our stratagem?” He sold the ruse with a grin.

  “Come aboard as soon as you can, general. I am most eager to hear your plan.”

  The channel was cut.

  His grin sank into a frown. No one said a word. They all hated themselves too much to speak.

  ***

  The shuttle ride to the station was a somber affair, void of eye contact or words. Trent only took his most trusted comrades on this dreadful mission: Amanda, Jones, Simms, and Gabriel. He feared lesser soldiers, or better men, depending on how one looked at it, might lack the resolve to do what must be done. Each had a part to play and he worried about them. Not for their lives, but for their souls. For his, as well.

  Metal on metal clanks signaled when they’d touched down in the hanger bay. Trent whipped his head up. “Brighten up, people. Try not to look like we’re at a funeral. We can sulk after the op’s a success.”

  Forced smiles materialized, but they couldn’t do a thing about their eyes. Fortunately, it was unlikely the Bearcats would notice the subtle human tell.

  “Greetings!” Gondo marched up the ramp to embrace Trent at the midpoint. His furry mass enveloped the human. A group of five officers waited at the bottom. A quick scan of the bay revealed it was empty but for them. “Your arrival is the first good news we have received in sometime. Tell me, what is this plan of yours? My bones ache for revenge.”

  Trent held up a data-chip. “I’ll show you on the command deck. Lead the way, high commander.”

  Gondo spoke as they walked through the clean and shiny corridors of the base, but Trent wasn’t paying attention. He was too busy trying to not vomit. Of all the life-and-death situations he’d charged into in his military career, none of them had been as difficult as strolling along like nothing was wrong. He did notice that they failed to encounter any other base personnel on the journey.

  Elevator doors parted onto the nearly deserted command deck. A brief flashback of the past, chaotic battle kicked his head back. He saw images of Amanda in grave danger and a self-destruct countdown ticking away. Looking back, he caught Amanda’s attention. She swallowed hard and nodded, she was ready to go.

  They walked up to a holo table that had a depiction of the Bearcat home world displayed. Huge continents covered three-fourths of the surface in a layer of green.

  Gondo reached out and spun the globe. “Every combat simulation I run predicts the final defeat of my world within the next solar cycle. My people will fight to the last but no fortress can withstand unending assaults without support.” He hammered the table, sending a loud bang through the room. “I sit here, rotting, while females and younglings are hunted and slaughtered.”

  Trent tracked his team from the corners of his eyes. They carefully slipped pieces of an EMP grenade into Simms’ pockets. The disassembled device had evaded detection by the security system. The plan was to keep the officers’ attention while Simms rebuilt the grenade. He would then plant it somewhere out of sight for detonation later. It couldn’t be activated with them in the room. Outside of their battlesuits, their nanos would die from the electromagnetic burst.

  The pulse would knock out their command and control, giving Earth’s Fist time to ferry over boarding parties uncontested. Trent prayed they could take the base without bloodshed but knew he was kidding himself.

  He wanted to bypass the base once they determined it possessed no offensive capabilities. It was agreed, however, t
hat cruising past would’ve been a red flare to the target. This way, if they seized the facility without allowing the alarm to be sounded, they could buy time with phony com traffic.

  “General.” Gondo regained his composure. “Please tell us of your plan.”

  Their piecing yellow eyes focused on him, exactly where he wanted them. He cleared his throat. “Umm, yes, the plan.” He handed the chip to Gondo who gave it to a tech for interface conversion. In seconds the display shifted to a gray pyramid rotating over the table.

  The towering officers leaned in with gaping snouts. Gondo froze the image. “What is this?”

  A painful knot tightened in Trent’s gut. He sucked in a breath and pushed it down. “We’re not certain. It was discovered on a colony of ours a few years ago and then buried within a top-secret government research project. Almost no one, including Admiral Chen, knew about it. I only recently became aware of it. We suspect it was a prototype for the later models. Our researchers believe they’ve found a weakness we can exploit.”

  I hope they bought that. They’re desperate for hope. They’ll believe what they want, what they need to. God forgive me.

  “This is excellent news. What is the weakness and how do you suggest we take advantage?”

  “The techs tell me it has to do with the frequency their fields operate on. We can reconfigure our energy weapons to match it and hurt them.” He clenched his fist and smiled ruefully to himself. It was already getting easier to lie, and that scared him. “We need to retool our weaponry as fast as possible and launch an offensive.”

  Gondo hung his head. “This is excellent news, general, and I am eternally grateful you brought it to me. In time, I’m certain it will save what remains of my race. But I’m afraid I have nothing to offer in terms of offensive power. I spoke the truth when I said that we stripped our colonies to the bone to counterattack.

  “As you’ve seen, this station is functioning with a skeleton crew. What personnel and material was left behind, I’ve transferred to this system’s colony to bluster their defenses in the event of an invasion. There is no hope of holding the gate. Our shipyards work nonstop, but it will be some time before we can again take the field.”