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

by Nathaniel Danes

  “Lieutenant, I want you to run ahead and get a visual on our destination. Everything says it’s clear, but I’d feel better if we had eyeballs on it ourselves.”

  “I’m on it, sir!”

  “I can always count on you, Wyatt. You’re my girl.”

  She glowed inside her helmet.

  ***

  Wills looked up from his screen. “The ship is descending again over India.”

  “I don’t like it.” Walker paced, rubbing her neck. “They’ve cleared out almost all of Asia. Yet it’s been unloading everything it’s produced for weeks there. Why?” She paused. “They’re preparing for something, pre-positioning forces, stockpiling for when the relief force arrives, just like us. But what’s it so afraid of? What does it know that we don’t?” She kicked the base of the holo table. “Damn it! This would be a lot easier if Maxwell wasn’t running on radio silence.”

  He shrugged. “It’s like we’re stuck in the middle and the only ones not in the know.”

  “Yeah and I’m not used to not being in the know. It sucks.”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Homecoming

  DeWalt manipulated the ship icons floating in the holo cloak. Eight battleships, fifteen cruisers, and four battlecarriers comprised the the hope of Earth. It didn’t seem like enough, but it was more than the colonies had wanted to part with, which was nothing. The captains of the Home Guard ships were the key. They refused to abandon Earth and lobbied the admiralty to support the relief effort despite objections from the civilian governments.

  He arranged the fleet in four clusters of one battlecarrier, two battleships, and four cruisers each with one group having three. Taking hold of the mini task forces, he randomly stacked them far apart on the same axis like an irregular stone wall.

  “Com, open a channel with the captains.” DeWalt paced, hands behind him.

  “Open, sir.”

  “You’ve received our formation for the battle to come. We have one advantage in this fight. We are confronted by a single ship. In a straight-up fight, I have no illusion of victory. But defeating the Keeper vessel isn’t the fleet’s goal. Our job is to get General Maxwell and the Pills onto the surface of the planet with adequate forces to support his mission.

  “Our enemy is powerful, but it’s only one ship, with a limited rate of fire and range. We will all enter their weapons range at the same time, giving it more targets than it can destroy while we’re in the kill zone. We’ll also be spread far enough apart that it will have to maneuver to engage each group individually.”

  An icon flashed, Acting-Captain Aleah Essa of the Finland requested permission to speak. He approved it with a thought-click.

  “Admiral, won’t the enemy know which group has the package? Isn’t it able to sense it through a form of quantum entanglement?”

  DeWalt stepped out of the cloak and gestured for Trent to answer. “Captain, you are correct that the enemy knows what we have brought into the system, but while the Pills are in the container, it won’t be able to get a fix on their exact location.”

  “Thank you, general.” DeWalt disappeared inside the cloak. “Needless to say, it is the duty of each battleship and cruiser to keep themselves between their battlecarrier and the enemy. Getting our forces deployed to the surface is our only goal.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “Now here is what I want the fighters to do.”

  ***

  It’s odd the night before you know you’re going into a bloody battle. People react to it in many different ways. Some pretend it’s just another day, but every now and then you can catch a glimpse of their worry. Others attempt to jam as much joy into every minute, while some spend their final hours before battle in the chapel.

  Preparing one’s self for death is a highly personal affair.

  Trent wanted to use his final moments of peace on the most important things in his life, friends and family.

  They’d come to his stateroom, bearing the finest foods and booze they could scrounge up. Tonight was not the night to worry about the day after tomorrow.

  The only additions to the group were lieutenants O’Shea and West. Allowing them to attend guaranteed Susan and Jones’ participation. It made him happy to see Susan hanging on the young man’s arm, laughing at a joke Gabriel told. It was also a relief to see Jones connecting with someone.

  He observed them all from a corner, forgetting the looming fight for precious seconds.

  Amanda flopped down in the chair next to him. Her cheeks were flushed from too much wine, an indulgence she could afford as the nanos would have her combat-ready when needed. “You’re quiet tonight.” She slapped his knee.

  “Just enjoying seeing everyone happy.” He sipped his Johnnie Walker Black, the official drink of their gatherings. “Even Simms is smiling and laughing. I haven’t seen him do that in a while.”

  She turned to see Simms chatting it up with Jones and her boyfriend. “It is, isn’t it? Hard to believe what’s coming. One minute we’re all here in ignorant bliss, the next we’re fighting for our lives.”

  “We live our lives on a razor’s edge.” He sighed, “Perhaps for too long.”

  Susan came over and shook his shoulder. “Great Gramps, why are you being anti-social?”

  “Just thinkin’ a lot.”

  “Oh, that’s a dangerous hobby on nights like these.” She took a big gulp of scotch. “Thinking is the last thing I want to do right now.”

  He smirked. “I can see that.”

  “Speech!” Gabriel raised his glass, looking right at him.

  “Not tonight.” Trent waved him off.

  “You’re not getting off that easily,” Susan tugged on his arm. “You gotta give us something.” A frown spoiled her joyful face. “You know, in case.”

  Pressing his lips together, he nodded reluctantly and rose. Taking in a deep breath, he looked down at Amanda, locking eyes with her. Then he looked at Susan and everyone else. Slamming his lids shut, he choked back tears that were fighting to get out. The thought of losing any one of them was unbearable, but he knew the odds of losing none were next to zero.

  “Most of us in this room have been fighting this war for a century. Though it’s only been a few years in relative time by our perception, my heart feels every one of those days we missed. It’s been weighed down by loss and regret.

  “Tomorrow has been a long time coming. We’ll finally strike a decisive blow against our real enemy.” He locked gazes with his audience. “I should be rejoicing at the prospect, but on the eve of what may very well be my final battle, my heart is filled not with rage, but with … love. Love for my people, my planet, the legion—my daughter, but most of all, you.

  “While I’ve lost much in the last hundred years, I’ve also gained much. For that, I am thankful. I can imagine no others I’d rather face tomorrow with. You are my brothers, my sisters, and … so much more.” He looked Amanda and Susan in the eyes, saw silent tears streaking their cheeks.

  “You’ve all been through enough hell to know better than to listen to the ignorant bravado of an old warhorse before a battle. You know far too well what awaits us on the field. It isn’t glory, and when it’s over, it won’t feel like victory to those fortunate enough to survive. But we will go into the breach one more time, because that is our duty and because the person next to you is going in, too.”

  He raised his drink. Amanda stood at his side, gripping his hand tight. “Join me in a toast. To those who have sacrificed so much to get us here today and to those who will sacrifice tomorrow, we drink to you. Absent friends!”

  The chorus came back to him. “Absent friends!” They kicked back their drinks and stood quietly for a minute before continuing the evening on a more somber tone.

  After good-byes were said, Trent and Amanda didn’t talk. Simple words held no meaning for them. They made sweet love like it was the last time and held each other until sleep claimed them.

  ***

  “Launch all fighters and drone
s.” DeWalt studied the developing situation inside his holo cloak. The armada advanced at high velocity on the silver pyramid standing between them and Earth.

  One hundred twenty Avengers and one hundred sixty drones streamed forth from the battlecarriers and closed, charging in four waves.

  Commander Linda King’s voice pierced the cloak. “First wave in position, sir.”

  “Fire first salvo!”

  Thirty missiles lunged forward. A microsecond before entering point defense range, they detonated. Hot flares of energy burst into existence.

  “All ships, accelerate as planned!” DeWalt sucked in a deep breath. “Second wave, fire!”

  Radiation flooded no-man’s-land. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe it would blind the enemy and allow his force to complete its mission unmolested. He’d calculated the tactic would degrade their tracking somewhat, delaying their response to his acceleration enough to steal a shot from them. It might also affect targeting enough to cause a miss. Each lost opportunity for a shot, each miss meant an entire ship survived.

  “Third wave, fire! Navigation, report!”

  “Fleet is on track to slingshot around Earth on pre-assigned trajectories.”

  “Prepare to launch shuttles.” They’re gonna have to break like hell to avoid burning up in the atmosphere. He looked to see who the Keeper maneuvered to intercept. Group Delta. Thank God it’s not us. Guilt struck him but he tossed it aside. Plenty of time for that later, if there is a later. “All battlecarriers, launch shuttles! Last salvo away!”

  White balls of light formed on the pyramid’s points. A nuclear inferno erupted in front of the Keeper. Streaks of lightning jumped to its center and leapt out. The strike zipped through the center of Delta group, missing the Iceland by half a kilometer.

  The bridge cheered and DeWalt allowed himself a smile.

  “New enemy contacts!” the sensor officer said.

  DeWalt looked toward the giant, beautiful blue marble that was Earth and saw dozens, then hundreds of silver fighters swarm out from behind it.

  Commander King called, “Pride of Man is down!”

  His eyes shot to the battlecarrier. It had been cut in half by a perfect shot. “Did they get their shuttles off?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All fighters, cover the shuttles!” He exited the cloak. “Helm, report.”

  “We’re on course to loop around Venus and rendezvous with the shuttles to make another drop.”

  “Sir,” King grabbed his attention, “Human Endeavor had to change course to avoid the worst of the enemy fighters. She’ll miss Venus and have to turn around under her own power. She’ll be late to the pickup.”

  “Understood.” He returned to the cloak. “Where are our interceptors? Send the coordinates for General Maxwell’s shuttle. He has the Pills. Protect that craft at all costs.”

  ***

  Susan tightened her jaw. It was go time. “All right, Dark Knights, you heard the man. Let’s get mean and let’s get fast. Cover those shuttles like your mother’s on one.” Or your great-grandfather, she thought.

  A shuttle flashed in her mind’s eye. “Priority mission objective,” Valkyrie said. “This craft is carrying the package. It must survive entry and land safely.”

  Great Gramps is on that one.

  “Dark Knight one to CAC, taking defensive positions around the package. We’ll see it through.”

  “Acknowledged, Dark Knights. It’s all yours. Good hunting.”

  “Listen up, Dark Knights. New mission. We are escorting that shuttle all the way to the dirt. It’s great if we survive, but that one is more important than all of us. Understood? DK four and five, take the flanks. DK three, under their belly. Lieutenant West, you’re with me up high. Our drones will take point. Plow the road, Dark Knights!”

  The flock of boxy shuttles were firing their engines at full blast, asses facing Earth, struggling to slow down before impacting the upper atmosphere. Susan’s squadron did the same to match the slower crafts’ speed as the rest of her comrades barreled toward the enemy swarm. In all, eleven hundred silver flying wings slammed into the vanguard of Avengers.

  As at Kitright Prime, the enemy’s dogfighting skills proved wanting. Their count dropped rapidly, but not fast enough, as the sheer weight of the enemy’s numbers began to tell. A group of a hundred broke off from the furball and charged the shuttle formation.

  The slow, vulnerable shuttles were arranged in a combat box, much like World War II Flying Fortresses, providing interlocking fields of fire for their weapons. The square opened up with automatic rail guns and rockets, filling the sky with a wall of death.

  Machines don’t fear death, however. They laid themselves out in a line, three deep. The first two lines in the formation absorbed the destruction. Twenty-one wolves charged toward the sheep, laying waste to the first two dozen shuttles to kiss mother Earth’s air.

  Fear and rage shot through Susan, but were put aside to be replaced with deliberate control. “Engage!”

  Punching the throttle, she and West locked onto the lead formation of three fighters on a beeline for the package. She wasn’t going to take any chance. Too much was at stake.

  “Valkyrie, command override for DK two. Fire our missiles for target intercept.”

  “Order confirmed. Launching.”

  Their nuclear warheads zoomed forward, unleashing their fury ahead of the fighters. Two couldn’t help but fly directly into the fireballs. The third banked hard left and brushed the edge. That was enough to send it into a spiral downward. It might recover but was out of the picture for now.

  Trent’s shuttle glowed hot with friction. She locked onto another target and unloaded a thousand KKC rounds at max range. A handful hit home, shattering it to pieces.

  “Easy, DK one,” West said. “You’re going to be out of expendable ordnance soon if you keep this up.”

  “Don’t you get it, West? Everything is expendable except the package. That includes us.”

  Breaking hard left, she tracked a fighter trying to circle to the rear. She wasn’t gaining fast enough. “Valkyrie, push acceleration to a hundred and ten percent!”

  “That is...”

  “Command override!”

  “Confirmed.”

  She closed and raked its hull with her laser. The dead husk was taken by the gravity well and pulled down.

  Looping around, she followed the shuttles into the atmosphere. Dark Knights three and four were gone. The package was en route.

  Above them, the battle continued. There were too many of them, though. The Avengers were winning five to one, but that just wasn’t good enough. Another fifty escaped the melee and plunged into the soup.

  “Rear guard!” she called on the squadron channel. The last of the the Dark Knights flipped, falling backwards. “Nukes if you got ‘em. Valkyrie, command override, coordinate double K strike.”

  “Confirmed.”

  “Now, damn it!”

  Their noses spat a lethal dose of depleted uranium. Several silver wings broke apart from the stress of impacts and entry. A nuclear blast filled the sky. Initially it only took out a lone fighter, but its shockwave spread across the thin air and flipped another four enemy craft, sending them into tumbles.

  The remaining opponents split into three groups, arching wide to outflank them and diving lower to come from underneath. She broke right for a group of five, West and DK four headed left for a group of nine, and the last three drones charged the three, undercutting them.

  The flanking attempt was a mistake. They should’ve pressed the attack forward, overwhelming the last defenders. These weren’t aces, though, and she used their strategy against them. Moving onto their six, she hammered the fighters with her laser. Again and again she scored kills till no one was left.

  “I’m hit!” West called out. Susan’s heart twisted. “Mayday, mayday! I’ve lost power and have enemies on my six.”

  She pointed her nose in his direction and throttled her engine
to one hundred and fifteen percent. There was a one in five chance it would overload, killing her at any moment. She didn’t care; she had to get to West.

  He didn’t have power, but he flew his Avenger like a glider, zigging and zagging in random patterns. It confused the enemy, but that wouldn’t last. He was dead without support. More so if he ejected, making him an easier target.

  “I’m coming!”

  “Alert!” Valkyrie screamed in her head. “Enemy craft closing on primary objective!”

  “Fuck!”

  At the speed of thought, she ran the calculations. She could save either West or the shuttle carrying the package and her Great Gramps, plus forty-nine others, but not both. The awesome gravity of the choice crushed her heart and dragged her soul into her boot.

  Which one to save? It wasn’t really a choice. She loved West and had pictured herself marrying him, having his children, and living happily ever after. But far more was at play here. Her entire family was on Earth or that damn shuttle, not to mention the one item in the entire Milky Way that could defeat the Keepers.

  The math was easy. It didn’t matter to her heart.

  West continued to call out for aid. She commanded Valkyrie to block his transmission as she turned her Avenger toward the primary objective. She imagined the shock and horror on his face once he realized she’d abandoned him to his death. She told herself he’d understand, though she wasn’t totally sure she did,

  Duty! The chant rang hollow as she blew the pursuing enemy fighter into pieces, clearing the way for the package to land.

  Sobbing, tears flowing uncontrollably, she opened a private channel with West. “I love you and I’m sorry.”

  His Avenger was destroyed a second later. She never got a response.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Planetside

  The violent shuttle ride gave Trent flashbacks of their drop onto Big Red. Their mission had almost ended then and there, but Thomas, somehow, got them down.

  Thomas, how many more will we lose in the next forty-eight hours?

  A jolt rocked the passengers from side to side and then they dropped rapidly, free falling. Save for a few grunts from being thrown against their harnesses, the cabin was quiet. These were hardened veterans all, not the types to whine about a rough ride.