In Her Name: The Last War

by Michael R. Hicks

  “Yes, sir.”

  Crossing the flag bridge to the hatch that led to his day cabin was one of the longest treks Sato had ever made in his life. It took every shred of willpower to maintain the appearance of a leader, of a man in control not only of himself but thousands of others. He couldn’t allow his crew to see what was happening to him. He couldn’t.

  As the hatch slid shut behind him, closing him away from the flag bridge, he staggered and barely caught himself on his desk. One of the perquisites of being a commodore was that he had a small private viewport and a couch on which to enjoy the view outside. Slumping onto the couch, he stared through the clearsteel window at the bright disk of Alger’s World. At any other time, it would have been a beautiful sight.

  “Steph.” Her name caught in his throat as his heart hammered in his chest. “It’s my fault,” he whispered to the world below where the woman he loved had died. And he hadn’t even known that she’d been involved in the mission. “If I hadn’t pushed you away, you never would have done this. Or if you had, at least you would have told me. I would have known.” He clenched his fists so hard the knuckles bled white. “I could have told you how much I loved you one last time.”

  The beautiful clouds of Alger’s World were reflected in the tears of the man who commanded humanity’s most powerful warships as he wept, his heart broken.

  * * *

  After leaving Sparks, Mills had hoped to make his way back to the woods that led toward the camp when the Kreelans attacked. Their air assault trick had given him the shakes, remembering what had happened to his old Legion regiment on Keran, but fortunately he had been clear of that little dance.

  He had nearly made it to the edge of the landing zone when the mass wave attack had come from the woods, and he had been caught up in the melee. Luckily, he was on the very edge of the Kreelan line, but he hadn’t been able to break contact as he had intended. The senior NCOs and handful of officers in this part of the Marine line had been killed. The Marines were still fighting valiantly, but they had no one to lead them and were quickly giving ground. In only a few more minutes the Kreelans would have been in a position to break through and attack the Marine line from the rear.

  Mills had glanced longingly at the woods, then turned his attention to rallying the Marines.

  “Stand and fight!” He bellowed over and over again as he waded into the enemy, his head and shoulders standing above most of the warriors. His only weapon was the sniper rifle, and it was useless in a close-in fight.

  So he’d unslung it and, holding it by the barrel, began using it like a huge baseball bat. He wasn’t killing any warriors with it, but he was able to knock them off balance, giving the other Marines a chance to dive in to blast and hack away at the enemy.

  “Bleeding Christ!” Two warriors lunged at him at once. He knocked the first one senseless with the butt of the rifle, but the second used the opportunity to thrust her sword at him. He twisted to the side, managing to keep the tip from running him through, but the blade sliced through the muscle of his right side, just above his hip.

  Hissing with pain, he pivoted around, closer to the warrior, too close for her to use her sword effectively. Using the bulk of his body to shove her off-balance, he viciously slammed the rifle butt into the side of her head, sending her flying to the side. He didn’t bother finishing her off, trusting the Marines behind him to take care of that little detail.

  Another group of Marines had pushed forward, joining Mills and his group in the fray. One of the newcomers had the black bar insignia of a first lieutenant.

  “Lieutenant!” Mills’s voice was raw, and it was hard to shout loud enough for anyone to hear him beyond a few feet amid the raging shouts and screams around them. “Lieutenant!”

  The man turned his head, glancing at Mills, just as a warrior leaped over the top of a trio of Marines and came flying at the lieutenant, her sword pointed at his neck.

  Mills could only be impressed as the young officer calmly raised his rifle and blasted her in mid-air.

  “Can I help you, first sergeant?” He looked over at Mills as the bullet-riddled corpse of the warrior landed at his feet.

  “Would you mind taking over this lot?” Mills nodded at the Marines he’d brought with him. “I have a little something special I’m supposed to be doing with this.” He held up the sniper rifle, then jabbed the barrel into the ear of a warrior who was about to get the upper hand against one of his Marines. Thrown off balance, she tumbled to the ground, where the Marine finished her off with a bayonet thrust to the gut.

  “Roger that. I relieve you, first sergeant!”

  “Thank you, sir!”

  After a few close calls, Mills was able to work his way around the end of the melee without drawing undue attention from the Kreelans, who now had their clawed hands full with the Marines.

  Fighting against gnawing exhaustion and the pain from the wound in his side, he finally made it back to the woods from which he so recently had escaped.

  CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

  Valentina, Steph, and Allison had been taken to the dais in the middle of the central and largest arena. There, they awaited their fate, surrounded by alert warriors.

  “I think I finally got the bleeding stopped.” Valentina wiped her forehead, leaving a smudge of blood. She’d been trying to staunch the blood from the wound in Steph’s leg, but all she had to work with was the material from their uniforms. The Kreelans had taken everything else.

  She’d torn up the cleanest sections of her uniform blouse to use for bandages to stop the bleeding, then used the lower half of her undershirt and the now-empty combat belt as a final clean bandage, wrapping it around Steph’s leg and cinching it tight. “The throwing star must have clipped a vein, but that’s the best that I can do.”

  “Thanks.” Steph was conscious again, but very pale and weak, both from the loss of blood and the pain.

  “Does it hurt?” Allison knelt behind Steph, letting Steph’s head rest on her legs, rather than on the cold stone of the dais.

  “Only a little.” Steph smiled at her own lie and reached up to take one of Allison’s hands, giving the girl a little squeeze that proved to be a herculean effort. Then she turned back to Valentina and nodded her head toward the warriors guarding them. “What do you think they’re going to do?”

  “Them? Nothing. They’re just making sure we stay put.”

  “They’re waiting for her.” Allison looked in the direction of the landing zone and the sounds of the battle that raged there. The sky beyond the trees lit up with glares and flashes of weapons being fired. She turned to Valentina. “When she’s done with the Marines over there, she’ll come back here. For you.”

  “I hate to say it, Allison, but I think you’re right.” Valentina took a closer look at the warriors around them, gauging her chances.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Steph whispered. “You’re good, Valentina, but you’re not that good. And Allison and I wouldn’t stand a chance.”

  “You’re assuming we have a chance either way.”

  “All I know is that as long as you’re alive, we’ve got a hope of making it out of this. But if something happens to you...”

  “We’re dead.” Allison finished the thought.

  “What about when the warrior with the dead eyes comes back? You know I can’t beat her.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Steph grimaced as a sudden lance of pain shot through her leg. “But we still might teach the king’s horse to sing.”

  Valentina couldn’t help herself. She laughed.

  “What does that mean?” Allison had no idea what Steph was talking about.

  “She means that she believes in miracles.” Valentina smiled and shook her head. “Even now.”

  “Yes.” Steph looked up into the darkening sky as a set of bright points of light that she knew must be Confederation warships passed overhead in low orbit. “Yes, I do.”

  * * *

  Ku’ar-Marekh’s warriors su
rged forward, smashing into the human warriors with a ring of steel on steel, punctuated with the staccato fire of the human weapons.

  While some priestesses allowed their warriors to use rifles and other such weapons, Ku’ar-Markeh held them in contempt. The far greater challenge was to close with and slay a superior enemy with sword and claw. Many more warriors died than might have otherwise, but simple victory was not the Way of the warrior. The warriors among Her Children were born to glorify her in battle, and to die with honor.

  As she moved forward toward the battle line to blood her own sword against the humans, she sensed the arrival of the fleet bearing the additional warriors she had summoned days before. The new warriors would be pleased to know there were now many human warriors here to fight, assuming the shipmistresses could hold off the human fleet long enough to land the warriors.

  It will be an interesting challenge, she thought as she lunged into the melee, her sword drawing its first blood against the humans.

  * * *

  “Commodore to the bridge!”

  Sato sat bolt upright, then got to his feet. The tears were long gone. His heart was dead and his soul was empty, and the computing machine that his brain had become filled the void with a cold yearning for vengeance on the creatures who had taken everything from him.

  “Status?” He strode onto the flag bridge, his eyes immediately going to the main tactical display.

  “One of the destroyers on picket duty just reported that enemy ships have emerged on the far side of the planet.” The flag tactical officer came up beside him. “Ten destroyers, eight cruisers, and four large vessels that appear to be transports.”

  “Orders from the flag?” Sato focused his attention on the four transports, imagining the massive shells of the Orion venting its troop compartments to space and annihilating the thousands of warriors who must be aboard.

  “The admiral ordered that we maintain position covering our carriers, sir. He’s ordering the cruisers and destroyers from Home Fleet to engage.”

  Restraining the urge to clench his fists in frustration, Sato only nodded. Orion and her sisters were in formation above the precious carriers and the remaining assault boats that had yet to drop to the surface. They had not received any additional targets, only the enemy force that Sparks was engaging near Breakwater. “Very well. Maintain condition two throughout the flotilla and-”

  “Emerging contacts!” The tactical officer’s call was punctuated with a flurry of yellow icons appearing on the tactical display. “Contacts close aboard!”

  The display that showed a video feed looking out over the bow of the ship was filled with a Kreelan cruiser that the Orion’s captain just barely managed to avoid. The enemy ship’s luminous green flanks and rune markings slid past on a reciprocal course, her guns and lasers flashing as she fired. Orion shuddered as the shells struck, but her thick armor shrugged them off.

  The cruiser had plenty of company. Over thirty enemy vessels had emerged from hyperspace right on top of the battleships and their escorts.

  Sato quickly took in the situation on the tactical display as the Orion’s captain opened fire with the battleship’s secondary weapons on the cloud of enemy warships.

  But the nearby Kreelan ships weren’t what he was most concerned about. A dozen enemy cruisers were pulling away, heading straight for the carriers and the cloud of assault boats, which began to dive toward the surface like a school of terrified minnows.

  The destroyers and cruisers escorting the carriers turned to engage, but would be hard-pressed to stop the attacking enemy ships before they were in weapons range of the carriers.

  And the carriers were too low in the planet’s gravity well to jump away, and were too slow to run.

  Sato didn’t have any good choices. He could take his battleships after the cruisers pursuing the carriers, which would leave the other enemy warships around him free to overwhelm his escorts and pour fire into the exposed sterns of the battleships as they turned. Or he could fight the Kreelan ships here and hope that the carrier escorts managed to carry the day.

  Looking at the balance of power in the looming engagement, the escorts were going to be badly outgunned.

  There was one other possibility that he was loathe to do, but there was little choice. He had to split the battleship flotilla. It would divide his combat power, but if he could pin down the enemy ships here with two of the battleships, the other two would be able to maneuver to help the carriers.

  Sato turned to his flag captain as the ship staggered under a heavy hit and alarms began to blare. “Order Captain Abdullah to take Monarch and Conqueror to help protect the carriers. Thunderer is to follow us in trail, with our escorts covering her stern.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” The flag captain’s expression made it clear he wasn’t at all convinced of the wisdom of Sato’s orders, but he obeyed.

  Sato called up the Orion’s captain on his comm panel. She was on the ship’s bridge two decks below. “Captain Semyonova, Orion is now in the lead of the first division. Thunderer is behind us. Make your heading zero-four-three mark seven-zero.”

  A trajectory line appeared on the tactical display, which was now zoomed in to show the action around the two battleships as their sisters pulled away. The white line curved right through the center of the Kreelan formation, a cloud of red icons.

  Sato was going to take the battleships right down the enemy’s throat. “Monarch and Conqueror are maneuvering to protect the carriers, and we need to pin down the enemy here. The flag tactical officer will provide you targeting cues so we don’t fire on the same targets, but use your discretion. Fight your ship, captain.”

  “Aye, aye, sir.” The small image of Semyonova’s face nodded once, then disappeared.

  The ship rang and boomed as enemy shells slammed into her heavy armor, and were answered in turn by her own fire. The secondary guns, as big as those fitted on cruisers, fired non-stop, punctuated by the hum of the point defense lasers as they sought to blast enemy shells before they hit.

  As the formation split, Orion and Thunderer opened fire with their main batteries at the more distant targets of the Kreelan formation, tongues of flame shooting hundreds of meters from the muzzles of the thirty centimeter guns as they sent their massive shells toward their targets.

  The space outside the view screen was an enormous pyrotechnic display, with shells and lasers streaking across the darkness, flaring into explosions as they hit their targets.

  Sato looked out the forward view screen at the beautiful, yet terrible sight as Orion and Thunderer advanced with all guns blazing, seeking to tear out the enemy’s heart.

  * * *

  Ku’ar-Marekh’s sword whirled and slashed, killing the human warriors who swarmed toward her. She had never been a great swordmistress among the high priestesses. Nonetheless, her skills were far superior to that of the peers. Here, now, her warriors watched in awe as their priestess laid low their enemies in the time-honored tradition.

  She had to keep moving or she would have had to reach over a pile of corpses to continue killing. Many of the humans fired their primitive weapons at her, but the projectiles simply melted and fell to the ground. It was a power she could not consciously control. Had she been able, she would have abandoned it, for it might have brought an honorable death sooner.

  The humans were indeed worthy opponents, she admitted to herself. Ferocious and fearless, they grappled with her warriors, and with her. Great would be the funeral pyres for the fallen after this day, for even though the humans were soulless creatures whose blood did not sing, she would see that these were honored in death.

  To her left, she saw a sudden blaze of lightning as one of her warriors finally reached one of the huge battle machines that were so prized as a kill among her warriors. She felt the warrior’s dying ecstasy through the Bloodsong as the machine took her life. Then the humans inside it died in their turn, burned alive by the cyan energy that swept through the machine’s metal body.


  Emboldened and encouraged, more warriors surged forward, struggling to break through the line of humans who sought to hold them back.

  “Forward, my children!” Her bellow carried over the storm of shrieks and curses, the gunfire and explosions that echoed across the smoke-shrouded battlefield.

  With a final, massive surge, the warriors broke through the human line. First in a trickle, then in a torrent of swords and claws they broke onto the hallowed ground where the war machines had squatted, useless unless they wished to kill their own kind.

  She watched as the things began to back away, their ungainly metal tracks creaking as they sought to escape. They could move faster than her warriors could run, but they would not be able to escape the droves of new warriors who even now were making their final approach to join this battle.

  Hurling a shrekka and beheading a human who had strayed too close, she stayed where she was, allowing her warriors the honor of the kill as the quickest among them readied their grenades to attack the great machines.

  * * *

  “Now!” Sparks had his attention focused not on the rapidly approaching wave of howling warriors, but on the Marines they had passed by.

  As one, the Marines dropped to the ground, most of them seeking what shelter might be given by their fallen comrades and dead aliens.

  Like the other Wolverines, Sparks’s tank was backing up, moving erratically, hoping to give the impression they were panicking. The vehicles were moving just fast enough that the warriors dashing toward them were gaining on them.

  The timing was going to be close.

  Dozens of cyan glows appeared along the approaching line of alien warriors as they readied their hellish grenades.

  “Steady...” Sparks’s voice was calm, even though his own gut was clenched in a steel vise. He had seen up close what the Kreelan grenades could do to a tank and its crew, but he wanted to let the enemy get in close, to point-blank range. “Steady...”

  The nearest warriors cocked their arms back, preparing to throw.

  “Now!”