“Over here.” Fairbanks shifted his finger to deep space, outside the system. “Is a gate ten light years from the planet. It’s unusual to find a planet with two gates so close together. Either the enemy doesn’t know about the other gate, or they don’t consider it a threat because of its location. This is the gate you will jump through.”
“Excuse me...it’s ten light years away,” Trent said.
Fairbanks chuckled. “Don’t worry, Major. This is a rare situation where relativity comes in handy. You jump through the gate and then make your way to the system. The ten years of travel near the speed of light will only seem like a month. Once you get to the system’s outskirts, your ship will drop you off in a shuttle. From there, you will sneak up on the target using the other planets and asteroid belts as cover. That will take you another two months.
“You’ll drop in and survey the enemy base, gathering all the intel you can about them. After two weeks, you beam all of the data you collect through the sub-space link at the far gate. That is relayed through the gate to Alpha, where your intel will find a waiting armada of warships and legionnaires that we spend the next ten years building.”
“Then what?”
“Then we take two days to quickly review the data before we jump through the gate near the planet with guns blazing. Once that happens, I suggest that you start killing as many of the enemy as you can.”
All the moving parts of the plan made Trent nervous.
“I just hope the enemy will still be there when we arrive, or the base isn’t so well defended that you can’t punch through.”
“War is never without its risks, Major. Now...any more questions?”
“Just one.”
Fairbanks cocked his head to one side, surprised the major didn’t fully appreciate the tone in which he asked if he had any more questions. Trent got the tone all right. He just didn’t care. By the time he got back, if he came back, Fairbanks would be retired again.
“What now?”
“The enemy? What are we calling them?”
“Oh. We’ve taken to calling them Bearcats.”
Chapter 4: The Team
“Y
ou ready to meet the team, sir?”
His face buried in reports, the sound of the feminine, but husky British accented voice pulled Trent’s attention from the sheets of e-paper. Looking up from the files, he studied the burly woman standing before him.
Captain Nina Jones was a man of a woman. A seasoned veteran of the British Army, she stood a few centimeters shy of two meters tall and had a cute face, if not for the bad teeth. Trent didn’t understand how in the late 22nd century, the British hadn’t adopted better dental care techniques.
“Yes, Captain. I’ve been looking forward to it for a while. What do they look like to you?”
“Well, sir, I would say the Bearcats are going to remember the day they met us, but all those we meet will be dead. So it’s a moot point.”
“That’s the attitude. I take it everyone is seated in the meeting room.”
Jones nodded.
“Then let’s get to it.”
The fifty men and woman making up the lead element of the Earth Legion waited in a briefing room with stadium seating in one of the newly reopened sections of the Pentagon.
From outside the room, Trent could hear laughter and loud conversations. Buried deep within each voice, he heard suppressed fear at the coming mission. This didn’t concern him. Soldiers who experience the proper amount of fear were sharper than some nut case who would get his unit killed by doing something stupid, in an effort to show everyone how brave they were.
Trent also took heart in the numerous conversations; the unit was bonding. He felt saddened that the easygoing camaraderie would end the second he stepped into the room.
Jones looked annoyed at the delay outside the door, but he paid no attention.
After a few more seconds spent eavesdropping, he quickly opened the door and briskly walked toward the podium. The noise in the room shut off without a single lingering sound. Trent reached the podium and set his tablet down before gripping each side. Slowly looking side to side, he took stock of the men and woman he would lead, not so much into battle, but into the unknown.
They represented a diverse sampling of humanity. Before him were former soldiers in the U.S., Russian, British, German, Colombian, Japanese, Nigerian, Israeli, and Australian militaries. But here they sat, legionnaires of Earth. Willing to fight and die for the same cause against a common enemy.
Guess we really aren’t all that different after all.
A few of the faces Trent recognized. Nine survivors from the South Africa mission signed up. He couldn’t have been happier to have them aboard and wished more had answered the call but didn’t blame them for standing down.
“Good morning,” he began. “As you’ve probably guessed I’m Major Trent Maxwell. I’m your commanding officer. I promise to be brief so we can get to the real work. We have a lot to do and very little time to do it.” Trent gestured to his left. “This is your XO, Captain Nina Jones. I must say, looking out at all of your faces...this has to be the most eclectic group of sons-of-bitches ever assembled for war.”
Grins formed across many of the faces. Some looked around at their comrades in arms.
“I don’t have to tell you how special this unit is. Both for the fighting skill we’ve all shown in the past and for what we represent in the history of our species. This distinction, as well as what’s at stake means failure is not an option. We are fighting for our species’ right to exist.”
The grins disappeared, replaced by looks of sheer determination.
“In all of the military units where we once served, medals and awards of varying types were given to soldiers who went above and beyond the call of duty. Here in the Legion, there will be no such medals, only mission ribbons, unique to each operation.
“The reason for this is that’s assumed nothing in this war is above and beyond the call of duty. Our call is to fight to prevent our people’s extinction. Our duty is to do whatever is necessary to fulfill our call. If that means you must sacrifice yourself to accomplish a mission, then that’s what is expected of you. If victory demands that I sacrifice this entire unit, including myself, then I will.
“Make no mistake. I don’t hold your lives cheap, nor will I ever be careless with them. I just want you to understand the full gravity of the situation before us.
“Before we dismiss for our squad level weapons briefing, I want you all to see something, information that hasn’t been released to the general public regarding the attack on New Earth. After you see it, you will truly appreciate my words.”
The holo display on the stage activated for the assembled warriors. Despite their experience with combat and death, the images left fresh scars.
Once the horrors ended, Trent retook the podium.
“Now you understand. When things get tough, and I promise you that they will. When you think you can’t continue on, and I promise that time will come. I want you to think of someone you care about back here on Earth. Think about what will become of them if these things, these beasts get past us. Cause the only way they are getting here is through me. As long as my lungs draw breath, I will fight,” He slammed his fist down. “Dismissed.”
***
Trent stood to the side of the podium watching the group disperse. He noticed several legionnaires walking toward him. He eagerly hopped off the front of the stage to greet the one closest with a firm salute followed by a big smile and hearty handshake. The man’s tanned skin brimmed with muscles and confidence.
“Sergeant Henderson, damn glad you were crazy enough to sign up for this little trip of ours.” Trent surveyed the group of former Ranger buddies forming a semi-circle around him. “Damn glad to see all of you.”
“Well sir, I kinda felt like I owed you one,” said an average height legionnaire, carrying a couple extra pounds brought on by civilian life.
“Corporal
Stan Gabriel, how’s the thigh?”
“Fine, sir. Thanks again for pulling my ass off that South African beach.”
“Hell, Corporal. I should be the one saying thanks. If it wasn’t for you, I might never have become famous. Your bullet to the ass turned out to be a million credit injury...for me.” Trent joked in reference to his personal rescue of Gabriel while under intense enemy fire.
Chuckles echoed all around the room.
“I seriously doubt they would have let you get off that easily, sir,” Henderson said. “With the way you executed our mission in South Africa, those Army press corps jokers would’ve found another reason to pin a shiny Medal of Honor on you.”
“The way we executed the mission, Sergeant, but I’m afraid we’ll all look back upon that one as a vacation. This is a fight that will lead us all directly to the gates of hell.”
Henderson said, “Don’t sweat it, Major. Me and the guys here will happily follow you there, storm the gates, and bitch slap Satan just for kicks.”
Laughing Trent replied, “That just might turn out to be necessary, Sergeant. It just might.”
“I just hope the food on this trip is better than our old MREs.” Gabriel rubbed his stomach. “I’ve worked too hard on this energy reserve to let it go to waste.”
Chapter 5: Preparations
Many of the assembled legionnaires failed to hide their apprehension at receiving nano injections. The intimidating injection table sported four sets of needles to insert their cargo directly into the calf, upper thigh, midsection, and neck, and did nothing to calm their nerves.
Medical grade nanotechnology had been around for well over a century, curing countless diseases. Numerous military research efforts over the decades strove to develop nanotechnology capable of improving physical abilities, but none had achieved success. A few did result in well-publicized spectacular failures. One involved an entire platoon of Chinese soldiers melting, when malfunctioning nanos disassembled their bodies on the cellular level.
Assurances from the eggheads who did the weapons briefing that all the bugs were finally worked out did little to ease fears. But the benefits seemed worth the risk.
If the nanos scavenged from a mothballed phantom weapons project performed as advertised, each legionnaire would see remarkable increases in strength, reflexes, speed, agility, endurance, and enhanced senses. The nanos also promised to expand the range of breathable atmospheres, temperature tolerances, and repair minor wounds on the fly.
Victory likely wouldn’t be possible without the unnatural advantages. War in space required a new breed of soldier.
In an attempt to lead by example, Trent volunteered to go first.
“Lie down on the table,” the cold lab technician commanded.
Once fully integrated, Trent’s body would not be able to function without the nanos. Nor could the nanos, programed specifically for him, survive outside his body.
Despite the one-way ticket and wearing only boxer-briefs, Trent betrayed no emotion as he obeyed the technician’s callous order.
“Don’t move once the needles break your skin. It will take them several second to finish delivery. It’s important that you not move. It will be painful, but it won’t last too long. Ok?”
Trent nodded.
“Good. Injections beginning in three, two, one...they’re inserting now.”
The needles breaking the skin only hurt for a moment. The unwelcome surge of mass into the body was what caused the real pain. Knowing he could not cry out, for that reaction would validate the worry of the waiting group and forever damage his standing with the unit, Trent closed his eyes tight and gritted his teeth together to internalize the agony.
Just when he felt as if he couldn’t take it any longer, the pain stopped.
“Major, you’re done. I strongly suggest you go back to your quarters and sleep. It will help the nanos integrate themselves. Plus the process is...draining.”
Trent shook his head, trying to dislodge a huge cobweb from his mind.
“I don’t think sleeping will be a problem.”
“The orderly will assist you to your room. Sweet dreams,” the technician said with a sinister grin.
Asshole.
***
The dreams were anything but sweet.
Trent’s sub-conscience did backflips as it tried to resolve the unnatural process taking place within his body.
Visions of combat, some from his own past, but most from the many history books he had consumed throughout his life, mixed in with scenes of his wife and grown daughter mourning his death years in the future. None of it made sense as he found himself unable to wake or exercise control over the images.
Finely it ended when his eyes shot open with a new sense of strength.
What time is it? Holy crap! I’ve been asleep for twelve hours! I’m so hungry. I don’t think I’ve ever been this hungry. Thank God I didn’t miss dinner.
Trent intended to ease out of the bed. Instead, he practically jumped as if while he slept someone had replaced his family car of a body with a high performance sports model. When he tapped the accelerator on this new model, he found it had a bit more power than expected.
What the hell?
He headed straight for the mirror. His fear of having been turned into something totally different quickly evaporated when he saw the same thirty-something man looking back at him.
Upon further examination, it occurred to him that the man staring back wasn’t thirty-something, more like mid to late twenties. Additionally, Trent noticed that his right knee, once the victim of an old high school soccer injury, didn’t ache.
He quickly darted his eyes and hands to various parts of his body to confirm what he suspected. Old scars, from war and a childhood spent on an Iowa farm, were all gone, replaced with perfect skin.
A smile from the wonder and excitement of all the possibilities that lay before him spread along his face.
I can’t wait to see what you can do. His stomach grumbled. First, I have to eat.
***
Trent spent the next six weeks pushing himself and his unit to the limit, just so everyone would understand their new capabilities.
One day, they would find themselves jogging in full gear through the Australian outback only to discover their reward for survival entailed a quick trip to Europa, an ice covered moon of Jupiter, to repeat the process before heading off to Mars for mountain war games.
They only took what they could carry and lived off what their suit’s nutrient pack and water recycling unit provided. In a move that didn’t earn him many friends, Trent ordered that while on such excursions on Earth, the unit would remain sealed in their suits at all times.
Fortunately, everyone discovered the nanos in their solid waste broke it down into its basic elements that were reabsorbed by the body. Learning one’s body was in essence, eating its own shit, didn’t sit well.
Trent hoped this training program would prove effective, but who knew? These were a new class of warriors for an equally new class of warfare. He prayed the ad-hoc training regimen in some of the most extreme environments found in the Sol System would help them survive whatever lay ahead.
If nothing else, the shared hardships proved successful in getting the individual members of the team to bond together into a single unit.
***
By the end of the around the system training blitz, the group of fifty legionnaires was thoroughly beaten down. Having played the role of tyrant so well, Trent needed to endear himself to the unit by playing their savior.
With one week until launch day, Trent walked into General Fairbanks’ office and knocked on the doorframe.
Fairbanks swirled his leather chair away from the window he had been staring through.
“Com’on in, Major, and have a seat. I was just looking out across the central grounds here. I remember when I was your age, how much energy this place once had. It feels like a haunted house now.”
“I imagine you’ll h
ave her humming again by the time we get back.”
“You better believe it. I just wish I was going to live to see this one through. But this is a new kind of war, one that will probably take centuries to play out. You could make it, Major. Between the nanos doubling your life span, and the effects of near light speed travel, you might live to see how this thing ends.”
“Sounds more like a curse than a privilege.”
Fairbanks chewed on Trent’s comment for a few seconds. He stood and walked around to the front of his desk, sitting on the corner.
“You have a point, Major. What can I do you for?”
“Well, sir, as you know, we’re six days away from launch as of tomorrow. Currently the schedule calls for seventy-two hours of leave before we depart. I have a unit meeting in ten minutes, and I would like to announce that leave starts immediately.”
“I see. Don’t you think you need that extra time to prepare?”
“I view that extra leave time as preparing...sir.”
“How so, Major?”
“For the last six weeks, I’ve beat the shit out of them on every piece of terrain I could find. For training purposes, this system is mostly spent given our time remaining. Our time on Earth still has mission value, though.”
Fairbanks’ face remained passive as he listened intently without giving away his feelings.
“We have no idea what the hell we’re marching into. We’re dropping in without the possibility of support. High moral is going to be critical. Plus...I want to make sure that no one forgets what they’re fighting for. I believe some extra time enjoying the luxuries of home and spending time with loved ones is the best use of our time.”
“Interesting point, Major—”
“Sir, we’re going to have almost ten weeks on the ship to run through everything a hundred times and...”
Fairbanks held his palm out.
“You can stop selling, Major. You and your men can have the extra time. God knows you all deserve it.”
Fearful of staying long enough for the general to change his mind, Trent stood and saluted. “Thank you, sir.” He pivoted to walk out the door.
The Last Hero Page 3
