In Her Name: The Last War (141 page)

“Driver!” Sparks gritted his teeth in resignation as he kept on firing, waiting for the lightning to take him.

“Hang on, sir!”

Sparks barely had time to reach out a hand to brace himself after the driver’s warning when the Wolverine lurched in reverse, throwing up a huge geyser of dirt into the faces of the attacking warriors.

“Please, God.” Sparks prayed as he watched the two grenades arcing down toward them. He mashed down the trigger again, blasting more warriors into oblivion.

One of the grenades missed completely, sending out a flurry of lightning bolts as it hit the ground. 

The other hit the edge of the glacis plate, the very front armor of the tank.

“Oh, shit.” The driver’s words echoed the thoughts of all three men as the grenade began to arc against the tank’s armor.

But as the metal around it began to melt, the grenade fell away to sizzle harmlessly on the ground.

“Driver, we’re running out of room!” Sparks glanced behind them. The tree line was approaching fast. The woods here were too thick for the tank to drive through without the risk of throwing a track and being immobilized. Right now, mobility was life. “Spin us to the right and get moving forward. We’ll run parallel to their line and pour fire into ‘em!”

“Yes, sir!” 

As the driver answered, the Wolverine did exactly as Sparks had wanted, coming to a skidding stop before spinning in place in a perfect turn that lined them up parallel with the approaching aliens. 

The gunner turned the turret to the left and began raking the enemy with the tank’s guns. Behind and ahead of him, the other surviving tanks and infantry fighting vehicles were doing the same, following the lead of the Wolverine that flew a red pennant with three gold stars.

Sparks shook his head in grudging admiration at the endurance showed by the alien warriors. Even wearing armor and carrying weapons, they had sprinted almost half a dozen kilometers and were still coming on strong. 

“General, we’re going to run out of room.”

Looking to his right, toward the tree line, Sparks saw that the driver was right. They wouldn’t be able to keep far enough away from the Kreelans without going into the woods.

“Just keep firing.” Sparks figured that if he had to die, this was as good a place and as good a way as any for an old cavalry soldier like him.

That’s when he heard a sudden, massive barrage of cannon fire. 

Looking up, he saw a line of tanks and infantry fighting vehicles burst over a rise just to the east, in the direction they were heading, every gun hammering at the mass of alien warriors.

“The reserve,” Sparks whispered, relief flooding through him. These were the Marines his logistics officer had brought down farther away from the LZ, and they had been beyond the range of the strange…phenomenon. “Driver, wheel around as they pass and join their line.”

“Yes, sir!” 

For the first time, Sparks knew for certain that this battle was theirs. More of his Marines would die before the day was through, but he knew they were going to win.

CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE

Mills, Valentina, and Allison watched the strange dark wall consume the battlefield like a sandstorm.

Above, they saw the unmistakable streaks of incoming shells from an orbital bombardment, and clapped their hands over their ears at the deafening sonic booms. 

Mills knew the shells were from the new battleships, which had special munitions that Commodore Sato had helped design. Mills had witnessed the gunnery tests over a deserted expanse of Siberia on Earth. The effects on the target area, which had been covered with dummies designed to simulate the alien warriors, had been devastating.

“Come on! Blow them to bloody kingdom come!”

The shells simply stopped in mid-air. He could see the glint of the metal casings, red-hot from reentry, hanging above the target. 

Then they simply fell toward the ground, out of sight behind the rapidly expanding darkness.

“My God! That’s bloody impossible!” 

The dark cloud, whatever it was, swept over the Marine positions surrounding the landing zone.

Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, it began to dissipate. 

Taking his hands from his ears, he could hear the voices of the warriors, tens of thousands of them. A mass of black-clad bodies ran through the clearing smoke as they charged the human encirclement. 

“Start shooting, you buggers!” Mills bellowed at the top of his lungs.

As if the distant Marines heard him, a gatling gun growled, followed by the heavy crack of a tank’s main gun firing.

In a moment, the battlefield was consumed by weapons fire as the human defenders came alive. 

“It’s going to be close,” Valentina said from beside him. Her eyesight was better, and she could see how close the Kreelans really were. The Marines were mowing them down in droves, but the aliens were right on top of them. “If the Marines don’t…”

Right in front of them,
she
was there. The warrior leader.

“Look at her,” Mills whispered. 

The warrior’s face was covered in blood. It ran like tears from her eyes, which themselves were a bright red from burst blood vessels. It dripped from her chin onto the pendants that hung from her collar, then onto her breastplate. Streaks of crimson ran down the bright cyan rune on her armor.

She swayed for just a moment, then steadied herself. She looked at each of them in turn, her gaze lingering on Allison, before she fixed her eyes on Valentina. Then she slowly drew her sword.

Mills began to step forward, but Valentina held out a hand to stop him. “No, Mills. I’ve got this. Keep Allison and Steph safe.”

He wanted to argue, but knew that she was right. He was at the end of his rope physically and could barely stay on his feet. And the only thing he had left as a weapon, besides his massive fists, was his combat knife, although Allison still held onto the sword she’d taken from a dead warrior. “Be bloody careful.”

With that, Valentina moved forward, and the warrior took a few paces back to give them both some room. 

Drawing her own sword, Valentina fought to clear her mind, hoping only that the warrior wouldn’t use any of her supernatural powers. If she didn’t, Valentina thought the fight might just be even, especially since the warrior was clearly injured.

With her blade held at the ready, she waited for the warrior to make the first move.

* * *

Ku’ar-Marekh was disappointed. One of the humans was grievously injured, and the others clearly wished to fight her one at a time. She had hoped they would attack her simultaneously to provide more of a challenge. Fighting each of them alone, even as badly wounded as her own body was, could have only one outcome, and would give little opportunity for her to bring the Empress the glory She deserved. 

It also allowed for the chance that Ku’ar-Marekh herself might survive. 

If that is to be my Way
, she thought,
then so be it
. 

With the roar of gunfire echoing from the distant battlefield, Ku’ar-Marekh raised her sword, her hands tightening around the living crystal of the handle, the tip of the blade glinting in the fading sunlight.

Staring into the eyes of the human, she attacked.

* * *

Valentina thought she was ready, but the strength and ferocity of the lightning-swift cut of the alien’s blade caught her by surprise. The alien was far stronger than her battered appearance let on. 

She managed to parry the attack, the blades singing as they collided, but the force of the blow knocked Valentina off-balance.

Using her momentum instead of fighting against it, she fell backward and rolled, springing to her feet just in time to block a thrust aimed at her heart. The alien missed her intended target, but Valentina hissed with pain as the alien’s blade sliced deep into the flesh along the ribs under her left arm.

Baring her teeth and focusing her anger and frustration, she launched herself at the warrior, her sword whirling in a series of strikes that drove the alien back. Adrenaline and stimulants flooded into Valentina’s system from her implants, and the sword in her hand was a blur as it slashed and cut at the Kreelan, trying to get past the alien’s devilishly fast defense to land a telling blow.

The alien made a sudden overhand cut, and as Valentina blocked it, she whirled to one side, intending to land a disabling kick to the alien’s knee when a sudden, white hot pain exploded from her left shoulder. 

She turned to see the claws of one of the alien’s hands buried in the fragile joint. 

With a cry of pain, Valentina shoved the alien back and tried to slash at the Kreelan’s exposed wrist.

The alien warrior pulled out her claws and used her armored fist to deflect Valentina’s blade.

Then the Kreelan rammed her sword into Valentina’s unprotected stomach, shoving it in up to the golden hilt.

* * *

“Valentina!” Allison cried.

“No!” Mills screamed as Valentina froze, her face echoing shock and surprise as she stared down at the sword that had run clean through her body. The blade, glistening with her blood, protruded from her back.

Filled with murderous rage, Mills charged the warrior, armed with nothing but his bare hands. 

The Kreelan deftly sidestepped his charge, even as she still held Valentina pinned on her sword.

A victim of his own momentum, Mills tumbled to the ground, but was back on his feet in an instant. Like a bull who’d missed the matador on its first pass, he came at the alien again.

This time, when she looked at him, he felt his heart constrict, pierced by thousands of icy needles. 

Gasping in agony and clutching his hands to his chest, Mills sank to his knees.

He saw Allison, a feral snarl on her lips, rise up from beside Steph. Holding the Kreelan sword in both hands, she ran at the alien. 

While the girl’s attack had spirit, it was no match for the Kreelan. The warrior batted the sword’s blade downward with her free hand, then with a powerful backhand blow sent Allison sprawling backward. She tripped over Steph and fell to the ground, still clutching the sword.

Get up
, Mills told himself, sensing the pain ease slightly as the alien turned her attention back to Valentina. The warrior stared into Valentina’s eyes as she deflected Valentina’s weak attempts to strike the warrior with her good arm, the sword having slipped from her grip. 

“Get up, you bastard…” Mills forced himself to his feet, his heart desperately trying to work within a constricting cage of ice.

With a wet hiss, the warrior yanked the sword from Valentina, who slowly fell to her knees, a thin line of blood seeping from the corner of her mouth. 

Then the Kreelan raised her sword, intending to take Valentina’s head from her body.

Grimacing in agony, Mills charged.

* * *

Steph awoke with a start, her heart racing. She’d been having a nightmare, a terrible dream of swords and death. But as her subconscious gave way to conscious thought, the details blissfully faded into oblivion.

She was curled up in bed, surrounded by all the familiar things of home. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted in from the kitchen down the hall, where the automatic coffee maker was percolating away. 

Early morning. It had always been her favorite time of day, the brief moment out of time when the world hadn’t yet intruded, when she had no duties or obligations. A moment when she had time to herself to do absolutely nothing. 

Beside her lay Ichiro. She watched the rise and fall of his well-muscled chest, the slow rhythm of his breathing as he slept. She was so happy he was home, that they were together again. She had hated being separated from him, had wanted him back so badly. But he was here now. Everything was again as it should be.

Watching him sleep, she marveled at what a handsome man he was. Despite having what amounted to a sedentary job, he still kept himself in excellent shape, and she smiled as she ran her eyes over his arms and shoulders, his chiseled abs. He was quite a bit younger than she was. It was a fact she never made any to-do about in public, but that she secretly allowed to serve her vanity. And as motivation to stay in great shape herself. 

Young though he might be, he had been made far older and wiser by the dreadful experiences he’d had since first contact with the Kreelans. He’d suffered through more than any man should have to endure, having lost so many of his shipmates and his beloved ships to the enemy. 

Her mind filled with visions of the blue-skinned horrors rampaging across the human sphere, a plague in shining black armor, killing everyone in their path. She heard the cries of rage and pain as men and women fought the enemy for their lives, defending their homes, themselves, and their children.

They fought, yes. And died under the enemy’s sword.

The thought made her shudder, gooseflesh breaking out all over her skin. She snuggled closer to Ichiro, rearranging his arm so she could lay up against him, her head on his shoulder.

But as she clung to him, her visions of the loathsome aliens intensified, and Ichiro’s body seemed cold. So cold. 

She began to shiver uncontrollably, and one of her legs throbbed with pain. 

Propping herself up so she could see Ichiro’s face, she saw that it was deathly pale.

No, not pale, she decided. His face was…fading. He was disappearing before her eyes.

“Ichiro?” she whispered, her heart hammering with dread.

His eyes snapped wide open, and he spoke, but it wasn’t his voice. It sounded like Roland Mills. 

“
Valentina!
”

* * *

Steph screamed and blinked her eyes open. She lay there in the dirt, disoriented, wondering where she was.

Beside her, she saw a young girl staring at something. Then she heard a man, not Ichiro, bellow “No!”

Turning her head, she saw a huge man in a camouflage uniform running toward an alien warrior, who was standing next to another woman.

“Valentina,” Steph whispered, recognizing her. But she realized Valentina wasn’t just standing next to the alien. The Kreelan’s sword was sticking out her friend’s back. “Oh…God…”