The Last Hero

by Nathaniel Danes

  Looking out across the glistening water, Trent asked, “Anything on the air?”

  “It’s fine, more than enough oxygen for our lungs to process, even without the nanos.” Simms fiddled with the machine. “Haven’t detected any pathogens that we can’t handle yet either. Give me a couple more minutes before you go for a swim without your suit, though.”

  “Not to worry, Captain. I’m the last one to go skinny dipping.”

  Major Jones cut in, “Colonel, we have something you might want to take a look at.”

  Trent found the major and a squad of legionnaires lingering around the side of a hill. Jones stared at the ground as he walked up to her. “What do you have?”

  Squatting, she reached down to remove some debris, exposing a hole in the hill. The mouth of the tiny cave was a rough circle about a meter and a half in circumference. Upon closer examination, Trent noticed markings on the tunnel walls that looked like the work of some type of claw.

  “What do we have here?” He was now squatting to get a better look.

  “I am not sure,” Jones said. “Other teams have found the same thing all along these hills.”

  Trent stood,

  “Must be an animal of decent size. The subterranean animals on Earth don’t have a habit of making their tunnels any bigger than they are. That way, anything scarier than them can’t get in.”

  A strong wind blew over the hill, kicking up dirt and swirling purple leafs. Trent looked up, expecting to see approaching storm clouds but only saw clear skies.

  “Can the Fist run some scans of the area for us?” Jones stood too. “Maybe penetrate the surface here and see how far these things go? Just to be on the safe side.”

  “Can’t,” Trent said shaking his head. “Already tried to do a detailed scan. Some kind of interference is messing it up. The best we can do is say that whatever these things are, they don’t have electrical power.”

  “That’s bloody reassuring.”

  Circling to take in the entire area, he paused to think.

  “Hopefully it’s nothing more than a local creature more afraid of us than we are of it. We’re going to be here for a couple days. To be on the safe side, I want continuous patrols on these hills and perimeter.”

  “Understood, I’ll coordinate a schedule.”

  ***

  Transferring enough water to supply thousands of crew and soldiers for the final months of the journey via utility shuttles equipped with tanks would take over seventy-two hours.

  Simms’ tests found nothing dangerous in the air or lake. Save for the holes the security patrols discovered, no signs of potential hostiles appeared. Given the apparent safety of the pristine lakeside, Trent and Captain DeWalt elected to allow shore leave for the stir-crazy personnel.

  Rotating groups of pale vacationers eagerly hopped out of shuttles, thrilled to be standing on grass and dirt.

  While the continuing patrols in the hills wore battle suits, those inside the perimeter were free to don whatever they wished. Black physical training shorts and gray shirts dominated the attire for many. Some of the women were delighted at the opportunity to wear a few articles of civilian clothing they brought along.

  Some organized into teams to play a variety of sports while others took a keen interest in the alien planet and explored. Others forwent it all and simply relaxed by the water’s edge, soaking up the natural light. The sound of the gentle waves carried away their worries, if only for a fleeting moment.

  Excited at the prospect of finding true solitude, Trent made for the far shore of the lake in search of a section void of others. Following the shoreline twenty meters inland, he walked across the virgin landscape with his MRG slung over a shoulder. For the first hour, he encountered others with a similar goal.

  To his delight, his exploration happened upon a piece of ground bearing a striking resemblance to the restored prairie lands he knew from his boyhood home in Iowa.

  The lanky waist high grasses covered the area with the occasional wildflower adding a touch of vibrant color to the light brown canvass. The grass brushed against Trent’s bare legs, offering a natural forgotten sensation. Closing his eyes and placing both palms down, he slowly stepped forward, allowing his other senses to take in the serenity.

  Pointed tips tickled the soft flesh of his hands. His enhanced ears heard birds chirping and any number of unidentified native species scurrying about on the ground. Walking toward the lake, the tall grasses gave way just before he came upon a steep slope. Unslinging his weapon, he laid it on the green grass before sitting down next to it.

  There in the clearing, he shut his eyes and drifted off into the first real sleep he’d experienced in a long time.

  The sun had begun to set by the time he stirred. A smile of stress free joy dared to appear before he remembered the terrible distance and time separating him from Anna.

  Splashing from the lake distracted him from the creeping depression. Wondering what it might be, Trent rolled onto his belly and crawled to the small cliff’s rim. His eyes grew large at what he saw.

  As the light of the dying sun reflected off the lake, Amanda emerged from the water. First, her beautiful face with blonde hair slicked back broke the surface. Looking from side to side for any of her comrades and seeing none, she waded toward the shore.

  Trent knew he should look away. Not only was it the gentlemanly thing to do, his position as her commanding officer dictated as much. Despite the demands of chivalry, he couldn’t pry his eyes from the tempting sight before him.

  ***

  Amanda, being a clever soldier, would never go swimming along in a strange place without thoroughly searching the area. She discovered Trent in a deep sleep and quickly formulated a plan before removing the first article of clothing.

  The splash that awoke him was strategically planned to do just that.

  Now she lingered, teasing him, with just her head sticking seductively out. With the coast clear, she charged her target with small strides to expose her naked skin for dramatic effect.

  ***

  Trent’s pulse quickened when her bare shoulders emerged, then the beginnings of her breasts. Again she paused, faking interest in a small fish, to let her cleavage taught him.

  He wanted to yell out words of encouragement to hasten her steps but bit hard on his tongue.

  ***

  Struggling not to smile, having had her fun, she took another step forward, popping her perfect breasts right out, revealing the effects of the cool water.

  ***

  Trent made an audible gasp, which Amanda’s enhanced ears must have heard. Given her lack of reaction, he assumed that she hadn’t.

  ***

  She had.

  Taking pride in the applause, she pushed through the water, offering ever more of her sun-starved skin for Trent’s enjoyment. The light glistened off her toned and trim belly when she again paused when the water level lowered to the top of her hips.

  Gliding her fingers across the surface, she spun around to display her firm, round rear.

  ***

  Trent’s gaping mouth suddenly went dry.

  His heart skipped a beat when she abruptly swirled around again to launch a full-frontal strike.

  The sun threatened to dip below the hills, taking with it the precise light illuminating the siren standing before him. The naked goddess strutted toward the pile of clothes and MRG lying on the shore when an odd noise captured his attention.

  There was a rustling behind him, followed by a waaa, waaa, waaa.

  Amanda glanced up directly at Trent with a concerned look.

  This sent his head jerking down for guilty cover. Believing he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he crawled backward with every intention of running away like a thirteen-year-old boy after his mom discovered his hidden porn stash.

  Having pulled away from the ledge and forgetting about the nose, he rose into a crouch taking hurried but silent steps away from the scene of the crime.


  Something flew by his right ear, stopping him in his tracks.

  Puzzled, he stayed low and looked in the general direction the unknown object originated from.

  Seeing three pointed projectiles slicing through the air toward him, his reflexes executed a delicate dance to avoid the danger.

  Dodging left then right, he threw himself onto his back.

  Trent now knew what was happening.

  Tapping his right earlobe, he shouted an urgent message, “Under fire! I’m under attack! This is not a drill! Backup requested!”

  Arching his back, he lunged onto his knees. The tall prairie glass waved just over his head as he aimed the MRG out front. Letting lose a steady stream of BBs, he mowed down the grass and swung the barrel left and right. The wind carried a flutter of clippings away.

  A lack of counter fire convinced Trent to release the trigger. Shifting left, he changed position into uncut grass for better concealment. Daring to raise his head, he attempted to spy a look at the enemy.

  His eyes grew wide.

  The terrifying sight encompassed a one-hundred and eighty degree view of tousled grass tops converging on his position.

  Dropping below the grass line to avoid more enemy fire, Trent chopped down bushel after bushel of grass as he blindly fired into the unknown.

  The menacing waaa, waaa, waaa sound filled the air again. Much louder this time, heard easily over the hum of the MRG on full auto.

  Feeling the situation growing desperate, his mind shouted, ordering the body to follow.

  Fall back, you idiot!

  Obeying the command, Trent switched to grenades, launching several at the encroaching semi-circle to cover his retreat toward the lake.

  The lake! Amanda!

  The distraction, while brief, proved costly.

  A dart bored deep into his left shoulder. Two more impaled themselves into his left thigh before he could react. Screaming in pain, he failed to dodge another one that pierced his right arm.

  Rising onto the balls of his feet, while keeping his body low, he resolved to flee the attackers as fast as he could.

  The tactic may have succeeded, if not for the four darts hitting his left mid-section. He still might have escaped, but a final dart to the back of his head turned him off like a switch.

  The MRG fell to the ground ahead of his knees slamming down. The rest of him landed with a thud, face first into a small batch of blossoming wildflowers

  ***

  Disappointed at Trent’s premature departure, Amanda stalked toward her clothes when his distress call rang out to the entire Legion. Still wet and naked, she only delayed long enough to throw on a pair of white panties and bra before snatching up her MRG and charging to his aid.

  Even without the CAL, the nanos and communication device implanted in the ear coordinated to give the direction of any signal received. The sense of where to go came through to her as a feeling, as if a natural instinct.

  Unfortunately, the most direct line her instincts told her to take was blocked by the slope. Too steep to climb and too high to jump, Amanda sprinted up the shoreline looking for a path inland. Her bare feet plowed into the moist soft soil. She paid no heed to the tiny cuts suffered from small rocks and sharp shells.

  Coming upon a dip in the height of the slope, she changed course toward the water, pausing to gauge the necessary effort as a wave rushed over her feet. A look of grim determination draped across Amanda’s face. She stared down the two and a half meter natural hurdle. Slinging her weapon onto her back, she leapt into a full sprint, reaching top speed in a matter of meters.

  At the right moment, she channeled all of her speed and strength into a desperate jump. Flying through the air, she immediately knew that she wouldn’t make it cleanly.

  She smacked into the soft earth hard, the breath rushing out of her in a startled gasp.

  One hand gripping a clump of grass and the other a rock, Amanda prayed both held long enough for her to get the balance of her weight over the edge. Gritting her teeth, she slowly and carefully pulled herself up.

  The strange waaa, waaa, waaa sound greeted her achievement.

  Quickly standing, she brought the MRG around and readied it for a fight.

  ***

  A series of bams increased her fear, until she recognized the sound of an MRG grenade detonating. Amanda lowered her body and charged toward the blasts.

  Hearing Trent’s cries of pain flooded her nerves with adrenaline. Emotion trumped tactical sensibility. She increased the speed of her attack into an unknown situation.

  Her reckless charge took the enemy by complete surprise. That was important because the mere sight of them astonished her.

  From a small rise, she looked down on the attackers; furry black creatures, a little over a meter in height. The little bastards fired blow darts by the dozen in Trent’s direction. One of them looked up, and she got a good look at its all black eyes before hurling a barrage of grenades at the outflanked enemy. Walking her fire along their line, each round met a cluster of the enemy. Black fur flew in all directions. Their purple blood stained the prairie grass.

  Exhausting her limited supply of grenades, she reached for another tube only to realize she was half-naked, without an ammo belt.

  Undeterred, she switched the MRG to full auto and proceeded to hose down the area. Her merciless fire cut her opponents in half. Their courage failed them. They fell back.

  Amanda’s victory rush faded when she noticed a second wave of attackers on her right. This force had now targeted her.

  Diving to her left, she evaded an untold number of darts. Rolling to a stop at the bottom of the rise, she sprang to her feet, frantically searching for Trent.

  The strange waaaing began again.

  Guessing that the sound meant nothing good, she panicked at her inability to locate Trent. Not wanting to give away her position by calling his name, she continued to search.

  Finally, just as she heard the rustling grass of approaching attackers, she discovered her bloodied comrade. Fear shot through her at the sight of his motionless body. A quick finger on the neck spoke to the strength of his heart.

  Slinging both of their weapons on her back, she squatted down to cradle him in her arms.

  A dart nicked Amanda’s ear as it zipped past her face. Taking the hint that time was short, she stood and ran as fast as her legs could carry the weight.

  More primitive projectiles zinged by as the rushing attackers kept pace. Sharp, stinging shots of pain indicated a growing collection of wounds on her back and legs.

  Despite trampling the tall grass at a furious rate, Amanda felt the enemy closing. She contemplated dropping Trent, to turn and fight, when salvation appeared overhead in the form of a scrambled shuttle.

  Hitting the deck, she cleared the line-of-fire for the shuttle to open up with its railgun and rockets. Explosions in between weird screeches of pain washed over the wounded soldiers.

  The firing ceased, surrendering to an eerie silence. A booming voice projected from the shuttle broke the calm, “It’s clear, get in!”

  Needing no more encouragement, Amanda rose with Trent in her arms and ran for the back of the shuttle, where the lowered door awaited them. Hopping onto the hovering craft, she breathed a sigh of relief as the door closed behind her.

  Setting Trent down for a medic to attend to, she remained standing because of the darts sticking in her back. She soon noticed her fellow passengers staring intently at her. Looking down, she realized what held their attention.

  From chin to toes, a thin layer of mud coated her body, the result of the leap and climb over the small cliff. In the heat of the moment while pulling herself over the ledge, she failed to notice her bra being dragged down, exposing her breasts for all to see.

  Looking back up at her brothers-in-arms, she flashed a pleasant smile before casually pulling the bra cups back up and shrugged her shoulders.

  ***

  “What happened?” Trent weakly asked the sandy hair
ed brain surgeon shining a light in his eyes.

  “Well...from what I understand you got yourself in a bit of trouble.” The doctor clicked the penlight off. “Came in here with a pile of darts sticking in you. Dam’dest thing I’ve ever seen. I never thought I’d be treating legionnaires with blow dart injuries when I joined the Fleet Medical Corp.”

  Groggy, Trent processed the doctor’s words cross-referencing them with his final memories.

  “Blow darts. Yeah...that’s right. What the hell was shooting at me? I never got a look at them.”

  “Some indigenous primitive species from what I’ve heard. I don’t have the details.”

  “You got your butt kicked by a bunch of pygmies...sir.” Thomas opened the curtain to limp in and half laughed.

  “Pygmies?” Trent said still not fully with it.

  The doctor shook his head. “Try not to confuse the colonel, Captain. He did just wake up from a head injury.”

  Trent reached up with both hands to feel the bandage on his head.

  “You took a dart to the head,” Thomas offered an explanation.

  “Hit you in just the right spot,” the doctor carried on. “Knocked you out cold.”

  “How...how did I...”

  Thomas said, “Roth got you out. She was swimming near you.” She winked at him. “Heard your call for help and fought her way to you, saved your life.”

  Oh yeah...Roth swimming. That’s right.

  For a few seconds, a boyish smile threatened to show itself before Trent wiped it away. Not before Thomas took note.

  “Is she all right?”

  “She sustained a number of dart hits too.” The doctor examined the data displayed over Trent’s head. “They were all superficial.”

  “Good. What exactly happened?” he directed the question at Thomas.

  The doctor excused himself.

  “I only know what Simms told me,” Thomas said. “Some holes you guys discovered led to an underground network where an intelligent species lives. Must be huge ‘cause there were a lot of them. They like it dark and didn’t like us there, so they attacked as the sun was coming down.”

  “Did they get anyone?”