The Last Hero

by Nathaniel Danes

  “Alert, 5,000 meters to impact.”

  Trent pounded away at the controls, then hit the ignition. Nothing.

  “Alert, 4,000 meters to impact.”

  He repeated the process. Nothing.

  “Alert, 2,500 meters to impact.”

  He tried again. The engines whined as if they wanted to start but couldn’t.

  Trent shouted, “Start, you stubborn bitch!”

  “Alert, 1,000 meters to impact.”

  “Major!”

  “Alert, 500 meters to impact.”

  “Major! I need those engines now!”

  His heart raced. Sweat flowed freely down his face. This was it, one more chance. His hand landed on the ignition just as he closed his eyes to say a silent prayer.

  I just want to see Anna again.

  Boom!

  The control panel in front of Trent lit up like a Christmas tree, but he didn’t see it. He didn’t need to have his eyes open to know that the shuttle came roaring back to life. If not for the sound, the g-forces hitting his body would have told him as much.

  Trent didn’t move, didn’t even open his eyes. He calmly sat there at peace. Neither the dying shuttle struggling to complete its final mission or the terrified screams of the passengers could penetrate the aurora surrounding him.

  I’m not going to die today. Not here. Not on this planet. I will see Anna again. I will see my daughter. Do you hear me God! I have my own plan, and it doesn’t involve dying here.

  He opened his eyes just in time to see the nose of the shuttle hitting the tops of what appeared to be trees. Ahead of them lay an entire forest of such things, offering no open ground for a soft landing.

  Thomas muttered just loud enough for Trent to hear, “Christ, we’re going to die.”

  Trent turned to her.

  “No. We are not going to die.”

  The shuttle dipped below the tops of the trees and slammed head on into solid trunks, snapping them in half. The hull held, but each blow brought it closer to buckling from the continuous assault.

  “Woohoo!” Simms shouted. “This ride is awesome!”

  Just when the shuttle couldn’t take another blow, they plowed through to a small strip of open ground. The spacecraft hit the red earth with a thud and slid, kicking up a thick cloud of debris.

  The left side caught a boulder, sending the shuttle into a wild spin. That resulted in them flipping upside down. The shattered hull sent a thin volley of deadly shrapnel into the cabin. A hundred meters later, they came to a rest on the edge of a creek.

  Trent was alive.

  Not everyone was as lucky.

  Chapter 9: Aftermath

  While hanging upside down in the co-pilot’s chair Trent used the rudimentary, and hastily put together, all-purpose AI uploaded into his helmet to access the unit’s status.

  The combat assist link, CAL, served a million uses but frustratingly could only answer in text. The fact the program functioned at all, given the time limitations to resurrect yet another shelved military R&D project, was a miracle of human ingenuity.

  “Report on unit readiness,” he commanded.

  Fifty-one soldiers accounted for. Injuries: one broken arm, four concussions, two broken legs, five minor puncture wounds, and three killed in action. Forty-one combat effective.

  KIAs!

  “Who are the KIAs?”

  Sergeant Metz: Puncture wound to cranium.

  Private Williams: Puncture wound to first vertebra.

  Sergeant Henderson: Puncture wound to the cranium.

  Henderson! Not Henderson. Not like this! Okay. Get a grip. First, I must get out of here and start pulling everyone together.

  Trent opened a line to the unit amid cries of pain.

  “Okay, listen up. We’re still alive, we made it. Our mission is still a go. First ord...”

  “Holy shit! I think Metz is dead!” an unrecognizable voice shouted.

  “Listen up! We have causalities. Metz, Henderson, and Williams are dead. There’s nothing we can do for them. We have wounded to help, and a mission to complete. Do you get me?”

  Only a few muffled affirmative responses came through.

  “Anyone who is not hurt carefully get down, then we’ll help the wounded and form a medic station outside. That’s our priority. Get to it.”

  ***

  With everyone evacuated from the shuttle, Trent organized operations. He gathered Captain Jones, Lt. Thomas, and Lt. Simms to hand out work assignments.

  “We don’t have a lot of time. We need to cover our tracks as best we can and get away from here, ASAP.”

  “We have wounded, sir.” Simms said.

  Jones said what Trent was thinking. “We’ll stabilize them as best we can. None of them are serious. We need to put some distance between us and this wreck.”

  “Exactly, Captain.” Trent pointed at her. “Secure all of the supplies out of the shuttle that we can carry and oversee the medic’s preparations of the wounded. Get them ready to move. Also, make sure anything left in the shuttle is destroyed. If the Bearcats find this site, I don’t want them to gain any useable intelligence.”

  He shifted toward Thomas.

  “Put together a work detail, minus the medics. Take Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, and Delta squads. I need you to cover the shuttle and crash trail as best you can. Use whatever you can find. Branches or anything else you can think of. I know you won’t be able to hide it well, I just want it hidden well enough so it won’t be so visible from the air.

  “Simms, I need you to take Echo. Divided them up. I want one group to start taking samples, air, soil, and water. Run tests to see what this environment has in store for us. CAL’s initial readings don’t look good for getting out of these suits anytime soon. I want to be sure.”

  Trent paused, not wanting to give the next order.

  “Sir?”

  “Yes, Simms.”

  “What do you want me to do with the rest of Echo?”

  “Burial detail,” the words fell off his lips more than were spoken. “Pick a nice spot well within the tree line. Dismissed.”

  Once the officers walked away, Trent stared at the landscape. The planet looked a lot like home, expect in the way blue/green dominated Earth’s color palette, red/orange ruled this world. He turned, taking it all in, finally resting his gaze on the mountain range they would have to cross en-route to their objective. He could hear animal noises off in the woods and hoped they could avoid the creatures.

  “CAL, ping Corporals Roth and Gabriel. Tell them I need to speak with them as soon as they can get to me.”

  Not a minute later, they both approached, appearing as little more than smudges on the landscape. When activated, the elf green suit’s nano infused fabric on each side reflected the image on the opposite side of the suit making the wearer somewhat invisible.

  If someone looked closely, they could detect a light distortion. This distortion became more pronounced the more the suit moved. It was the best camouflage possible.

  Trent’s CAL was the only way he could tell the two apart.

  “Gabriel, I’m sorry about Henderson. He was a hell of a soldier.”

  “One of a kind, sir.”

  “I wish this was under different circumstances, but it is what it is. You are both promoted to acting squad sergeant. Roth, you take over for Metz and Gabriel...Henderson. I know both of you will rise to the challenge. This mission has just begun. Failure is not an option.”

  ***

  Trent reached the creek’s edge. The flowing water teemed with life as dozens of small fish swam around. He squatted to join Simms and his team analyzing the environment.

  “What do you have for me?”

  “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

  “Just lay it out. I am not in the mood.”

  “The water is okay. Well it’s not really okay, but our suits can make it work if need be.”

  “The air?” Trent asked in a tone relaying that he wanted t
o get to the real point.

  Simms shook his head. “It’s a no go. Our nano immune system should be able to take care of any alien bacteria and such, but the damn atmosphere is ninety-five percent methane and five percent carbon dioxide.”

  “Shouldn’t the nanos in our lungs process the CO into oxygen?”

  “Yeah, they can do that but at such low levels it won’t work. Bottom line is we’re stuck in the suits until extraction.”

  “Of course we are. Not sure why I dare dream anything would go our way today. Thanks, Lieutenant.”

  Trent stood.

  “Oh, um...sir?”

  “Yes.”

  “The burial detail is ready. Did you want to say anything? You know...like a service or something.”

  “It will be the last thing we do before moving out.”

  ***

  The golden sun began to set against the crimson horizon as the unit gathered around the three freshly dug graves. The bodies lay bare in their final resting place having been stripped of any technology the enemy could study. The nanos in their system had long since self-destructed.

  The graves sat several meters inside the tree line with a nice view of the creek. Trent liked the spot. Henderson was an outdoorsman and would have appreciated the scenery.

  I was really looking forward to charging into the breach with you one more time, old friend.

  He surveyed the nearly invincible mourners and thought they made the oddest bunch of funeral attendees in history, with their almost ghost-like appearance.

  In a somber tone, he began.

  “Take a look. You are standing before history. Here lie the first combat casualties of the Earth Legion. The first to fall in humanity’s first interstellar war. All of that bullshit will matter to someone someday, but not today and not to us.

  “Sergeant Metz, Private Williams, and Sergeant Henderson aren’t historical relics. They were our friends, our comrades in arms. That means something, it means something special.

  “I had the honor of serving with Henderson before this mission. He was a fearless warrior, and I deeply regret that he won’t be at my side in the coming battle. Sadly, fate, or destiny for that matter, didn’t allow me the opportunity to fight side by side with Metz and Williams. For that, my life will have been lesser. While I cannot speak of their valor from personal experience, I can tell you that when the call came…when their people asked for their help to fight an unknown nightmare, they stood up to be counted while many shied away.

  “Carry their memory with you into battle. You will be stronger for it. May whomever you call God have mercy on our souls.”

  Good-bye old friend. I will join you soon enough, but not today.

  ***

  With the graves filled, the remaining forty-eight legionnaires of Earth marched away from the shuttle that had served as their home for over two months. Those with broken legs couldn’t walk for another day, at which time the nanos’ repair work would be completed. Until then, their stretchers would have to be dragged.

  With much ground to cover in a short time, their walk turned into a slow jog. This in turn became a brisk one. There they were, forty-eight ghosts running away from death into a setting alien sun on a course taking them to the unknown.

  Chapter 10: The March

  They ran, and they ran.

  Nano reinforced legs and stamina carried them as CAL’s night vision guided their path through the moonless darkness. Trent held point with Sergeant Gabriel. He didn’t feel it was safe to stop until dawn broke.

  Each squad took a turn on watch as the others grabbed some sleep. Thanks to the nanos, they only needed a few hours to recharge. Trent strolled across their small encampment, holding a MRG (magnetic rail gun) rifle on a shoulder while most still slept. He noticed Jones was awake.

  Trent said, “Captain, I hope you got some shut eye. I noticed you were up a lot of the time. We have a long road ahead of us. I need you fresh.”

  Jones stood up from the rock. Her tall frame surpassed Trent.

  “No need to worry, sir. Even before our...improvements, I never needed a lot of sleep.”

  He nodded.

  “Should I wake the men, sir?”

  Trent scanned the sleeping legionnaires, who blended seamlessly with the orange tinted ground.

  “Let’s give them another couple of minutes. They’ve earned it. Have a seat, Captain.” Trent sat down on the rock.

  Jones quickly obeyed.

  “So, Captain...why did you sign up for this vacation?”

  She stared at a tree.

  “I used to think the answer to that was complicated. But I had a lot of time on that damn shuttle to think. Now I think it pretty bloody simple. My whole life, I never felt like I fit in. I imagine you can guess why. Growing up, there weren’t many girls my size. While they wanted to play house with their dolls, I was lining them up in formation for an attack. Hasn’t helped either that everyone assumes I’m a lesbian. The only place I ever felt like I fit in was the army.

  “Then one day there wasn’t an army anymore, and I was right back where I started – feeling left out. When the chance to join the Legion came up, I knew I could belong somewhere again. I’m just looking for a place to fit in. It’s that simple.”

  So under that tough mask you show the world, you are really a little girl looking for someone to play with. Not unlike the rest of us I suppose.

  “You know, Captain I doubt you are al...”

  A rumble off in the distance captured Trent’s attention. A second later, Jones’ ears zeroed in on it as well.

  Jones asked, “What the bloody hell is that?”

  The rumble grew closer.

  Trent sprung to his feet, jogging toward the sound.

  “CAL, ping everyone awake, now!”

  Immediately the ground around him came to life as the camouflaged warriors rose from their slumber.

  “All units, something is coming our way from the east. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie and Delta form a defensive line along those trees.” Trent pointed to the position, highlighting them to everyone’s CAL. “Echo, fall back twenty-five meters. Make damn sure our flanks are clear. Don’t let anyone, or anything behind us. Move. Whatever this is, it’s closing fast.”

  A blizzard of blurs swarmed toward the line. Some lay flat while others found security behind trees. In moments, everyone fell in position.

  “CAL, zoom the visor view onto the source of the sound.”

  What the...

  Trent had trouble comprehending what came at him. When he joined the army, he knew he would see amazing things. When he “volunteered” for the Legion, he imagined the universe offered many incredible wonders. Never in his wildest dreams did he ever think he would be charged by a herd of giant pink turkey creatures.

  “It’s a stampede! Prepare to fire on my mark. Echo Squad, split into two and move closer to our flanks. Give me a field of fire to ensure they flow around us.”

  The giant pink turkeys charged forward as CAL told Trent exactly how far away the rampaging herd was. The trees prevented a clear field of fire. He held until they came to within thirty meters. Raising his MRG, he switched to full auto and yelled, “Fire!”

  BB sized projectiles flew out the long barreled weapon. The small rounds lethalness came from its velocity, two point nine kilometers per second. The kinetic energy ripped apart anything it hit.

  Another marvel of a buried defense program, the MRG represented the first rail gun sufficiently downsized to allow a single soldier to carry it easily into combat. Its full auto one thousand rounds per minute firing rate, and two thousand round magazine made it infinitely superior to energy weapons. A fusion battery in the grip supplied the necessary power to accelerate the tiny pieces of depleted uranium.

  The MRG was a quiet weapon. It fired rounds with electricity and magnets not gunpowder. Even with this knowledge, he found the lack of noise odd as the damage from the units’ fire became evident on trees and charging animals that fell by the dozen.<
br />
  He held down on the trigger, sweeping the barrel from side to side. The charging herd disintegrated before the formation’s unending volley. They kept coming, and Trent kept his finger pressed down on the trigger.

  CAL flashed a warning, Ammunition low!

  The remaining number of rounds on the visor depleted so fast that he couldn’t read it.

  Trent was so focused on firing that he failed to notice right away when he ran out of targets. He only stopped to think after the MRG ran dry.

  Even with no shots left in the clip, he held the trigger firmly down as his heart raced. Finally, he managed to release his finger.

  “CAL, give me a readiness report.”

  Tense seconds passed as he waited.

  I can’t have lost anyone to fucking giant, wild, pink turkeys!

  Combat effective: Forty-eight.

  Thank God.

  “What the hell was that?” Simms asked out of breath.

  “I am not sure,” Thomas answered. “Thanksgiving will never be the same for me.”

  ***

  After days of running, they finally reached the mountain range that shielded them from detection on their shuttle approach. That didn’t make them much closer to their objective. The base was still days away from the mountains.

  Trent didn’t know what season the red planet currently celebrated. Hell, he didn’t know if it ever snowed here. All he knew was the passes through the mountains were open and for that, he gave thanks. He had no desire to reenact Hannibal’s daring and brutal march through the Alps on the way to attack Rome. This mission had been daring enough to date. He figured it would get brutal soon.

  Trent went up and down the single file column to monitor his troops, offer encouragement, and to be seen. With another kilometer before they reached the pass’s summit, Trent came up on Sergeant Roth, whose squad made up the rear.

  “Status, Sergeant?”

  “We’re as good as can be expected, sir.”

  “Anything I can do for you guys.” Trent didn’t know why he asked. He didn’t have anything to give.

  Appreciating the major’s good intentions, but understanding his limitations she laughed.