You’re mine this time.
The enemy charged the bulge in their lines with reckless courage.
“Grenades!” Amanda shouted. “On my mark!”
The upright housecats crested the line of debris along their side of the road.
“Now!”
Bravo squad vomited a wall of grenades. The human rounds detonated in their guts, the larger Bearcat devices exploded at their feet.
Body parts flew through the air and green blood coated the field.
“Bravo, charge!” the major ordered.
With another push, Amanda drove Bravo’s remaining eight members to within a few blocks of the objective.
So close.
Taking cover against a wall, she collected her thoughts. The pause allowed her to appreciate the scene unfolding around her.
Human and Bearcat soldiers, both desperate for victory, forgot their differences as they worked toward a common goal, capturing that damned red flag.
To her left, a Bearcat warrior provided covering fire for a human legionnaire. In front, a human officer gave orders to a group of four Bearcats, neither seeming to care about the last hundred years of hatred and death between their species. On the right, a soldier from each species shared a small natural foxhole under heavy fire as if it were the backseat of a car on a third date.
Baptism by fire, even harmless holo fire, blessed the union between humanity and Bearcats.
For a few moments, Amanda even saw the genius behind Trent’s sadistic training regimen. However, while surveying evidence of the forming bond, she failed to notice the horde of advancing Kitright.
The counterattack took them by surprise as the taste of final victory clouded their judgment.
Amanda and the rest of Bravo fought valiantly to the bitter end, but fell to a hail of energy bolts that melted their cover. All along the line, humans and Bearcats died together.
“Get up and get set to run the sim again.” Trent’s voice commanded. She could imagine the smirk on his face. “Just so you know, the objective is to actually capture the flag. Not to get yourselves wiped out.”
Go fuck yourself. Amanda knew the thought had to be almost universal by now.
After another half-dozen trips into the meat grinder, the weary troops retired to dinner. There they discovered pre-assigned seats to ensure each intermixed squad ate together. They continued to bond over food and conversation dominated by unbiased bitching aimed at their commanding officers. Some things transcended species boundaries.
***
Trent and Hido made their way to the Officers Club for dinner. Laughing and chatting about the day’s events, Trent failed to notice that the room fell dead silent on their entry.
Grabbing a table, they watched the simulated setting sun.
The Officers and Enlisted Clubs offered patrons a valuable product, the feeling of nature. Holo-generated sunlight, skylines, and moonlit evenings helped people pretend they didn’t live in metal tombs.
A steward cautiously approached the table.
Trent didn’t blame the man. Hido, at almost three meters tall with large hands and a mouth full of sharp teeth, struck a rather intimidating look.
“What can I get you gentleman?”
“Black Label for me,” Trent said. “You can save yourself a trip and make it a double. As for my friend here, I spoke to the club supervisor the other day about beverages to accommodate our new ally’s chemistry, since alcohol can’t get them drunk.”
“Ah, yes. I do remember him saying something about that. I will bring out what we have.”
“Thank you.”
The steward returned with the scotch and a tall glass of an off-white colored drink.
Hido picked it up, bringing it up to his nose. “What is this?”
“Good question,” Trent took a sip of his drink. “We have data on your physiology and a couple notes from my trip to your world. We inputted that information and queried the mainframe as to what you could drink from our stock of source ingredients.”
“And...?”
He smirked. “Oddly enough, plain old cow’s milk. It has some similarities to a drink of yours back home. Primarily the lactose, which in your body has an alcohol-like effect. The club’s bar doesn’t usually serve it, but I changed that and made sure Earth keeps a steady stream of it flowing. Take a drink and let me know if it’s okay.”
Hido cautiously sipped the white liquid. Then took a deeper sip, followed by a gulp.
“It’s very good,” he said with a bright smile. “I think you may have discovered a lucrative trade item.”
Ninety minutes and two steaks – one raw, the other almost – later, Low Commander Oodon and Major Cook joined them for an after-dinner drink. A full moon illuminated the room with a soft glow.
Oodon would serve as Trent’s XO on the ground assault team while Cook would fill the same role for Hido on the boarding party.
Major Cook took a long pull from his dark beer. His curly hair and big nose dominated his appearance. “General, if I may ask, how much longer are you planning to make the Low Commander and I fight impossible sims?”
Trent glanced at Hido. “Just one more day,” the Bearcat answered. “Then we’ll segregate the century into the two assault groups, ship- and planetside.”
Oodon finished his milk in a big gulp, setting the glass down. “I trust the training objectives will be more realistic.”
Trent smiled wide. “No need to worry, Low Commander. I promise you that you will be able to taste realistic action again. The scenario will be much more accurate to the situation. Right now our engineers are working to rearrange sim room two so it resembles the layout of the trading post.”
“Major,” Hido said. “you and I will be running mock attacks against decommissioned ships in the ghost fleet.”
Murmurs from a group of five Legion officers, led by a general, grew louder as they voiced their discontent at having Bearcats in the club. One of them said, “I wonder how long till one of them shoots us in the back?” Their intent was to be heard.
Trent glanced at the offending party, then back at Hido, who ignored the comment. Seeking to provoke a reaction, the offending general said, “I’m a dog person myself. As my dad used to say, never trust a cat.”
A female captain said, “I wonder how bad they shed? I mean, it’s got to be a real bitch for the janitor bots to sweep up after them.”
Laughter from the group filled the room.
Trent understood the source of their prejudice. Decades of war just couldn’t be swept away because command ordered it. He felt for them, but he couldn’t let their attitude open fresh wounds.
After the group compared Hido to a mutant circus animal, Trent acted. He slowly and silently rose with hot eyes locked on the general who should’ve known better. Her return gaze didn’t signal retreat. Stepping down from her barstool, she squared her shoulders with his.
He looked down upon the shorter woman. Hands on his hips, he said, “Do you have a problem, General?”
“Me?” She jabbed a thumb into her chest. “I’m not the one drinking and laughing with the enemy. I’m not the one with the problem, General.”
“Maybe you didn’t get the memo. These soldiers are our allies now. The Kitright are the enemy. Get with the program or get the hell out of the Legion.”
She clenched her fists, closing the space between them. Not wanting to get in the middle of a pissing match between top brass, the rest of her group slipped away.
“Funny thing, General.” Disdain oozed from her lips. “When I close my eyes and remember the good friends who’ve died next to me, it was always a Bearcat who’d pulled the trigger.”
Hido stood as well, towering over the bigot. “General, I know how you feel. I, too, have lost many comrades in the war between our peoples. In fact, General Maxwell is personally responsible for most of them.
“Unfortunately, we were tricked into fighting each other. We must now put aside our grievances to take our rev
enge on those who truly deserve it. And, for what it is worth, I’m sorry for the pain my people have caused you.”
The sincere words bounced off her thick armor of hatred. “You’re sorry,” she spat. “You’re sorry. Your apology means shit to me. I’ll tell you want to do with your apology. You can shov–”
“Enough!” Trent yelled. He brought himself to within centimeters of her angry scowl. “Listen up, General. I was fighting this war and losing friends while your grandfather was still dumping in his pants. I sacrificed a life with my family to serve in this war of lies, left my wife and abandoned my daughter. Who, mind you, I just watched die of old age a few months back. So don’t you dare assume you can preach to me about loss due to this war, because I’ve lost far more than I hope you ever experience.
“Furthermore, General, we need the Bearcats and they need us. We need each other so we can make the sons-of-bitches who started the war in the first place pay, and pay they will.”
He jabbed a finger into her collar bone. “If you cause trouble with this alliance, you’ll find yourself in the way of my revenge. You don’t want to get in the way of my revenge. Now, get the hell out of here before I personally throw you out.”
Speechless, her eyes drifted to the floor as she quietly left.
“Thank you,” Hido said, putting a giant hand on Trent’s shoulder.
“Don’t mention it, my friend. Bartender, another round over here when you have a chance.”
***
Another week of hard training passed before Trent and Hido made the call to launch the operation. They would’ve liked another month, but every day that neither side carried out offensive operations risked having the Kitright discover their plan.
The Blind Fury was scheduled to depart in the morning, giving Trent and Amanda one last chance to spend the night together before the war made such luxuries impossible.
The damn security monitors were the main problem. Officers’ quarters and the enlisted barracks were on different levels. If Amanda entered the officer’s level, she would be noted and tracked automatically. A general’s ID hanging out on the enlisted level would draw even more unwanted attention.
Thankfully, not all of the station currently contained an active security monitoring system. Some of the more minor sections of the station, such as the cargo hold at level twelve, section C, were out while crews worked on repairs.
Trent did his best to look casual as he made his way to the romantic rendezvous. A general carrying a small bag in an area under construction naturally attracts the attention of a few passersby, but fortunately, they quickly dismissed him from their minds.
In the cargo hold, Trent found a little spot for them behind a wall of crates serving as a last line of privacy.
Reaching into the bag, he pulled out and deployed a thick blanket and a bottle of real red wine with wine glasses. He had even managed to find a couple of candles, an ancient product in short supply on a deep-space station. He admittedly didn’t know much about women, but he knew they thought candles were romantic. Pulling a few strings, he had been able to find a couple. He set out the lit candles, wine, and glasses on a small box by the blanket.
***
Amanda cautiously entered the room. At first, she didn’t see anything. Her disappointment turned to curiosity as a small flickering light grabbed her attention.
Slowly, she stepped around the wall of crates to find Trent laying on his side atop a dark blue blanket. Seeing the wine and candles made her smile with appreciation.
“Oh, you shouldn’t have.”
Sitting up, he grabbed a glass of wine to hand to her. “The least I could do, since we won’t be able to spend any time together for a while. At least not as a couple, that is. The destroyer is going to be a tight fit.”
She studied the plain cargo hold, “Well, I like what you’ve done to the place.” She sat down.
He ran a hand gently across her cheek. Eyes closed, she tilted her head toward him.
“I missed you,” he said
“I missed you, too.” She reclined on her elbows. “Can I ask you something?”
“What?”
“Why did you put me on the ship assault team with Hido?”
He shook his head. “I can’t have you near me and keep my head in the game. I’ll be constantly worrying about your safety if you’re near me. Seeing you on the station’s command bridge, in that Bearcat’s arms, was too much for me.” A tear rolled down his cheek as he remembered that frightful moment before jumping home.
She wiped away the glistening streak. “You’re not going to worry about me on the ship with Hido?”
“Oh, I’ll be worried sick, but I’ll know I can’t do anything about it. If you’re with me, I can do something about it, and that might get people killed.”
“It’s not like we haven’t been in combat together since we got close.”
“Yeah, exactly. I almost lost you then and, and...” Trent snuggled close to her. “I can’t bear the idea of losing you now. You’re all I have.”
She sipped her wine, turning to kiss him. “You’re not going to lose me.”
“You can’t promise that.”
“No, you’re right, I can’t. But I can promise to make the time we do have together count for something.”
She drove home a deep passionate kiss that pushed him to the floor.
They made love that night as if it were their last time.
Chapter Fourteen
Execution
The Director of United Earth Systems’ Internal Security attended the emergency meeting of high-ranking IS officials through an encrypted holo projection. He religiously adhered to the golden rule of intelligence that knowledge is power. Preferring to keep his associates in the dark, he went to great lengths to deny them the knowledge of his true identity.
The Director achieved such unparalleled anonymity because he hadn’t risen from the ranks of IS in the traditional way. In fact, it was as if he appeared out of nowhere one day to lead a newly established ‘Special Projects Division’ via remote holo projection. Afterwards, he never chose to reveal him- or herself, and a string of successful missions launched him to the directorship.
Once appointed to the secret position of the clandestine agency tasked with the duty of maintaining harmony within the human realm, the Director solidified his position through a series of forced retirements, unfortunate accidents, and unexplained disappearances. Even with his own people planted throughout the agency, he never loosened his ruthless grip on power. Anyone who challenged his leadership found themselves in an untenable position, usually at the wrong end of a gun. None of the survivors questioned his authority or orders any more.
At each meeting, the Director’s avatar appeared in a different form. He felt it helped keep those trying to deal with him off balance. They never knew what to expect. One day he’d show up as a black man with an Afro and the next you’d find yourself getting yelled at by the spitting image of your grandmother.
Nor did the holo tricks stop at formal meetings. More than once, an agent found themselves in trouble after having what they believed to be a private conversation with a trusted colleague, lover, or family member, only to discover they’d been conversing with the Director the entire time.
It went without saying that Internal Security wasn’t a pleasant place to work.
Today, the Director popped into existence as a sweet, little curly-haired girl no more than eight years of age. Immediately the darling launched into a temper tantrum of deadly magnitude.
“You people,” the deceivingly innocent looking girl said, “are the biggest group of fuckups in IS history. How the hell did this happen? Which one of you is, was, responsible for the Center’s security?”
A man sheepishly raised his hand. “I am, sir.” His voice was pregnant with fear.
“You have exactly thirty seconds to explain yourself, Deputy Director.” He never used people’s names, only their titles. It was believed to be so he woul
dn’t form any attachment to people he’d likely one day need to get rid of. “I suggest you do so as if your life depended on it.”
“Sir.” The man’s voice cracked from dryness. “We determined that given the nature of the Center, the best way to hide it would be in broad daylight, in a crowd, while in continuous movement. That strategy has worked for some time. It appears someone was tracking it for several days and must’ve finally recognized a recurring similarity or else just got lucky.”
“Thank you for stating the obvious, Deputy Director. What happened to the Center’s security detail? They should’ve been in constant visual contact and reacted the moment it was taken.”
The deputy director cleared his throat. “The team that captured the Center was well-informed, well equipped, trained, and coordinated. By the time the security detail noticed something was wrong, it was gone. They tracked the signal to an apartment and attempted a rescue but all were killed in the action.”
“Yes, they were lucky to meet such a fate while trying to correct their screw-up.” The Director’s tone softened. The avatar’s eyes tightened. “I will take note of this failure, Deputy Director, but you will have another chance to prove your value.”
The nearly-condemned man exhaled a lungful of hot breath. “Thank you, Director,” he proclaimed with genuine emotion.
“Not necessary, Deputy Director.” The Director understood the value of not always bringing the hammer down on underlings. People had a way of tapping new strength when given a second, last, chance. Hope can be a powerful tool. “You may redeem yourself by helping locate the Center’s current location and either extract or eliminate it.”
“Yes, sir. Consider it done.”
“I will not sugarcoat it.” The holo image leaned onto the table. “The loss of the Center is a huge problem. Our operational communications network is handicapped until we can replace it, and the amount of compromised information is staggering.
“We will have to make an untold number of adjustments to our plans to limit potential damage. What’s most troubling is that vital information from our research facility on P-1425X was sent to the Center while it was in enemy hands.
The Last Revenge (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 2) Page 12