The Last Hero (3 page)

Chapter 3: The Pentagon

hat
time is the press conference?” Trent asked.

They were in a government car, riding through the streets of Washington D.C. Those strolling along the sidewalks barely gave them a glance. Street vendors called out their wares, people spoke to each other as they waited for traffic signals to change, an absolutely normal world was outside the confines of this vehicle he wanted to abandon.

“It’s in four hours in front of the Pentagon” Commander Andersen replied. “You cut it real close getting here. Wish you had come in the night before.”

“I just told my wife that our marriage was pretty much over, and she would soon be a single mother. You can take your concern and shove it.”

“Now, now, Major. That’s no way for an Earth Legion officer to talk.”

Trent turned his head to look at Andersen. After a second, when the higher ranking officer didn’t back off his outrageous response, Trent returned his attention to the Potomac River they were now crossing.

“It’s nice to be promoted already, but what the hell is the Earth Legion?”

“It’s what the army is going to be called. There is the Colonial Fleet, and now the Earth Legion. The structure is going to be roughly based on the Roman model. Legion for division, cohort for regiment, centuries for companies, and so on.”

Trent replied, “Stupid question. Why the hell does the army of the future reach back a couple thousand years for its name and structure?”

“It’s a sound model. Honestly, the real reason is all PR.”

“Seems to be a trend these days.”

“Tell me about it. I would much rather have one of the new warships they’re planning to build than deal with this crap all the time. Although, the logic behind it does make some sense.

“For the first several years of this war, it will pretty much be an American effort. Our forces were the most powerful the world ever knew, naturally we’re the best equipped to get this whole thing started. Plus, our draw down wasn’t as complete as advertised.” He winked at Trent. “We left some pieces of military infrastructure in place and have been quietly bringing it back to life. That’s why the Pentagon is being repurposed, back to military use. It will be the nerve center for the Fleet and Legion.

“This is a global effort. We’ll be drawing on the resources of the whole planet. We’re doing some cosmetic things to make it look less American.”

The car pulled into the Pentagon parking lot, stopping in front of the main entrance.

“Let’s get you ready for the press.”

“What am I supposed to do at this thing?” 

“Look tough, like you can’t wait to start fighting again.”

***

Trent didn’t know if he looked tough. He spent the entire press conference standing behind the Secretary General, trying not to sweat too much under the late June sun in his brand new, all black, Legion uniform.

At first sight, it reminded him of the Nazi SS
uniforms used in World War II. He hoped no one else would make the same connection.
Not exactly the smartest PR decision for a bunch of people who seemed consumed by little more.

When the Secretary mentioned him by name, Trent stepped forward into a blizzard of bright lights emanating from a phalanx of holo recorders focused on him. Other than that, he stood there trying to look tough.

Whatever the hell that means.

For now, the bullshit part of his new assignment was over. It was time to start building an army, or legion for that matter. Man would once again don the cloak of warrior. Trent felt excited to be part of it. The thrill of returning to military service also made him feel guilty. He already missed Madison and Anna.

“Let’s get started,” said an older black man with silver hair. He stood at the front of the large wooden conference table surrounded by men and woman in black and gray uniforms. The room was buried deep within the bowels of the Pentagon.

Trent knew the man as General Fairbanks, the last Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Now he was the top commander of a military force that could just about fit into the meeting room where he stood.

Not one for meetings and anxious to get to the heart of matters concerning his mission, Trent raised his hand.

“Yes, Major?” Fairbanks said. His deep voice alone commanded respect.

“Sorry if I’m jumping the gun here, but...my mission. Who is on my team and where are we going, sir?”

“Have no fear, Major. Your mission is our top priority. We want to get you and your unit off planet in two months.”

“Two months! Sir...if I may? That seems like an awfully short timetable. I have no idea who is on my team. It will take us time to train and develop some type of unit cohesion, and that’s after we form.”

“Your team is being formed as we speak. They should be here in five days...”

“Who are they?” Trent asked.

“I was getting to that,
Major
,” Fairbanks shot back, reminding Trent of his place in the reformed military hierarchy. “They’ll all be former military. We’re trying to recruit several members of your team from South Africa. We won’t know how many of them take us up on the offer for a couple of days. The rest will come from a variety of other countries. I’m told it will send a nice message if the first legion unit is composed of several different nations.”

Trent was glad to detect the general’s distain for PR.

“Does that answer your question?”

“Yes, but I still don’t know the where.”

“Ahh, yes, the where.” Fairbanks strolled around the table. “Computer, bring up sector 00159-2.”

The holo display function of the conference table kicked in. First, it showed the galaxy and then the scene rapidly zoomed in on the specific solar system Fairbanks’ numbers referred to.

“Computer, highlight the fourth planet.”

The display enlarged the planet. Trent stared at it, and it seemed to stare back at him. It was beautiful in its own way. It looked a lot like Mars, but with massive oceans and white clouds.

“This is where you’re going. We strongly believe there’s an enemy base on this world. Your mission will be to drop in in advance of the Fleet strike force, gather intel on the enemy, and aid in the primary assault.”

“If I may, sir? How do we know there is an enemy base on this planet? We learned about this race only after they attacked New Earth. I leave in two months. What strike force? There’s no way the Fleet will have warships by then.”

“All questions I would ask if I was in your shoes. As you know, we have hundreds of probes out in deep space mapping the universe. After New Earth, we shot commands to all of them through the gate, ordering them to report back immediately with all of their data. Specifically, we were looking for a type of signal the New Earth defense grid detected. It’s a marker for their tech. Find the signal, you’ve found their tech; find their tech and you’ve found them.”

Fairbanks finished a slow walk around the table and again stood at its head.

“You’re exactly right about the Fleet or the Legion for that matter. It’s going to take a decade to get Earth on a proper war footing. That’s why this little piece of space is so special, so right for this mission.

“Computer, back out to system map, wide view. See here?” Fairbanks pointed at a clump of dark matter. “This is a gate right on top of the planet. We believe they have it heavily fortified. Come through there, and you have a fight on your hands. We could have a ship heading through that gate in a year. But we don’t have a Fleet, and more importantly we don’t know a damn thing about the enemy.

“Over here.” Fairbanks shifted his finger to deep space, outside the system. “Is a gate ten light years from the planet. It’s unusual to find a planet with two gates so close together. Either the enemy doesn’t know about the other gate, or they don’t consider it a threat because of its location. This is the gate you will jump through.”

“Excuse me...it’s ten light years away,” Trent said.

Fairbanks chuckled. “Don’t worry, Major. This is a rare situation where relativity comes in handy. You jump through the gate and then make your way to the system. The ten years of travel near the speed of light will only seem like a month. Once you get to the system’s outskirts, your ship will drop you off in a shuttle. From there, you will sneak up on the target using the other planets and asteroid belts as cover. That will take you another two months.

“You’ll drop in and survey the enemy base, gathering all the intel you can about them. After two weeks, you beam all of the data you collect through the sub-space link at the far gate. That is relayed through the gate to Alpha, where your intel will find a waiting armada of warships and legionnaires that we spend the next ten years building.”

“Then what?”

“Then we take two days to quickly review the data before we jump through the gate near the planet with guns blazing. Once that happens, I suggest that you start killing as many of the enemy as you can.”

All the moving parts of the plan made Trent nervous.

“I just hope the enemy will still be there when we arrive, or the base isn’t so well defended that you can’t punch through.”

“War is never without its risks, Major. Now...any more questions?”

“Just one.”

Fairbanks cocked his head to one side, surprised the major didn’t fully appreciate the tone in which he asked if he had any more questions. Trent got the tone all right. He just didn’t care. By the time he got back, if he came back, Fairbanks would be retired again.

“What now?”

“The enemy? What are we calling them?”

“Oh. We’ve taken to calling them Bearcats.”

Chapter 4: The Team

ou
ready to meet the team, sir?”

His face buried in reports, the sound of the feminine, but husky British accented voice pulled Trent’s attention from the sheets of e-paper. Looking up from the files, he studied the burly woman standing before him.  

Captain Nina Jones was a man of a woman. A seasoned veteran of the British Army, she stood a few centimeters shy of two meters tall and had a cute face, if not for the bad teeth. Trent didn’t understand how in the late 22nd century, the British hadn’t adopted better dental care techniques.  

“Yes, Captain. I’ve been looking forward to it for a while. What do they look like to you?”

“Well, sir, I would say the Bearcats are going to remember the day they met us, but all those we meet will be dead. So it’s a moot point.”

“That’s the attitude. I take it everyone is seated in the meeting room.”

Jones nodded.

“Then let’s get to it.”

The fifty men and woman making up the lead element of the Earth Legion waited in a briefing room with stadium seating in one of the newly reopened sections of the Pentagon.

From outside the room, Trent could hear laughter and loud conversations. Buried deep within each voice, he heard suppressed fear at the coming mission. This didn’t concern him. Soldiers who experience the proper amount of fear were sharper than some nut case who would get his unit killed by doing something stupid, in an effort to show everyone how brave they were.

Trent also took heart in the numerous conversations; the unit was bonding. He felt saddened that the easygoing camaraderie would end the second he stepped into the room.

Jones looked annoyed at the delay outside the door, but he paid no attention.

After a few more seconds spent eavesdropping, he quickly opened the door and briskly walked toward the podium. The noise in the room shut off without a single lingering sound. Trent reached the podium and set his tablet down before gripping each side. Slowly looking side to side, he took stock of the men and woman he would lead, not so much into battle, but into the unknown.

They represented a diverse sampling of humanity. Before him were former soldiers in the U.S., Russian, British, German, Colombian, Japanese, Nigerian, Israeli, and Australian militaries. But here they sat, legionnaires of Earth. Willing to fight and die for the same cause against a common enemy.

Guess we really aren’t all that different after all.

A few of the faces Trent recognized. Nine survivors from the South Africa mission signed up. He couldn’t have been happier to have them aboard and wished more had answered the call but didn’t blame them for standing down.

“Good morning,” he began. “As you’ve probably guessed I’m Major Trent Maxwell. I’m your commanding officer. I promise to be brief so we can get to the real work. We have a lot to do and very little time to do it.” Trent gestured to his left. “This is your XO, Captain Nina Jones. I must say, looking out at all of your faces...this has to be the most eclectic group of sons-of-bitches ever assembled for war.”

Grins formed across many of the faces. Some looked around at their comrades in arms.

“I don’t have to tell you how special this unit is. Both for the fighting skill we’ve all shown in the past and for what we represent in the history of our species. This distinction, as well as what’s at stake means failure is not an option. We are fighting for our species’ right to exist.”

The grins disappeared, replaced by looks of sheer determination.

“In all of the military units where we once served, medals and awards of varying types were given to soldiers who went above and beyond the call of duty. Here in the Legion, there will be no such medals, only mission ribbons, unique to each operation.

“The reason for this is that’s assumed nothing in this war is above and beyond the call of duty. Our call is to fight to prevent our people’s extinction. Our duty is to do
whatever
is necessary to fulfill our call. If that means you must sacrifice yourself to accomplish a mission, then that’s what is expected of you. If victory demands that I sacrifice this entire unit, including myself, then I will.

“Make no mistake. I don’t hold your lives cheap, nor will I ever be careless with them. I just want you to understand the full gravity of the situation before us.

“Before we dismiss for our squad level weapons briefing, I want you all to see something, information that hasn’t been released to the general public regarding the attack on New Earth. After you see it, you will truly appreciate my words.”

The holo display on the stage activated for the assembled warriors. Despite their experience with combat and death, the images left fresh scars.

Once the horrors ended, Trent retook the podium.

“Now you understand. When things get tough, and I promise you that they will. When you think you can’t continue on, and I promise that time will come. I want you to think of someone you care about back here on Earth. Think about what will become of them if these things, these beasts get past us. Cause the only way they are getting here is through me. As long as my lungs draw breath, I will
fight
,” He slammed his fist down. “Dismissed.”

***

Trent stood to the side of the podium watching the group disperse. He noticed several legionnaires walking toward him. He eagerly hopped off the front of the stage to greet the one closest with a firm salute followed by a big smile and hearty handshake. The man’s tanned skin brimmed with muscles and confidence.

“Sergeant Henderson, damn glad you were crazy enough to sign up for this little trip of ours.” Trent surveyed the group of former Ranger buddies forming a semi-circle around him. “Damn glad to see all of you.”

“Well sir, I kinda felt like I owed you one,” said an average height legionnaire, carrying a couple extra pounds brought on by civilian life.

“Corporal Stan Gabriel, how’s the thigh?”

“Fine, sir. Thanks again for pulling my ass off that South African beach.”

“Hell, Corporal. I should be the one saying thanks. If it wasn’t for you, I might never have become famous. Your bullet to the ass turned out to be a million credit injury...for me.” Trent joked in reference to his personal rescue of Gabriel while under intense enemy fire.

Chuckles echoed all around the room.

“I seriously doubt they would have let you get off that easily, sir,” Henderson said. “With the way you executed our mission in South Africa, those Army press corps jokers would’ve found another reason to pin a shiny Medal of Honor on you.”

“The way
we
executed the mission, Sergeant, but I’m afraid we’ll all look back upon that one as a vacation. This is a fight that will lead us all directly to the gates of hell.”

Henderson said, “Don’t sweat it, Major. Me and the guys here will happily follow you there, storm the gates, and bitch slap Satan just for kicks.”

Laughing Trent replied, “That just might turn out to be necessary, Sergeant. It just might.”

“I just hope the food on this trip is better than our old MREs.” Gabriel rubbed his stomach. “I’ve worked too hard on this energy reserve to let it go to waste.”