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

by Nathaniel Danes

  “Hurrah, hurrah, hurrah!” The bridge crew pumped their fists.

  “Helm, slingshot us around the sun. Fast attack formation. Take us right down their throats.”

  “Aye, aye, admiral.”

  The three giants picked up speed. Excessive gees bled through the inertia dampeners, pushing Umair into his chair. Genghis Khan led the charge while Napoleon and Alexander the Great trailed on her flanks.

  The pressure lessened against his chest as the triangle formation finished its circumference of the sun. Like bullets, the dreadnoughts aimed themselves at the enemy.

  “How long till they’ll be able to see us?”

  Captain Gore stroked his black beard. “The sun at our backs will cloud our approach for a ways, but their sensors will detect us well before we reach weapons range. Our stealth systems are designed specifically to evade Fleet tech but are only really effective at long range.”

  “As is expected, captain. The cloak has worked marvelously. Without it, we would’ve been found long ago. Now we have surprise on our side.”

  ***

  The task force approached P-1425X in standard formation. The cruisers Jutland and Siege of Tokyo ran point with the battleship Caribbean Union between them and back. Earth’s Fist was in the middle with the United States and Israel standing guard on her poles. Bull Run, China Sea, and Cannae formed a large triangle to protect the extreme flanks and rear.

  “Drop to commence in fifteen minutes,” Commander King announced. “Shuttles reporting loaded and ready. Escort squadrons in position.”

  “Excellent, commander.” DeWalt crossed his arms. “I wish we had a full complement of pilots. I hate leaving perfectly good Avengers in the hanger.”

  “It’s just three craft, sir. We should be fine without them.”

  He chuckled. “Commander, I’ve been in more than one fight where I would’ve given my right arm for three more fighters.”

  “As have I.” She shrugged. “But we’ve searched the system high and low and haven’t found a thing. We might actually get luc...”

  “Captain!” The sensor officer whipped around. “Contacts! Three big ones on an intercept course.”

  DeWalt jumped to the center of the bridge. “Holo activate.” A 3D depiction of the battle space flashed into existence around him. The whites of his eyes grew large. “Hail them. What are those things?”

  “Configuration doesn’t match anything in the database,” King’s voice penetrated the cloak. “But...they look like Fleet, though nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

  “Why the hell didn’t we see them before? Never mind, it’s not important now. Com, any reply to our hail?”

  “No, sir. They’re running silent.”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think they’d turn out to be friendlies.” He focused on the attacking craft. What the hell are they doing? They’re coming at us fast and aren’t slowing down. Christ! He feverishly worked the display with his fingers, selecting ships and plotting simulated trajectories. “All ships, full acceleration and come about to course six-two-six. We’re looping around the planet.”

  “Aye, aye, sir. Orders sent and confirmed.”

  “It’s a Goddamn flyby. The size of those ships, their lasers have to be far bigger than anything we have. They want to cripple us in one pass and come around for the kill. They’ll only get one shot off if I have anything to say about it. Then it’ll be my turn.”

  ***

  “Enemy ships taking evasive maneuvers!”

  Umair flipped his wrist. “It was too much to hope that they’d simply do what we wanted. Match course to intercept. Weapons, coordinate our fire with the Alexander and Napoleon. Target the lead battleship. I want it dead in the water after our pass.”

  “It won’t even get a shot off, sir.”

  He studied the flow of data on the holo display. “Helm, prepare to ignite reverse thrusters. We’re coming in too hot for our lasers to do any damage. Forty-five seconds to contact.”

  Umair sucked in a breath to fill his hungry lungs. His heart beat like a rabbit. It’d been a decade since his last combat and that had been against Bearcats. He believed in his mission, but he still couldn’t shake that heavy feeling in his gut that this was wrong. Human against human seemed perverse in the extreme.

  He sighed and pushed that feeling deeper. Better this little battle now than the colonies waging full scale war against each other.

  Gore puffed out his chest. “Firing in five seconds.”

  Three mighty x-ray lasers streaked ahead, plowing into the hull of the Fleet battleship. Its carbon fiber outer shell evaporated like rice paper in front of a blowtorch. The metal underneath glowed white hot, warped, and turned to slag. All in the blink of an eye.

  He smiled briefly before erasing it. No, he would do his duty but he wouldn’t gloat, not even to himself.

  ***

  “What the hell was that?” DeWalt darted out of the holo cloak.

  King worked her panel and was the first to answer. “It appears the Caribbean Union was hit with x-ray lasers.” She looked up, wide eyed and terrified. “How’s that possible? Our best x-ray weapons have extremely limited range. They drain too much power for deployment.”

  “Why or how isn’t important, commander.” DeWalt hurried back into the holo. “What’s the Union’s status?”

  “They had to take the reactor off line. Hull breaches are being reported across the ship. It’s too early to tell if she can be saved, but she’s out of this fight for sure.”

  “Did we get a shot off?”

  “Yes, sir, but the angle was bad and our speed was too high. No damage was recorded.”

  He stared at the display and waited, patiently. The task force followed the curvature of the planet until the two forces were separated by its mass. “All power to the engines! Run them at a hundred and ten percent! It’s time we give them something to think about.” He slammed a fist into his palm. “And somebody find me another three damn fighter pilots! I don’t care where you get ‘em.”

  Zipping underneath the gray world, DeWalt turned the tables on his enemy. The task force emerged in the enemy’s rear faster than expected and closing rapidly. Ice ran through his veins. He was determined and focused, void of emotion.

  “Weapons, prepare for Alpha strike on this target.” He selected the closest vessel. “Fighters, keep tight formation with the capital ships. Defense only.” Grabbing ahold of the images of his ships, he rearranged them into a straight line with the Fist at the rear. “Transmit formation orders.”

  “Aye, sir. All weapons, all ships targeting enemy vessel.”

  “I want a staggered nuclear barrage, lieutenant. Transmitting the pattern now. We’re going to light up the sky.”

  ***

  Umair circled his command chair, hands clasped behind him. Gore’s voice broke above the crew’s chatter. “The enemy has emerged from around the planet on a direct intercept course.”

  He stopped mid stride and turned his upper body toward the captain. “He’s attacking?” No one answered the rhetorical question. “Their commander has guile.” He grinned. “I thought our display of force would intimidate them into inaction while we swung around. Now I see we’re dealing with a real warrior.”

  “In range in under five minutes.”

  He claimed into the chair and activated the holo. “Turn us to face the enemy and launch all fighters. This has turned into a real battle.”

  ***

  Susan was chomping at the bit. She glared at her stump and cursed it. I should be out there! We’re in a fight and I’m stuck in here for no other reason than some asshole doctor won’t clear me! Like I need both my legs, or any legs for that matter, to fly. I’d do anything to get in a cockpit.

  The med bay door slid open and a trio of officers burst in. She jerked her head toward the commotion. One of the gray uniformed men scanned the room until his eyes landed on her. He approached in a hurry.

  “Are you Lieutenant Susan Ross?”

 
“Yes. Wh...”

  “Can you fly?” He pointed a stiff finger at her and his eyes were hot.

  “Yes. Yes, sir, I can fly. No problem.”

  “You’re coming with me.” He unceremoniously threw her across his shoulders and took off for the fighter bay.

  Be careful what you wish for, she thought as her head bounced frantically.

  ***

  DeWalt narrowed his gaze. “Detonate first wave.”

  Globes of fission-powered beauty popped directly between the closing forces. Their energy dissipated and the light faded from space. “Wave two, detonate.” Again flashes of light and intense surges of radiation flooded the sensors of every ship.

  “Hard brake! We need to burn off speed for our attack run. Execute flight plan Bravo.” He shifted his attention to the weakening nuclear line. “Wave three, detonate.” The task force rearranged into two irregular rows, creating an uneven checkered pattern.

  “Thirty seconds to firing range.”

  “Excellent, commander. Wave four, detonate!”

  ***

  “Give me a firing solution now!” Umair hammered his armchair. “They must be in range.”

  “Admiral, we can’t get through the interference.”

  “Damn!”

  A battleship was the first to emerge from the radiative haze at point-blank range. In the blink of an eye, the enemy vessel and a smattering of fighters fired their lasers and cruised off into empty space, unharmed. The strike burned a hole in the Alexander the Great’s hull.

  The three dreadnoughts trained their x-ray lasers on the point where the battleship had appeared and fired. They missed the battleship that came into view at a different spot. It, too, fired at the Alexander and were out of its firing arc before harm could come to them.

  A fresh series of nuclear balls renewed the frustration his sensors endured. Umair’s skin darkened with new shades of rage. He pounded down on both armchairs. “Fire randomly into the dissipating cloud!”

  Another enemy ship, a cruiser, entered and exited the fray before his orders could be carried out. A fresh wound was burned into the bleeding dreadnought.

  Three more cruisers and their accompanying fighters mocked him as they plowed through his mis-directed lasers and crippled the mighty sister ship. Streams of atmosphere plumed out from multiple hull breaches.

  After the last enemy vessel evaded him, he picked up his tablet and tossed it across the bridge with all his strength, shattering it against the hull. The crew glanced at the impact point before pretending to ignore it.

  “Damage report!”

  Gore cleared his throat. “The Alexander is fighting to suppress several fires and close hull breaches. They have engines but main weapons are off-line. They estimate several hours to repair.”

  Umair wiped the sweat from his forehead and regained control of his composure in between slow deep breaths. “Helm, bring us about. All ships are to pursue at best speed.”

  This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.

  ***

  The bridge erupted into thunderous cheers once the the China Sea escaped from harm’s way. The smiles eroded when the object of their undivided attention turned and accelerated with its companions. It was pitted and covered in dozens of pinpricks from the fighters’ weaker lasers. The ship was heavily damaged but looked ready to continue the fight.

  DeWalt was humbled by the sight. We can’t take these monsters on toe to toe. They even have more fighters then us. Favorable terrain is my only chance. Where the hell do I get favorable terrain in space?

  He worked the holo, changing views and zooming into different sectors with his hands. “Here!” He pointed. “Helm, set course for this part of the asteroid belt.”

  We’re going to finish this on my terms.

  Chapter Seven

  Space Superiority

  Susan was in her element. Sure, there were two bogies on her six and she was, figuratively speaking, on the edge of her seat just trying to avoid becoming a red smear on a floating hunk of rock, let alone not getting shot out of the sky. But this is what she was made for – an Avenger pilot fighting a desperate battle, which would determine the fate of her species. It’s what she’d dreamed about her entire life. The stakes were even higher than at Kitright Prime. The higher the stakes, the sharper she was, though.

  The battle space was a mess. A collage of chaos, ships, rocks, KKC rounds, missiles, lasers, drones, and death. She’d never felt more alive.

  Climbing hard, she skirted the surface of a rust-colored asteroid. Her pursuers matched the maneuver, as she hoped they would.

  “Dark Knight One,” she called out. The Dark Knights was the name of her squadron that had been almost wiped out at the Battle of Kitright Prime. She’d resurrected the name for the impromptu reduced squadron of wounded pilots pressed into service. “I’m done wrapping. You ready to receive your gifts?”

  “Roger that, Mrs. Claus. DK Two and Three are ready to receive.”

  A mischievous grin crossed her face. Her Avenger dove hard under an outcropping. Illustrated laser streaks from her comrades in waiting appeared on her HUD. They burned into the tails of the enemy fighters, destroying their engines. The crippled craft tumbled into a wall of jagged rock, and a flash of light was the only evidence of their elimination. Their drone escorts were easy targets and soon fell.

  “Scratch two bad guys!” She sent her Avenger into a victory roll.

  The enemy was more numerous and flew upgraded versions of her own craft. They were faster, had greater agility, and more firepower. Even so, their pilots lacked something. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but they just weren’t as skilled. In the end, the two fighter forces were evenly matched.

  The sense of achievement vanished. “You’re being tracked by enemy contact.” Valkyrie, her CAL, highlighted the threat.

  She looped around to pick up her wingmen for protection and went hunting.

  ***

  “We’re losing too many fighters.” Umair paced with heavy steps. “That damn belt is a maze. It’s perfect for experienced combat pilots to mount a defense.”

  “The battle computer estimates we’ll lose almost our entire force and the enemy will retain a combat-effective squadron.” Gore locked eyes with his admiral. “I recommend we retreat.”

  Umair stared at the main view screen. His deputy was right; retreat was the safe thing to do. But how would the enemy react if he retreated? They seemed determined and outnumbered him in capital ships. While he outweighed them in total firepower, they could use the rocks as cover before advancing into the open to fire on him from multiple angles. If he retreated, he’d have to pull back to empty space over the planet. It would be a standoff, then, and he knew support wasn’t coming for him, while they could expect additional Fleet ships to eventually come. It had to end here.

  “Order the fighters back to reform. We are not retreating.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Umair had grown up on the streets of Damascus. On paper, he had been a ward of the state, assigned to live at an orphanage. He rarely stayed there, though, preferring to survive on his wits and toughness. A local gang called the Jackals noticed his potential and recruited him.

  In the beginning, things had been good. The competing gangs had an agreement that divided territory between them. Everyone had their piece of the pie and everyone prospered running low level crime rings. Then some got greedy, wanted others’ territories and it all went to shit. Fistfights escalated to urban street fighting and people started to die. It wasn’t until one gang conquered the rest that the streets quieted down, till the killing stopped. The Jackals hadn’t been on the winning side, so he left.

  High aptitude test scores and the fact that he’d never been charged with a crime made him eligible to join the Fleet as a crewman. Again his talents were appreciated, and he climbed the ranks until IS recruited him for a very special mission, unifying humanity under one true, overarching governing authority. He’d seen the results of dividin
g territory into petty kingdoms and didn’t want that future for mankind.

  He believed in the mission and was determined to see it through on this day. “Once our people are clear, I want the asteroid belt blanketed with nuclear explosions.”

  Gore and the weapons officer exchanged looks. “Sir, given the cover of the asteroids, it’s highly unlikely we will destroy any of their ships.”

  “I’m not counting on them being destroyed by our missiles. I want to stir things up.”

  Waves of missiles entered the belt and detonated. The coordinated series of exploding light could’ve been mistaken for a fireworks display by a naive observer. Small rocks were vaporized by the expanding flames. Medium to larger asteroids were shoved into movement, pushing them off the field of play. The largest masses didn’t even seem to notice the release of atomic fury.

  Umair circled his chair. “Prepare to send the fighters back in.”

  Gore stepped alongside him and thought-spoke. “We’ve already lost twelve, sir. Is it wise to send them back in without support?”

  “No. That is why we are going in with them.”

  “Sir, I must ask you to reconsider. This battlefield favors the enemy. The area is too cluttered. We risk being ambushed by hidden fighters. A direct hit from a nuclear warhead will destroy even us.”

  “Look at the screen, captain. Our missiles have trimmed the weeds. Our own fighters will stay close to scout around the remaining obstacles. We will close with the enemy and bring our superior firepower to bear. Our thicker armor will better protect us in a head to head contest.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” Gore snapped to attention and returned to his station.

  Umair activated his holo display. “Helm, take us in slow. Keep us in the open. It’s time to end this.”

  ***

  DeWalt was spread thin. The nuclear barrage had forced some of his ships to pull back to larger asteroids that were further apart. He hadn’t expected this countermove and mentally kicked himself for failing to think of it.