The Last Hero

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No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

Cover Art:
Michele Crocker

http://mlcdesigns4you.weebly.com/

Publisher’s Note:

This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are the work of the author’s imagination.

Any resemblance to real persons, places, or events is coincidental.

Solstice Publishing - www.solsticepublishing.com

Copyright 2014 Nathaniel Danes

The Last Hero Trilogy

Book 1

By

Nathaniel Danes

Dedication

To my daughter, the center of my universe.

Chapter 1: Visitors

S
crolling down a sheet of e-paper Trent attempted to look up a new client’s information from the comfort of his office. Another day in the insurance business, another life insurance policy sold.

Life wasn’t always this exciting.

Closing his eyes, Trent briefly escaped the boring task by remembering more exciting times. A time when U.S. Army Ranger Captain Trent Maxwell led soldiers into combat.

Like he was born to do.

The thrill of the fight, exuberance of victory, and the glory it brought him were fleeting sensations in a world fast doing away with war. Still, those times left a lasting impression on a man who only ever wanted to be a soldier. The memories sustained him in this peaceful life like a reservoir.

The past is in the past.

Now he considered himself a different man. A family man who still had a client’s information to look up. Opening his eyes, Trent went back to work.

Exchanging battlefield glory for his father-in-law’s insurance company in Naperville, Illinois, a nice quiet commuter town, wasn’t how Trent pictured his life. The final stages of the American military’s disbandment in 2178 forced the issue.

At first, the slower pace stung, but five years of soft civilian life had changed Trent. Or so he thought.

The insurance business paid well and the hours allowed an abundance of family time. A commodity he now held in high regard. Quality time with his daughter, Anna, was the most important part of the day. Despite being a decorated war hero, Trent found it no chore humbling himself to play dolls, dress up, or host an imaginary tea party with his little girl, who kept her doting father firmly wrapped around her tiny finger.

Trent stopped working again, setting the e-paper down on the leather cushion next to him. He often avoided working at his desk, preferring the comfort and view of his office’s couch, which provided a pleasant setting to work on new client information, a common duty. The multiple “Salesperson of the Year” awards hanging on the tan wall testified to this fact.

Truth be told, which Trent could at least admit to himself, he wasn’t half the salesperson as most of the other agents in the firm. Selling insurance came easily to him, a lingering effect of the minor celebrity status he achieved after the South Africa mission. Resentment burned in the eyes of his fellow agents, who worked harder for fewer results. He couldn’t blame them, but he also wasn’t about to apologize for it.

Intent on finishing the work, so he could head out at four to pick Anna up at school, he reached for the sheet of e-paper but was interrupted by Becky, the office’s tall and slim receptionist.

“Trent, there are two men here to see you.”

Crap, I’m not going to get out of here early.

“Are they current or perspective clients?”

“Um...I don’t think they’re interested in buying insurance”

Two men wearing the gray officer uniforms of the Colonial Fleet stepped around Becky and stood in the office doorway.

The term Colonial Fleet was a bit of a misnomer. They really should have been called merchant marines. The “Fleet” consisted of a few cargo ships that ran people and supplies to the colonies. And the colonies numbered just one, New Earth, founded fifteen years ago on a world the Kitright had helped humans locate.

“Captain Maxwell.”

At the reference to his former rank, Becky backed away. The gray uniformed officers of the Fleet entered Trent’s office, closing the door behind them.

Trent’s eyes darted between the two visitors. “Ummm, what can I do for you guys?”

The officer of Asian descent spoke, “Captain Maxwell, I am Commander Andersen. This is Lt. Commander Mitchell. We have an important matter to discuss with you. Before we begin, we must state that this conversation falls under the Planetary Security Act, and therefore is confidential. Repeating the contents of our discussion without our consent will be deemed treason. Do you understand?”

Trent rose, walking over to his desk and partially sitting on the edge. He crossed his arms and tightened his eyes.

“I guess so. What is this about?”

“What do you know about New Earth?” Mitchell asked

“Just what everyone else knows, I guess. It’s the first human colony located at the Bate Prime Gate. Why?”

Andersen stepped forward. “Again, this conversation cannot be repeated. Do you understand?”

Trent nodded with a confused, but concerned look.

“New Earth has been wiped out,” Andersen said pausing for a moment. “The colony has been attacked.”

“What? What are you saying? The Kitright attacked New Earth? Why would they do that?”

The Kitright were a race of pacifists. The idea of them attacking anything seemed beyond comprehension. Trent never would have considered the absurd possibility, but he also understood the short list of suspects. Besides the Kitright, humanity knew of no other race, and the Kitright claimed that after a millennia of searching space, humanity was their only discovery of intelligent life.

“It wasn’t the Kitright,” Mitchell said.

Andersen raised three fingers. “A third race attacked us and killed everyone on New Earth, from what we can tell.”

“What third race?” Trent leaned forward, his hands gripping the edge of his desk.

Mitchell said, “We were kind of hoping you could tell us that.”

“What the hell is he talking about?” Trent jerked a thumb toward Mitchell while looking at the commander. “How am I supposed to know anything about this?”

“He means you’re going to find out for us.”

Trent’s stomach did a back flip.

“Huh? What?”

Andersen shook his head. “Let me break it down for you. It’s complicated. Please bear with me.”

“Oooo-kay.”

“Two weeks ago, we received a signal from the New Earth secondary sub-space link. It relayed the colony’s emergency transponder databank through the Beta Gate to our system’s link. The emergency transponder collects all the data generated by the colony, and once activated all of that information is passed on to home world, allowing us to figure out what happened.”

Trent’s anxiety level grew with every word.

“The New Earth databank contained interrupted scans from their small orbital defense system. The interruption occurred when the source doing the recording was destroyed. We also got the feeds from their landside security holo-recorders.

“There is no mistake about it. New Earth was the deliberate target of a well planned and executed military strike by an advanced alien race unknown to us until now.” Anderson cleared his throat. “The goal of this attack wasn’t to defeat the colony, it was to kill every last human in it—a complete and total extermination.”

Andersen let the revelation settle around the room.

“Holy shit!” Trent shook his head. “Do the Kitright know anything?”

“They were the first people to see the data outside the Colonial Fleet’s High Command,” Mitchell said. “They’re just as much in the dark as we are.”

“A third race?” Trent muttered. “What do you want me for?”

“This attack, this extermination, was not just an act of war. It was a warning to humans that we aren’t welcome in this universe. In response, the Colonial Fleet as directed by the United Nations Security Council, is mobilizing for
war
.”

To Trent, it sounded as if the word rolled off Andersen’s tongue in slow motion. His heart skipped a beat in both excitement and fear.

War. Could it really be war?

Decades ago, after the Kitright unexpectedly jumped through the Alpha Prime Dark Matter Gate with their message of peace and intergalactic solitude, humanity finally began to make peace with itself.

The South Africa mission, where Trent’s legend was born, was the American military’s last hurrah at the tail end of a long, deliberate decline. It, along with every other combat force on Earth, disbanded. Outside a modest automated orbital defense grid and beefed up police forces, Earth was defenseless.

Faced with this current threat, those idealistic choices looked shortsighted. 

“Captain Maxwell,” Andersen said, breaking Trent out of his daze. “You are an important part of our war preparation plans.”

“How? What am I supposed to do? I was in the Army. I don’t know the first thing about space flight. I can do a war bond sales tour if you want.”

“Your Army experience is exactly what we’re looking for. Very few people alive today have the right experience for what we are planning. Even fewer of those are young enough to accomplish the mission.”\

Trent paced from one end of desk to the other.

“Get to the point, Commander. What mission?”

Andersen smiled. “It’s going to take Earth years to mobilize. We have to recruit and train an army, and design and build a fleet of warships. We can’t sit around and do nothing for the next decade, particularly since we know almost nothing about the enemy. We need you to lead a mission in advance of a Fleet strike force, to gather intelligence, and then lead the ground assault against an alien base.

“You’re perfect for the mission. You have combat experience operating behind enemy lines, and your Ranger training has prepared you to fight in any environment—any environment on Earth that is.”

“I...I don’t know, gentleman.”

Andersen said, “Captain, it has to be you to lead this mission for reasons beyond your rare experience.”

“What are you taking about?”

Andersen took a deep breath. “It goes without saying that we’ve withheld this information from the public. We don’t want them to know about the attack until we can present them with a concrete plan of action, to not only protect humanity but also take the war to the enemy.

“When we break the news in two days’ time, the public is going to shit a collective brick. Hell, it could get as bad as it did in the weeks leading up to the Kitright landing. The markets could crash, and the economy could stall. We can’t have that just as we’re trying to get ready to fight a new kind of war. We need to instill confidence in the public right from the beginning.

“
You
are a war hero, the last war hero. Your participation in this operation will give the public a sense of security.” Raising a hand high, Andersen waved it slowly as he spoke, as if pitching the headline. “The last Medal of Honor recipient comes out of retirement to fight again to save Earth. It might very well be a false sense of security, but that will do for now. And honestly,” Andersen said in a calmer, more somber tone. “All of that PR bullshit aside. Can you look me in the eye and tell me you’re not the best man for the job?”

“I have a family, a little girl who needs her daddy.” Trent pleaded, though more to himself than to these men. His warrior’s soul ached to get into the fight, but his father’s heart pushed back. 

Andersen said, “This is a world full of little girls, and this is a war for their very existence, for their right to live. In the end, you’re right. Your little girl does need her daddy, she needs him to be a soldier again. She needs him to fight the monsters.” He glanced at his companion. “Show him.”

Mitchell set a holoplate on the coffee table in front of Trent. After a few seconds, the device displayed gruesome images from the New Earth recorders.

Beasts as large as bears, yet looking more like lions, tore apart any human they came across: men, woman, and children, the old as well as the already wounded and unarmed. It didn’t matter. Whomever the beasts came across met a terrible fate of blood, claws, and teeth.

Andersen was right. It was an extermination rather than a battle.

Trent looked away. Andersen shut the holoplate off.

“This time, the monsters are real. If they get here...if we don’t stop them, then no one’s little girl will be safe.”

Trent paled.

“I don’t know. I just don’t know. The Army was a long time ago. I’m a new man now. There must be someone else, someone better?”

“You’re the same man who led the Ranger team in South Africa. I know that for certain. I’ve read your file. You never wanted to be anything other than a soldier from the moment you were born. War is what you were meant for. That doesn’t go away because you were forced to live this lie.” Anderson waved an arm around the office. “An insurance salesman? Really? Don’t tell me that you don’t wake up every day feeling like something is missing in your life.”

The truth hurt. There wasn’t a day that went by where Trent didn’t ache for the action he’d experienced in battle.

“It’s not just that. My daughter—I don’t want to abandon her.”

“Wars are not fought by childless men alone. You have a greater responsibility to the human race. Believe me, I’m not exaggerating when I say we’re hanging on by a thread. This new kind of war has caught us flat footed. You are the best man for the job. We need you. Mitchell, play the holo again.”

Trent held up his palm.

“Don’t.” He knew deep down that Andersen was right. Victory would require sacrifices from many in this high stakes war. “I’ll need to talk to my wife. Will...I never...Will I ever see my family again?” A part of him rejoiced the return to active duty. His true self could live again.