Trent said, “I hear you, Lieutenant. I guess they wanted to maximize their space for cargo.”
“What are you complaining about, Simms? This place is twice the size of the sardine can where they put you and me,” said the feisty and attractive Lt. Jane Thomas, the unit’s solo recruit from the Air Force. The olive skinned brunette took great pleasure in busting Simms’ balls. Being the only girl in a Texas ranch family of five children tended to make a woman grow up tough. Trent always found it odd that she didn’t have an accent.
Captain Jones, never one for small talk, simply sat down at the small round table in the corner. Simms and Thomas joined her, taking the last of the seats.
Trent walked over to his bag and dug around for a few moments before pulling out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label and four crystal rocks glasses.
“We are going to be stuck together for a long time in a small space. I thought it would be a nice idea to start our little adventure in a proper manner,” Trent said as he handed out glasses and filled them. “I believe, Captain, that Black Label is your favorite.”
Befuddled, she said, “Yes, thank you. How did you know, sir?”
“I have my sources.”
Simms asked, “Any ice, sir?”
“Oh, for Christ’s sake, man up and drink it straight Simms,” Thomas said.
Jones squirmed uncomfortably in her chair. The casual demeanor of her American counterparts conflicted with her British discipline.
“Sir, when will we receive the mission briefing? I’m sure I speak for everyone when I say that we’re anxious to know our mission objectives.”
“In a couple days, Captain. I want us to be a way down the road before we release that information. It won’t be long. Right now, the Commerce is finishing final checks on the anti-mat drive, deflector array, and inertia dampeners. Then we’ll start accelerating to the Alpha Gate.”
Simms commented, “The fun begins. I honestly can’t wait to get out there. No humans have gone as far as we’re about to.”
“Soon enough, but I can tell you that we’re going to be confined for a while. People are going to start getting on each other’s nerves.”
“Maintaining discipline will be key.” Jones refilled her glass.
“Agreed, but I also want them to have fun. The cargo hold has been converted into a training and rec area. We’ll train every day, but I want folks to relax and have some fun after that.”
Thomas said, “I’ve heard some in the unit ask if it is allowed for them to...date members of the Commerce’s crew. If you approve, I a....”
Simms butted in, “That’s one way to let everyone blow off some steam. These civilian vessels have a far better male to female ratio.”
The annoyed look Thomas shot at Simms was quickly replaced with shock and amusement when Jones blurted out, “You have my vote. There are a couple of bloody hot men on this ship.”
Three sets of eyes stared at her. She turned bright red and sat up tall. For her, this represented a serious breach of protocol. For Trent, it humanized the stuffy Brit, bringing a smile to his face. He hadn’t expected her to be interested in men.
“I...I’m sorry, sir. I don’t usually drink. I think you can guess why, I tend to run off at the mouth. It won’t happen again.”
“No harm, Captain, no foul. I’ll talk with Captain Chen. After all, as one of my favorite generals once said, “A soldier who won’t fuck won’t fight” Now drink up. I find this,” Trent lifted his glass, “helps get the ideas flowing. Someone refill Jones. I’m really interested in what she has to say.”
Jones asked, “Who said that, sir?”
“Patton, and that won’t be the last time I channel him.”
***
In the time leading up to the surprise encounter with the Kitright, physicists discovered stable wormholes could be opened by bombarding points of space containing extremely dense levels of dark matter with intense particle beams.
These “gates” in turn allowed spacecraft to pass through them, instantaneously travelling to any point in the universe. Or more exactly, any other point in the universe that possessed a high enough density of dark matter.
Frustratingly, travel between gates, and everywhere else, was held hostage by the law of relativity, shackling space flight to a tedious .999 speed of light. It took the Commerce a year in Earth time to accelerate and decelerate to the Alpha Gate. For the crew, only six weeks passed.
Any gate could be targeted from any other gate by varying the intensity of the particle beam, as well as the speed and angle of the spacecraft’s entry through the starting gate. However, in order to make the necessary calculations for specific point to point travel, the exact location of the target gate must be known. Adjusting any one of the variables by the smallest of margins changed the re-entry point.
While in theory, the gates could be used to travel outside the Milky Way Galaxy, limits to the power of existing particle beams restricted their range to the home galaxy.
A re-entry gate could still be used without its specific coordinates. A trip under those circumstances was a complete crapshoot. A ship taking a blind jump through a gate might find itself next to a beautiful Earth like planet or, and far more likely, pulled into the heart of a black hole the second it came through.
Needless to say, the job of making blind jumps to map gates to target from Alpha Prime fell to unmanned probes.
The Commerce’s jump through the gate seemed anti-climactic. Trent watched with great anticipation on the bridge, the only area with a view port. The event started with great drama as the navigation officer checked and rechecked the variables with the ship’s quantum computer. The smallest error could put them countless light years off course. When ready, the Commerce fired its particle beam, treating all those who watched to a magnificent light show.
Passing through the gate itself offered no more enjoyment than stepping through a doorway in one’s home. The only thing that let you know something happened were the stars changing.
“That’s it?” Trent complained.
Chen said, “You sound disappointed for just having leaped across a great track of space in a blink of an eye.”
“Well...honestly I thought moving through the gate would be...I thought we would feel or see something.”
“I’ll see what we can do for the next trip. Maybe add some special effects,” Chen said.
Taking that as his cue to retreat from the bridge, Trent thanked the crew for the opportunity to witness the jump and exited.
“Begin check list for acceleration,” Chen ordered as the door slid shut.
Trent slipped into deep thought on the nature of space travel.
Weird, we travel a whole Earth year, which only seemed like a few weeks, to get to a point where we can travel to just about anywhere in a couple of seconds. Have I really been gone a year! Anna is nine now. Nine! A whole year of her childhood without her father, and I barely noticed. God I...
BANG.
“Oooch!”
CLANK.
“Sir, I am so sorry. I shouldn’t try walking and reading the e-paper. I didn’t see you come around the corner.”
“Not entirely your fault, Corporal. I was lost in my own thoughts.” Trent bent down to pick up the scattered documents off the metal floor. As he handed them to the woman, he realized it was Corporal Amanda Roth.
Corporal Roth was a beautiful woman by any measure. Even with her blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and tucked under a cap, he could tell how great it would look set free. Lovely, yet powerful, brown eyes dominated her feminine facial features. Her body was in one word, perfect. Fit, firm, and curvy with the breasts just the right size for her body type.
“You on your way to the mess hall?” he asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. I’ll walk with you.”
Roth kept a rigid demeanor as they strolled along the walkway. Trent, wanting to build a rapport with the enlisted woman, though he couldn’t deny he foun
d her attractive, sought to break the ice.
“What’s your story, Corporal?”
“I imagine you know it almost as well as I do, sir. I reckon you have just about memorized everyone’s personnel file.”
“True, but I’d like to hear it straight from the source. After all, personnel files are just words. People tend to be more complicated than mere words can relay.”
As Trent stopped speaking, they clearly heard playful giggling coming from the room just ahead of them. A few steps later, the door slid open and a male ensign from the ship’s crew stumbled out entangled with Corporal Jane Bitter. The flushed skinned, lip locked couple smelling of sex struggled to get their shirts fully on. They didn’t notice the major or Roth until Trent announced their presence.
“Good morning, Corporal. I trust you’re finding the ship’s hospitality satisfactory.”
Their skin grew even redder, and they snapped to attention to offer hasty salutes.
“Yes...I mean the ensign and I were just review...”
Trent returned the salute.
“It’s all right, Corporal. Carry on to breakfast. Try to be more discrete from now on.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
He glanced at Roth, to see her face bright ruby red.
Ain’t that cute. She’s embarrassed.
“As I was saying, people are complicated. If you had read Bitter’s file, you never would have predicted that would happen.”
“Why’s that, sir?”
“Can’t say, but I’m sure one day you’ll figure it out. So tell me. What’s your story?”
“Oh, really nothing all that interesting, sir. Grew up in a suburb of Phoenix. Dad’s a lawyer, Mom stayed home, and I have a brother. After high school, I was bored so I joined the Army. Got bored again after my discharge, so I was happy for the chance to join up again.”
Having reached the entryway to the mess hall, they stopped. Officers and enlisted didn’t eat together.
“That, Corporal, was a brilliant exercise in brevity. You sort of glossed over the parts where you were the Arizona state champion in the 400 meters. And your special forces training, plus I believe you failed to mention the bronze star you were awarded for that little episode in Mexico. Why if it wasn’t for that whole striking a superior office incident, you would be running one of these squads.”
“Like I said, sir, you know it as well as I do.”
They turned to head in their respective directions, but Trent halted and glanced back.
“Oh, Corporal. Just for the record. You were right to hit that son-of-a-bitch. He had it coming.”
She smiled and walked away.
***
One month later—ship time.
Already suited up in his elf green outfit for the shuttle ride through the system to the target planet, Trent entered the bridge to bid farewell to Captain Chen.
“Captain, I just wanted to thank you for getting us this far.”
“My pleasure, Major,” Chen said as they shook hands. “I just wish we could make sure you got there safe and sound.”
“You and your crew have done more than enough. I wish you didn’t have to start back to the other gate. That’s another ten years you’ll lose.”
“Oh no, I think of it as gaining ten more years. As far as I am concerned, a month from now I’ll jump to Alpha Gate, take command of a proper warship, and really get in this fight.”
“I hope our paths cross again, Captain.”
“As do I. You should be on your way. Every second this ship is here, we risk detection.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
They exchanged salutes one more time before Trent double-timed it to the shuttle.
Chapter 8: The Drop
Cripes, I’ve never been so bored in my life.
The stealthy shuttle flight through the system had turned into the worst exercise in boredom that Trent had ever endured. In the end, there were only so many books he could read, so many mental training drills one could do, and only so many stationary exercises to perform before the troops started to lose it.
The system was full of junk. Ten planets, several dozen moons, and lots and lots of comets, asteroids and planetoids. Plenty of stuff to hide behind while micro-probes peeked around corners to see if the coast was clear for them to hurry to the next hunk of rock.
This hurry, hide, and wait cycle repeated itself over and over during their two month-plus trek.
Finally, their journey neared its end. The shuttle rested on a small meteor, not much larger than the craft itself, hurtling through space and taking them to within 40,000 kilometers of the planet.
“Lieutenant, how much longer till we make our dash?” Trent asked Lt. Thomas, whose pre-Legion service included a tour as an orbital bomber pilot for the U.S. Air Force.
“Five minutes till we get as close as this thing is going to take us. Simms, are the probes showing anything?”
“No. The same as when you asked five minutes ago, and five minutes before that. If I see anything, you’ll be the first to know, trust me.”
“Excuse me for not wanting to get us killed so close to home plate. I haven’t spent two months on this bucket to get killed now. By the way, I doubt I’d be the first woman to get burned after you’ve said trust me.”
“Cool it you two.”
They both responded, “Yes, sir.”
“Crap,” Simms shouted, “I have a contact.”
Trent darted over to the screen.
“What? Where?”
“Right there, sir.” Simms pointed to the North Pole. “I sent probes to the edges of the planet, to let us know if a ship started to approach from the gate side. If he holds course, he’ll block us.”
“This rock takes us right to their main force. Fuck. Thomas.” Trent rushed back to the pilot’s seat. “Can we make it into the atmospheric soup before he gets into line-of-sight?”
“It will be close but…I think we can make it.”
“That will have to be good enough. Hit it! Kick this pig and get us airborne.”
Thomas slapped down hard onto the thruster’s launch button. They burst to life with a roar. The g-forces instantly hit. Legionnaires were caught unprepared, including Trent. The movement knocked him to the floor. Inertial dampeners on smaller craft weren’t as fast as those on the larger ships.
Thomas snapped, “Everyone get buckled in and hold onto your panties! This is going to be bumpy!”
Trent crawled into the co-pilot chair. Once he was fastened in, Thomas yelled orders over the sound of the thrusters. He didn’t hesitate following her commands.
“Rig us for silent running. Shut down everything but the engines, including life support. We’re close enough to the planet to make it. The lower the electric signature the better.”
“Enemy ship will be over the hump in six minutes!” Simms announced.
“Major, listen closely. We are not going to make it. A second before the ship hits the top of the pole, I want you to kill the engines.”
“Kill the engines?”
“If we don’t go in dead, we’re dead.”
Trent bellowed, “Simms, give me a five second count down before they’ll see us. Got it?”
“Sure thing!”
When the time came, Simms began the count down, and Trent’s hand hovered over the kill switch.
“Five…Four…Three…Two...”
He mashed his hand on the switch. Silence washed over the shuttle.
Trent suddenly felt exposed.
Both sensations were short lived.
The shuttle’s hull violently slammed into the planet’s atmosphere at a speed beyond design tolerance. The sound of stressed metal screaming in pain filled the cabin.
“Everyone get your helmets on now,” Trent barked, “I’ll get yours on you. You just keep us alive,” he told Thomas.
She nodded.
He reached under their chairs, pulling out two helmets. He placed his on his head. The nano fabric han
ging around the neck hole automatically attached itself to the body and created an airtight seal. He did the same for Thomas.
“Alert, Alert, Alert,” the ship’s computer declared without emotion. “Current entry course violates safety protocols. Please adjust course.”
Thomas yelled, “Shit! Major, Override the protocols. The computer will take over. We don’t want that.”
“On it.”
Trent attacked the controls and completed the complex override procedure in record time.
“Done.”
“Alert, 25,000 meters to impact,” the computer announced.
Trent looked out at the shuttle’s nose. It glowed bright red. For a moment, he worried it might melt.
“Simms, the ship. What’s the ship doing?” Thomas demanded.
“It’s...holding course. I don’t think they can see us.”
“Should I fire up the atmospheric thrusters?” Trent asked.
Thomas answered with the cold, cool calm of a seasoned pilot totally focused on the task before her.
“No. I want more distance between us. I’m going to glide this pig a way.”
“Alert, 20,000 meter to impact.”
“She’s your baby, Lieutenant. Don’t get us killed. Get as close as you can to their base, but make damn sure that mountain range is between us.”
“That’s what I am waiting for. I want to be below the mountain range before powering up.”
“Alert, 10,000 meters to impact.”
“Okay, when we hit eight, fire her up.”
“Got it.”
“Alert, 9,000 meters to impact.”
His hand hovered over the ignition controls like a rattlesnake waiting to pounce.
“Alert, 8...”
Trent hit the ignition...nothing. He hit it again and again...nothing.
Thomas yelled, “What’s happening? Where’s my power?”
“It won’t start. I think we suffered damage on the hot entry.”
“It you don’t get those engines started Major, we’ve come all this way to make a really expensive stain on the surface.”
The Last Hero Page 5
