“Yes, but we have precious little time.” Grand Armada Leader Bonoti interjected. “I imagine they’ve already noticed a lack of activity from their trading post, so it’s likely they’ve already begun to investigate. We’ve taken steps to ensure that our military presence there can’t be detected with long range scans alone. It is, however, only a matter of time.”
Admiral Sennet brushed a few stray red hairs behind her ear. “Agreed. It’s already been three months, and they might already be on high alert. If we don’t launch Operation Wide Hammer in a few weeks, I think we will need to reexamine our entire strategy.”
“Wide Hammer?”‘ Hido asked the table.
Chen turned to him. “It’s the brainchild of this group. Once we have our primary targets, we will strike them simultaneously at as many as ten major gates, plus a dozen minor attacks against other trading posts we are already aware of. The point is to cripple their military and economic infrastructure beyond repair with one broad blow.”
“Will each target be the subject of a joint attack or will we simply divide them between us?” Trent asked.
“Both,” McBride answered. “The force assigned to their home world will be mixed. The others, divided.”
Sennet said, “We have already designated the Fleet and Armada forces that will hit the home world. We’ve begun conducting joint war games with them. We’ll be ready, we just...”
“Need to know where to hit them.” Trent finished the sentence for her.
“Exactly.”
Following a lengthy and largely unproductive ‘what if’ discussion, the meeting concluded. Before Trent could escape to the Officers Club for a relaxing nightcap, General McBride pulled him aside. “General Maxwell.”
“Yes, sir.”
McBride smirked. “Please, don’t sir me. It doesn’t feel right coming from you. Call me Jack when we’re alone.”
“Yes, Jack.”
“That’s better. I’m having your new orders uploaded to you now.”
Trent paused as he opened the file within his mind. A wide smile appeared.
“I thought you’d like them. The 1st Legion is yours. They arrived a couple days ago. I think you’re going to love how it’s changed.”
“My old 1st Cohort officers are still intact, right?” The concern was clear in his voice.
“Don’t worry, Trent, I’m the last man in the Legion to want to see the Red Barons broken up. You also don’t need to worry about me reassigning your, ah, Bond Mate.” He winked.
“Thank you, I really appreciate that.”
“The least we can do for those of the original 1st Legion. You all lost a lot from the time dilation. I’d hate to make you sever what relationships you have. As for Sergeant Roth … just try not to be obvious about it.”
“Understood.”
***
The beauty of five thousand legionnaires standing in formation in full battle gear is a sight lost on most people. For Trent, it took his breath away.
Standing on a small stage, he reviewed the machine of war. The changes McBride referred to stood out and he couldn’t wait to play with them in the simulator.
“Soldiers of the 1st Legion,” his voice boomed throughout the massive room, “for those of you who are new, my name is General Trenton Maxwell. I am your commanding officer.
“Since your arrival at Alpha Base, you have been briefed that the nature of the war you enlisted to fight has changed. While the enemy has changed, I assure you the stakes and objective have not. We are still here to ensure the survival of the human race, to crush those who wish us harm.
“The Bearcats are our friends and allies in this new war. We have fought side by side and shed blood together. I will not tolerate anyone who cannot put the past behind them. From here on, I hold that any member of this unit who encourages dissent between humanity and the Bearcats to be as significant a threat to our mission as the Kitright themselves. If you cannot treat them as our allies, our comrades, then leave now. You’ll be reassigned without prejudice.
“The time to strike at the heart of our true enemy is close at hand. To prepare all of us for this, we will be spending as much time in the sim chamber as possible. I can guarantee you that you will come to hate me between battles. My job isn’t to be your friend. It’s to win battles and bring as many of you home as possible.
“Now, all of you, except for majors and above, are dismissed for two hours. Enjoy your break, because it will be the last one you have for a while. Senior officers meet me in the sim briefing room. Dismissed.”
As the freed soldiers filed out of the chamber, Trent took special interest in a trio of officers who approached. They snapped to attention. He hugged each one.
“Colonel Jones, that eagle looks pretty nice on you. Majors Thomas and Simms, I trust your ranks agree with you as well?”
“Most certainly, sir,” Simms replied.
“How are the new limbs?” Trent asked Simms, who had lost both legs and arms in the final fight before jumping home.
“Still getting used to them. It feels like between them and the nanos, I’ve graduated to a full-fledged cyborg.”
“I’m sure you’re still human enough for Thomas.”
“Barely, but he’ll do for now.” She jabbed her elbow into her lover’s ribs.
Her loving insult reminded Trent of the couple’s early days together, when they were continuously bickering before realizing they loved each other.
Trent opened his mouth to say something to Jones when a young Fleet lieutenant lingering outside the chamber’s wide doors caught his eye.
Her appearance froze him stiff.
Her face, brown eyes, and brunette hair shook him to the very core. Somehow, some way, he was looking at a perfect recreation of his beloved daughter Anna.
He fell into a daze. Ignoring the growing group of senior officers trying to communicate, he drifted toward the woman.
Junior officers and enlisted men looked puzzled at the dumbfounded general. Sergeant Gabriel went to say hello but was stopped in his tracks at the look in Trent’s eyes.
Finally, the Fleet lieutenant noticed her stalker as he came to within a meter of her. She jolted into rigid attention.
Trent just stared at her, unable to look away.
This is not possible. She’s exactly how Anna looked after I returned from Big Red. Am I seeing things? Am I losing it?
Confused, the lieutenant spoke. “Can I help you, sir?”
Her words lifted enough of his mental fog for him to think to look at her name tag. “Susan Ross,” he said out loud.
The name sounds so familiar. But where and why is it so important?
The connection clicked, manifesting itself as he stared at the woman and muttered, “Trenton Ross.”
“Yes, sir. He is my great-grandfather.”
“Then I imagine you know who I am.”
“Yes, sir. You’re my great-great grandfather.”
Chapter Eighteen
Family
The steward escorted Lt. Susan Ross to one of the private dining rooms in the back of the Officers Club. Trent nervously watched the young woman cut her way through the main dining room with quite a bit of anxiety.
He kept having to remind himself that the woman in Fleet grays approaching his table was not Anna. He knew, deep down, that no matter how strong a bond he managed to form with Susan, it could never replace the one he had lost with his daughter. An utterly illogical part of him hoped the opposite would prove possible.
The white-coated steward stepped aside and gestured for her to proceed toward the door. A part of him saddened when she snapped to attention as he stood, further proof she was not Anna.
“At ease, Lieutenant.” He stifled a tear, unwilling to let his churning emotions show. “Please, come in and have a seat.”
Susan maintained a rigid, professional demeanor as she entered the room and sat in the indicated chair. He joined her, and the waiter filled their wine glasses before leaving, to give th
em privacy.
She gently lifted her glass to sniff its contents. “Is this real wine?” She took a tiny sip as if it might burn her.
“Yes,” He held the glass to his nose before swirling the glass and taking a sip. “Napa Valley cabernet, if I am not mistaken, 2270 vintage.”
“Impressive.”
With a wry smile, he said, “Not really. That’s what it says on the label.” He indicated the bottle.
She let out a soft laugh.
Just like Anna.
“You didn’t have to do this, sir,” she said, looking seriously across the table. “This dinner has to be costing you a small fortune. Getting real wine and fresh meat and vegetables on the station isn’t cheap.”
“It’s nothing, really. Between back pay and compound interest, money isn’t much of a concern for me. Besides, how else am I going to spend it?”
“I could think of a few ways, sir.”
Trent cut into his rare steak, and Susan followed his lead.
“Please, when we’re alone, I would appreciate if you would call me Trent.”
“Sir...I mean, Trent...may I be frank?”
“By all means. This is private, no formalities. Speak freely.”
“Thank you.” She set her knife and fork down and leaned forward. “What exactly do you want from me? I’m not her. I’ve been told I look like her, but I’m not your daughter.”
The honest question and statement sliced into him like a cold blade.
“I know.” His shoulders slumped. “And I owe you an apology for my behavior outside the sim chamber. It was very unprofessional of me and put you in an awkward situation. You just … took me by surprise. You don’t simply look like her, you look like you are her. My memory of her, anyway. I was in shock.”
“I’m sorry, too. I know you took her death hard, and it certainly wasn’t a normal situation. I was in training and couldn’t be there, but my father told me how much your visit meant to her. I was very fond of her myself, and I was happy you two were able to at least … say good-bye.”
Tears fought to be set free. Biting hard on his lip, he held them off. Unable to talk about that moment, he changed the subject after a gulp of wine. “I honestly can’t say what it is I want from you. I know you’re not my daughter, no matter how hard I might wish it.” Her mouth was open to respond, but he held up a hand to forestall her. “I think the ship has sailed on any sort of traditional great-great-grandfather to great-great-grandchild relationship as well, even if such a thing ever existed. I guess … what I want, what I’m hoping we can become is – family, of some twisted form or another. Maybe kind of like a distant uncle you start to get to know after college.”
The waiter popped his head in to check on the pair, but quickly retreated at a glare from Trent.
“Family,” Susan repeated, hesitantly. “I don’t even know you.”
“Um. No. No, you don’t. That’s a fair point, but I think you may not realize that you and I are in … not dissimilar boats now.”
She swallowed a bite and chewed in silence, simply arching an eyebrow in silent question.
“The family you’ve known your entire life is now an eight-month journey away. Trips to Earth are few and far between. Add in a couple of missions that pervert time and they’re years away. A decade is likely to pass before you see any of them again.”
She slowly chewed on another bite. Her gaze drifted as she considered his words.
He continued, “You’re the closest thing to family I have, now, and sooner than you think, you’ll probably realize the same is true for you.”
Her response was slow. “That’s … a really depressing thought.”
“That’s why it’s not on the recruitment posters.” Hoping to lighten her mood a bit, he asked, “Why did you join up, anyway?”
She picked up her wine glass, swirling it around before taking a sip. Buying some time to consider her answer. “I guess I don’t really have a good answer. It’s kind of like I couldn’t imagine doing anything else with my life. I always wanted to be a fighter pilot. My family certainly didn’t approve. They even invoked your memory a time or two to try to discourage me, but nothing else seemed right.”
He tightened his eyes. “Like you were born for war?”
“Yeah, kinda. How about you? Why did you join the old American Army?”
. He raised his glass. “Oh, Susan, I think you’ll learn that we have a lot more in common than you think right now.”
***
Poking away on a sheet of e-paper, Trent jotted some thoughts and ideas for the day’s sim training that was scheduled to begin in half an hour.
The door chime sounded.
“Come in,” he responded with barely a thought, continuing to stare down at his work.
“Where the hell were you last night?” The accuser’s voice needed no introduction.
He looked up at Amanda with the blank stare of ignorance that has been pissing off women for millennia.
When he didn’t answer, she said, “You don’t even know what I’m talking about, do you?”
She gripped the edge of the desk. Her red-hot gaze was scary as hell. She appeared even more intimidating, dressed as she was in her green battle suit with MRG slung over a shoulder.
“Well?” she asked, her patience clearly growing thin.
“Oh, shit.” It hit him. “Last night! I completely forgot about our date last night. I’m so sorry, baby...”
“Don’t baby me. I waited for you for two hours!”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
She jerked her body, straightening her stance and crossing her arms as she looked over his head. “Gee, why didn’t I think of that? Oh wait, I did.” Her eyes bored into him again. “I called a dozen times, only you had your com on ‘emergency only.’”
“Oh,” he muttered as the awesome gravity of his fuck-up sank in.
“So... what were you doing last night?”
The calm tone in which Amanda asked the question and her knowing stare hinted at what she was doing. She already knew what he’d done last night. She’d just laid a trap to see if he was dumb enough to try and lie about it—a tactic employed by women since their gender learned to talk.
“Okay, just hold on.” Trent rose with his palms out, almost as if to show he wasn’t armed. “It’s not what you think.”
She tossed her arms in the air. “What the hell am I supposed to think? This station is a small town, and I’m no fool. First, I hear you just about pissed yourself with excitement over some Fleet tramp. Then I hear you treated her to an expensive dinner. When was the last time you took me out to a nice dinner?”
He laughed. He know that would only piss her off more, but he couldn’t help himself.
“It’s not funny, asshole,” she spat.
Amanda reached across the desk and shoved him, forcing him back into his chair.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just that that woman is Susan Ross. As in Trenton Ross’ great-granddaughter.”
The name sent Amanda, who was at Trent’s side the day he met his extended family, into deep thought. A light of revelation and relief washed over her face. Her shoulders relaxed.
“She’s your granddaughter.” Amazement was evident in her softer tone.
“Great-great-granddaughter, to be exact. After the review, I saw her just walking around. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her who she was. Had to be. She looks so much like Anna it was like … like looking at a ghost.”
She came around the desk and planted herself on it in front of him, putting a hand on his thigh. “So how was dinner?”
“I think it went well. Told her I’d really like to get to know her and hopefully become close one day.”
“How did she take that?”
“I don’t think she really knows what to make of me. I explained a couple realities of life in the service to her, and I think that opened her up — a bit — to the idea of having a little slice of family out here.” He pulled her c
lose. “Sorry I forgot about our date. In the shock of seeing Susan and all, it slipped my mind.”
“It’s okay. Under the circumstances, these circumstances, I forgive you. Just don’t make it a habit.”
“I won’t, and I promise to make it up to you.”
Amanda ran her hand further up his thigh. “You could make it up to me now.”
“Here and now?”
“Why not?” She shrugged. “We have twenty minutes till training starts and you’re the general. You can be late if you want.” She started to unbutton his uniform.
“Yeah, but what about you?”
“I can be late too, as long as I’m serving you in an official capacity.”
“Serving? Or servicing? And just how is this an official anything?”
She smiled ear to ear. “Just sit there and I’ll show you.”
Trent didn’t complain about the sudden shift in Amanda’s attitude, from jealous mate to seductress. He definitely wasn’t about to risk a shift back by turning her down now.
Chapter Nineteen
The New Legion
When Trent led humanity’s first strike against the Bearcats on Big Red, he did so with hastily-assembled equipment barely scraped together from the leftovers of Earth’s demobilized national militaries.
Twelve years later, the 1st Legion conquered Black Marble with roughly the same equipment, albeit with a few minor upgrades.
In the decades that he spent trapped in transit to the alternative gate following the Black Marble mission, the recently reactivated military R&D laboratories started turning out improved weapon systems.
The manifestation of these efforts was on display before Trent in the simulation chamber, as the 1st Legion conducted training exercises against hordes of Kitright tripods.
The Legion was now divided into three distinct classes of soldiers instead of the singular type that had formed the first units.
Light infantry composed the majority of the new and improved force, accounting for three thousand, five hundred of the five-thousand man unit. These troopers were equipped pretty much as they had been when the 1st last saw action, save for improvements in nanotech and modifications to the MRGs to counter the Bearcats’ kinetic shielding.
The Last Revenge (The Last Hero Trilogy Book 2) Page 16