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

by Nathaniel Danes

  Simms coughed and cleared his throat. That was the signal. They avoided using their neuro-nano com-link for fear of tipping off the Bearcats.

  “I understand your position, high commander. I will leave a copy of the data with you and head back out to see what forces I can rally.”

  Gondo straightened and crossed his arms in salute. The show of respect was like a cold knife in his heart. He returned the gesture and headed for the door before he lost it. He couldn’t look at him anymore.

  A lone escort accompanied them to the shuttle bay. Jones trotted ahead of the group and up the ramp. As she reached for a trank gun under a seat, her comrades put distance between themselves and the Bearcat whose eyes bulged at the sight of the armed human. Shock numbed his reflexes. A soft pop floated off the non-lethal weapon, dropping the huge warrior to the deck.

  It was an unpleasant business that none of them wanted any part in. Sadly, the job wasn’t over.

  Trent broke the silence. “Admiral DeWalt, are you in position?”

  “Affirmative.”

  Trent locked eyes with Amanda. She nodded, giving him the permission he so desperately needed. “Major Simms...” He paused, finding the words hard to move from mind to tongue. “Detonate the charge.”

  ***

  Crouching low around the bay door, Trent covered the corridor to the right. “Clear. Move out, start clearing the outer ring. Gabriel, you’re with me. Everyone else, make your way left. Move fast and knock out as many as you can, but be safe and hold if you encounter stiff resistance. The boarding party only has a few trank guns, and I want to avoid a blood bath.”

  “Understood, sir.” Jones waved for her team to follow.

  Amanda’s voice popped inside his head. “I love you.” Her words eased the burden pressing down upon him.

  Charging down the curving corridor, the duo hurriedly swept three rooms without finding opposition.

  “Just like old times.” Gabriel leapfrogged ahead.

  It was, too much so, in fact. Trent’s mind was consumed with memories of how he came across Hido on Black Marble. Shaking his head, he tried to rid himself of the troublesome thoughts.

  Gabriel took position to invade another door. “On three.”

  Trent hugged the hull and readied himself.

  “Three.”

  The door opened and he darted in at an angle. Gabriel was hot on his heels, entering in another direction.

  A Bearcat came around a corner. Startled, he fumbled for his sidearm. He was a sitting duck, but Trent froze, unable to pull the trigger. His hooked finger trembled as the lethal weapon was raised.

  “Trent!”

  The scream distracted the Bearcat and snapped Trent from his malfunction. Jerking back, his finger released a poorly-aimed shot that deflected off the wall behind his target. Gabriel was on top of his game, though. He sent the warrior into a deep slumber.

  Gabriel approached cautiously, struggling to cover the entire room himself. “You okay, sir?”

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Gabe. Thanks for saving my ass, it won’t happen again. I was...”

  Gabriel held up his palm. “Don’t mention it. This is a shitty situation. Besides, I owed you a couple anyway. Let’s bug out of here. Our shuttles are cutting their way in now.”

  The boarding operation gained momentum. Within a few minutes, the entire outer ring was secured without bloodshed and they pushed into the tubes connecting the center cylinder.

  Jones’ voice flooded the com-link. “Hostile fire!”

  “Give me a sitrep, colonel.”

  “Two Bearcats behind cover are blocking our route inward.”

  “Can you trank ‘em?”

  “We’re trying, but it’s not looking promising and we don’t have an unlimited supply of darts. Requesting permission to use grenades, sir.”

  When people start down a path they know in their heart is wrong, they often set arbitrary lines in the sand of how far they are willing to go. They tell themselves lies that they won’t do this or that because then they’d be doing something really wrong. It’s bullshit, though, because once one starts down that road of good intentions, there’s only one way out.

  Trent swallowed the lump in his throat and ignored the knot in his intestines. “Do what you need to do, colonel. Permission granted. Weapons free.”

  The command center was three-fourths secured when Trent arrived. The room was dead, the stations and terminals were offline. Only one holdout stood between him and total control of the base.

  “He’s been demanding to speak with you.” Amanda jerked her head left. “He’s behind the holo table. We’ve got him surrounded and can take him down when you give the word.” She hung her head and sighed. “We’re out of trank darts.”

  “Then I’d better be convincing.”

  Crouching, he went as far as he could without exposing himself, stopping behind a control panel. “High Commander Gondo, this is General Trent Maxwell. You wanted to speak with me?”

  “Why?” He roared like a lion on the African plains.

  “Duty. Not just to my race, but also my Clan.”

  “Your Clan! You dare to pretend you betrayed us, betrayed your allies for your Clan!” His voice calmed. “You’ve dishonored yourself and Clan Kazi at the highest level.”

  Gondo knew only half the story and spoke a half truth. Still, it was enough to burn a scare into Trent’s soul.

  “I don’t expect you to understand. Not now, at least. Surrender to me and I swear that you will. You will see I’ve done what I’ve done to save both our peoples.”

  Laughter shot out from behind the table, echoing off the hard surfaces. “You foolish human.” Gondo rose. “You can’t sacrifice your honor, disgrace your Clan, and hope to truly save anyone. Especially yourself.”

  Peering over the top, he saw Gondo was unarmed and stood. “You’re wrong. Sometimes survival is the only thing that matters. Some things are greater than honor. Join me and I will show you.”

  “That is where you are wrong and it will be your undoing.”

  Pop.

  Trent shut his eyes at the sound of Gondo’s suicide device detonating inside his skull. A heavy thud signified the collapse of the corpse.

  He couldn’t bring himself to look at the body. He turned away and marched. “Set up the phony com traffic so we can get the hell out of here as soon as possible. We have two species to save from extinction, and I’ll be damned if what we did here today will have been for nothing.”

  I’m probably damned either way.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Bug Out

  This far in the rear, it was almost possible to forget there was a war on. The fires hadn’t penetrated this deep. Birds chirped and the air wasn’t thick with the scent of stale smoke. The soft sounds of casual conversation and laughter were all around.

  Frost lay on unmolested grass, arms behind his head holding his face toward the sun, soaking in the rays. Savoring a breath, he let it out slowly.

  A shadow fell across his closed eyes. “You look relaxed.” Wyatt’s familiar voice spoke down to him.

  Opening his eyes, he saw her towering above him, wearing only bra and panties. She was dripping wet, her oily strawberry-blonde hair slicked back, and she had her hands on her hips. Her straight, petite frame glistened in the light.

  Frost found her cute, but her lack of curves kept his sexual interest low. All for the better, he reminded himself. Sleeping with her might’ve ruined the only friendship he had. Fuck buddies were easy to come by, but true friends were a rarity for a man who was trained to trust no one.

  “Apparently not as much as you.” He shut his lids and yawned.

  She spread out on the ground next to him, keeping half a meter between them. “I decided to jump in the lake for a swim. Haven’t had a shower for forever and figured it was the next best thing. Now I think I’ll join you in getting some sun. I’ve turned as pale as a ghost.”

  “A swim doesn’t sound like a bad
idea.”

  “I suggest you take your battlesuit off first. Otherwise you kinda defeat the purpose.”

  “Point taken.”

  “It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, how quickly people can forget—or pretend to forget—how mad things are.” She lifted her hand to the sky. “Any minute, we could be attacked with overwhelming force and killed, but here we are, lying in the sun like it’s just another day. Weird.”

  “Or very human. Everyone knows how bad the situation is. It’s that little voice in the backs of their heads, screaming every time they dare crack a smile. We aren’t ones to simply surrender to fear, though. We’ll eke out a drop of joy wherever we can. It’s how we survive and why we’ll eventually win.”

  She rolled onto her side. “Do you really believe that? Can we actually win, or are we just stalling?”

  “Oh, we’re stalling, all right. We’re stalling until help arrives.”

  “You keep saying help is coming, but what the hell are even a hundred battleships gonna do?”

  “I’m not waiting for battleships.” He locked eyes with her. “I know for a fact there is hope. There’s something out there that people are searching for, and once they find it, they will come.”

  She pushed her face forward and held up an open palm. “Sooo, what is it that they’re looking for? What do you know that no one else does?”

  “It’s a long story and you wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” He closed his eyes and lay back flat. “But believe me when I say there is hope.”

  “Hope or no hope, it’s all the same for me, really. I’ll fight until I die.”

  “That’s another beautiful thing about the human race. We never give up.”

  ***

  A young ensign looked up from his station with a grim expression. “Admiral Walker, the ship is descending.”

  She hopped off the chair in the command room to make a beeline for her terminal. General Wills stood across from her. “Is everything ready?”

  “As much as they’re ever going to be. It’s mostly out of our hands now and depends on the level of force the enemy deploys.”

  “Intel estimates that given their time in orbit, they will have manufactured their largest landing force yet.” She stared at him. “Can our militia and legion units handle that? Can they punch their way out?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot will depend on the small details that emerge during the engagement. They’ll have to find a crease and hit it with every bit of strength they have. With luck, some will get out.”

  “Some?” Her heart sank. She knew the entire operation was likely a suicide mission from the start, but their success tricked her into believing that maybe, just maybe, she hadn’t sent them all to their deaths. “Maybe we should have built in an escape route through the mountains.”

  He shook his head. “We made the right call, admiral. If the militia had had an escape route, they would’ve used it. As Sun Tzu suggested, we put them on death ground so their only chance for survival was to fight like hell.”

  “I’m not sure I’d say it was the right call. Nothing seems right about it. I pray they fight their way out.”

  “I wouldn’t get your hopes up for a large number of survivors, admiral. Those that do make it out will have a long road to any support.” He came around the table and put a hand on her shoulder. “Try to remember that the mission is a success, no matter what happens today. They’ve focused the enemy’s attention on this phony bunker for almost three weeks. Three or four real bunkers would’ve been wiped out during that same time if not for them. Their sacrifice isn’t for nothing.”

  “I hope you’re right. Dear God, I hope you’re right.”

  ***

  Sergeant Luke Xavier, Ninth Heavy Infantry Cohort, 41st Legion, peeked over his cover. “Here they come!”

  A depression in the scorched terrain hid the vanguard of the attack from sight. The enemy was so numerous, however, that he could see thousands in their rear approaching. A continuous rumble rolled under his metal feet.

  How the hell are we going to get through that?

  The world exploded when a sliver of silver crested before his line. Well covered, the Ninth Cohort mowed down the headless monsters with ruthless efficiency. They’d learned how to bring the beasts down with greater ease. The trick was to aim for a leg to take the target down, then cut off its three arms with streams of supersonic BBs.

  In the end, war comes down to mathematics. Soldiers times firepower times angle applied equals combat impact. Simply put, there were too many of them and too few humans.

  This wasn’t a last stand, though; it was a breakout.

  “Charge!”

  The order rang in the heads of every trooper in the cohort. A battle-cry rose from the armor-clad warriors as they exposed themselves to mortal danger.

  Xavier rushed forward and used the enemy dead as cover. “Pour it into ‘em!” Arms extended, he let loose a torrent of grenades and MRG fire. He wasn’t concerned about conserving ammo; he didn’t expect to be alive long enough for it to be a factor.

  “Forward!” He led his squad to a fresh collection of lifeless husks.

  The front line of the battle degraded into a chaotic mess of smoke, explosions, screams of the wounded, and death.

  Xavier should’ve been dead already, but the enemy had miscalculated. The force they attacked with was too densely packed and unable to maneuver their superior numbers and firepower into an angle that would multiply their effect. Only a fraction of their drones could bring their weapons to bear at any given time. This allowed the attacking cohorts to achieve fire superiority on the edge of the fight, where it mattered most.

  Cannibalizing ammunition from a fallen comrade, he led whoever he could find forward.

  ***

  “Move, move!” Frost shoved a timid soldier on. “Get in the hole and push forward!”

  Thousands of militia, supported by legion regulars, surged into the bulge carved out by the heavy infantry. The dead earth was polluted with corpses and pink ooze so thick in places that troopers splashed through ankle-deep puddles. The attack had bogged down in the face of overwhelming resistance. It was time for the unarmored troops to help even the odds.

  He dove to the ground when his CAL highlighted heavy enemy weapons fire ahead. Belly-crawling, he found an opening and opened up on the first drone he could find. “Fire teams, concentrate your fire!”

  Everyone hugged the ground like a lover and fought back like men who’d been pushed too far and had their backs against a wall. That was good, because they were and they did. The enemy wasn’t giving them a centimeter. Each meager gain had to be paid for in blood and pain. Nonetheless, they advanced.

  A heavy price was paid, but in the end, they’d cut their way to the edge of the depression, taking the high ground,

  “Lay it on ‘em!”

  A trickle rained down on the tops of the enemy. More and more joined Frost on the edge. The drizzle became a storm that swept away the wicked.

  ***

  Private Geoff slapped his armored hands together. “I’m out, sarge!”

  Xavier nodded at his sole surviving squad-mate. “Me too. Stay low and deploy blades. Be ready to move fast. Once we get going, we ain’t stopping.”

  The drone they used for cover melted away. Geoff looked over his shoulder. They’d better hurry.

  Xavier checked his tactical HUD. The final phase of the plan was stampeding for the gap. The Super Heavies poured into the open space, darting for the front line.

  “Get ready!” Staying low, Xavier brought himself to a knee. I’m tired of hiding. Let’s take this fight to them.

  Troops scurried away before the charge, giving the giant metallic humans a clear path to exploit. The herd paused at the depression’s edge to release quick volleys of KKC rounds and red laser streaks.

  Mighty leaps carried the Super Heavies onward. Other soldiers ran down along the flanks of the main thrust.

  This was their chance to
break out.

  “Now!” Xavier shot to his feet and sprinted to join the push.

  A thin line of Super Heavies held the rear, laying down covering fire for those rushing forward. He was in no-mans-land, an obstacle course of horrors. Death hurled itself in both directions and he was stuck in the middle. Comrades fell like dominoes. By the sheer grace of God, he made it.

  Private Geoff didn’t.

  The depression in the landscape had turned into the pit of hell itself. It was a titanic struggle between man and alien, a desperate fight for survival.

  His ammunition was spent, but his blood was up and he had long since forgotten to care whether he lived or died.

  A battle-cry slipped through his lips as he charged into the thick of the enemy. Amid his foe, he turned into a whirlwind of steel. The blades extending above his wrists, sharpened to a single molecule, glided through the air with deadly grace. He removed arms, opened bellies, and did more damage than he had a right to.

  Sergeant Luke Xavier had become a destroyer, propelled by his human rage to do the impossible. He represented the very reason machine had yet to surpass man on the field of battle.

  He danced up the enemy line, bringing pure fury with him.

  ***

  “I’m hit!”

  Frost jerked his head toward Wyatt. He didn’t even know she was nearby. The operation was a mess, and unit organization had long since evaporated. She must’ve made staying close to him a priority. “Where?”

  “My leg.”

  Pink fragments from a Keeper grenade had burned into her calf. She’d live, if she could move fast enough. The mass of humanity was gaining momentum; the end of the enemy columns had to be close.

  He yanked her to her feet, throwing her arm across his shoulders. “Awwwggg!” she cried out.

  “Shut up, lieutenant!”

  They hobbled forward, welding their MRGs with one hand. It was awkward, and streams of soldiers passed them. They were falling behind.

  Frost stopped abruptly to lift and secure her on his shoulders. “Hold on!”