by Tim C Taylor
The Human Legion
DELUXE BOX SET-2
Copyright © Tim C. Taylor
Cover Artwork by Vincent Sammy
Published by Human Legion Publications
All Rights Reserved
For a free Tim C. Taylor starter library, join the Legion at HumanLegion.com
Human Empire © Tim C. Taylor/ Ian Whates 2015
War Against the White Knights © Tim C. Taylor/ Ian Whates 2016
The Battle of Cairo © Tim C. Taylor 2017
I Hum the Future; the Future is War © Tim C. Taylor 2017
The Battle of Earth Part1: Endgame © Tim C. Taylor 2018
The Battle of Earth Part2: Restart © Tim C. Taylor 2018
REVENGE SQUAD: Damage Unlimited © Tim C. Taylor 2018
CHIMERA COMPANY: The Hero of Azoth-Zol © Tim C. Taylor 2018. First published in Backblast Area Clear by Bayonet Books
This collection, Preface, and Author's Notes © Tim C. Taylor 2020
Table of Contents
2741AD – PREFACE: From the Office of the President of the Human Autonomous Region
2569AD. Book4 - Human Empire Author’s Notes: Human Empire
2602AD. Book5 - War Against the White Knights Author’s Notes: War Against the White Knights
2741AD – Archivist’s note
2717AD. Sidestory – The Battle of Cairo Author’s Notes: The Battle of Cairo
2730AD. Sidestory – I Hum the Future; the Future is War Author’s Notes: I Hum the Future
2739AD. Book6 - The Battle of Earth Part 1: Endgame
2739AD. Book6 - The Battle of Earth Part 2: Restart Author's Notes: The Battle of Earth
2752AD. Further stories – REVENGE SQUAD: Damage Unlimited Author’s Notes: Damage Unlimited
5773AD/ FL-3028. Further-story – CHIMERA COMPANY: The Hero of Azoth Zol Author’s Notes: The Hero of Azoth-Zol
Your next read
2741AD – PREFACE:
From the Office of the President of the Human Autonomous Region
PREFACE
I bid you welcome to the second and final collection of the Annals of the Human Legion, which covers the period 2569–2739 according to the old Earth Anno Domini calendar. These are the pivotal years in which the Legion has to mature quickly into a force to protect all humans against powerful enemies if it is to prevent utter extermination.
Some say this period ended in victory, others that the Legion ultimately betrayed the principles it stood for, that it lost the battles that mattered most. The Legion taught us that freedom can be won, but we are all painfully aware that it hasn’t been won for everyone.
The end of this period, then, marks a pause in a longer struggle, a punctuation between one set of conflicts and the next that must surely follow. Those of us who survive and remain must gather our strength for the many challenges before us. For those who have left us, we pray they fight on with honor wherever they now find themselves.
My team have carefully edited the published Annals to portray the key events and individuals, but that means many stories have been left out. A few of these ‘side stories’ are included in these annals. For the second volume, I have selected two accounts of the period between the assault on the White Knight homeworld and the liberation of Earth (listed here as The Battle of Cairo and I Hum the Future; the Future is War). I recommend readers should include these stories before proceeding to the account of The Battle of Earth, because they lay a deeper understanding of those events and the key characters within them.
Finally, the work of producing the Annals is of interest in itself to some, and so this volume also includes author’s notes.
Whether you are reading these annals to study, or simply to thrill to the stories of adventure, cruelty and betrayal – my team and I thank you for doing so. And remember: freedom can be won… but for the unwary, it is so easily lost to new tyrannies.
Don’t be unwary.
Be prepared.
Read the Human Legion’s story.
Annals Project Manager, Flag Lieutenant H.N. Hood (HLNS, Retired)
By authority of the Office of the President of the Human Autonomous Region.
HAR Federal Territory, Earth. October, 2741
2569AD. Book4 - Human Empire
You’re human. Weak. Despised.
With civil war raging across the galaxy, there’s only one way to earn respect: to fight and win… a HUMAN EMPIRE.
* * *
The authors wish to thank all those who work-shopped, proof read, or otherwise supported the making of this book. In particular, Paul Melhuish for allowing us to raid his vault of filthy Skyfirean vernacular, the Northampton Science Fiction Writers Group, Midland Road Costa Coffee, The Bromham Swan, Bedford Central Library, Hans, Mike and our loyal supporters on humanlegion.com, and Ian Watson for persuading Tim to turn a short story into a bestselling book series.
* * *
— Recon Team —
We wish to thank our Force Recon Team for this book, who bravely scouted out the first draft, searching for hazards. This book is much better for their generous assistance.
— Tim C. Taylor & Ian Whates
Andy Helman
Aaron Long
Mr. Michael McPherson (Sergeant, USA)
Gordon Taylor
— Preface —
This, the fourth book in the Annals of the Human Legion, begins with the Legion’s retreat from their home planet following their defeat in the First Tranquility Campaign. Despite recovering 600 soldiers frozen since the earliest years of the Human Marine Corps, the Legion has lost not only a planet, but the millions of Marines hidden under the ruins of their former base of Detroit. Even now, it seems improbable that this band of humiliated stragglers will soon become a force powerful enough to become a major player in the Civil War.
This fourth book is the account of how those refugees make the rest of the galaxy sit up and take notice of this peculiar movement known as Humanity.
This is how they lay the foundations of empire.
This is Human Empire.
— Prologue —
Arun rolled over onto his back and released a happy groan. He closed his eyes and folded his arms behind his neck, marveling, as always, at the way the Navy-spec mattress adjusted its contours to maximize support and comfort.
As soon as he’d gotten his breath back, he opened his eyes because there was plenty to feast his gaze upon. He rolled over and regarded Janna, who basked in his attention.
Janna was an Ancient, though she’d schooled him to never use that term when they were together. She preferred Wolf, many of them having come from Wolf Company. From her description her company had been more like a wild pack of animals than a disciplined military unit.
Cryogenically frozen for centuries, her physiology was much closer to baseline human than his. Her great grandparents had actually walked the Earth, an idea that fascinated Arun nearly as much as the physical and emotional reality of the person next to him on his rack.
Janna was small, and light enough for Arun to lift one handed, but her body was nothing like the elfin gracefulness of the zero-g adapted Navy personnel. She was ripped with muscle underneath the palest skin he’d ever seen. His gaze traced the path of interlocking rings tattooed up one side from her ankle all the way to her neck, where it disappeared underneath a cascade of coppery-brown ringlets.
She might be small, but delicate sure wasn’t a word he’d use to describe Janna. Nor shy, not after the way she’d accosted him a week ago and declared with absolute conviction that she was going to have him as her lover for a while, but as soon as the novelty of a Marine officer had worn thin her attention would shift e
lsewhere.
And like all Ancients, her mood could switch from loyalty and tenderness to unfettered violence in a heartbeat. Maybe Wolf wasn’t such a bad term after all, because she could be a relentless beast, as powerful and unstable as an X-ray bomb. To be honest, Arun was a little scared of her. Which, of course, was why he couldn’t resist her pursuit of him.
His fellow officers disapproved of his fraternizing. But Arun wasn’t a machine. His rediscovered friend Hortez made for an honest sounding board, but that wasn’t enough. Arun had a destiny to fulfil, but he wasn’t strong enough to do it alone.
Janna’s brows suddenly crashed down into a frown. “I’m still here,” she snarled. “But your mind’s someplace else. You’re thinking of her again. Aren’t you?”
Which her did Janna mean? Springer: the only woman to whom he’d said the words: ‘I love you’? But Springer had responded by pushing him away, leaving the void in his heart that he’d allowed Janna to exploit ruthlessly. There were others – Xin and Indiya – but it didn’t matter who Janna was thinking of because Arun wasn’t thinking of any of them. Not this time.
He grimaced. “I’m thinking of an old friend. One I have to say farewell to.”
“Oh, the dying alien.” Janna’s anger evaporated, replaced by wide-eyed compassion.
A dark void sucked at Arun’s gut. Thinking he’d lost Pedro the first time had been bad enough, but seeing the alien die a little more, day by day was brutal. His Trog friend had steadily faded ever since they had rescued him from Antilles. And no one had a damned idea why.
He nodded at Janna. Almost gave her a smile. “Yup. I’m thinking of the big bug. Pedro.”
She held his hand and squeezed. The comforting gesture would have helped too, if her face didn’t betray her relief that he wasn’t thinking of a rival.
“It’s hitting me hard,” he said. “I’ve been putting this off, but Pedro deserves better than that.”
“You’re right. Let him know that we’re grateful. We won’t forget…him.”
He leaned over and kissed her. Of course, she wouldn’t forget. Every Ancient aboard had been secretly smuggled away from the deep levels of Detroit and the annihilation that would have been their fate, dumped out of their cryo pods to make way for more advanced models of human. Every one of them owed Pedro their life.
And so too did Arun.
Many times over.
Losing Pedro was worse than a friend dying. He was vital to the Human Legion.
“Go to it now. He needs you.”
He brushed a copper curl from Janna’s neck, smiling at how difficult she found Arun’s need to assign the alien a gender.
Without another word, Arun dressed, setting his fatigues to the formal dress uniform program. Then he set off to do his duty.
——
Pedro was a large, insect-like alien perpetually fascinated with the human experience of gender, especially when that human was Arun McEwan.
Or so he had been.
Arun’s Trog friend was now bloated with the genetic material needed to begin a new colony. At first that had seemed shocking but exciting, even when his legs atrophied away to vestigial nubs. But now the life was draining from this huge body. His once-gleaming carapace was now furry and mottled with a mold-like growth that no one could identify.
With Beowulf currently under modest thrust, Pedro appeared to be crushed against his couch under his own weight, no longer giving Arun the excited wiggle when meeting. His antennae drooped.
The medical station converted for Pedro’s personal use was kept so warm that Arun was already starting to sweat, and yet the Trog constantly complained of being chilled to the core.
After waiting a minute for Pedro to acknowledge him, Arun coughed loudly.
Was that a faint twitch to Pedro’s antennae?
Arun cleared his throat. “Are you dying?” he asked his friend.
“Yes, Friend-Arun.” The muffled reply came from a speech synthesizer under Pedro’s head. “There is no hope for me now, which is why I called you here at the end.”
Arun approached, and gently stroked the Trog’s closest antenna. Where once the feathery surface would have quivered under Arun’s touch, now it felt lifeless and sticky with a foul-smelling slime.
“As an ally, an adviser, and a friend, I will miss you, Pedro.”
“And I you. Which is why I must explain. My fatal ailment is cognitive conflict. I have tried to compartmentalize a terrible anguish. But as you can see, I have failed. While my race’s intellect is greatly your superior, human, your psychological adaptability and robustness are unparalleled amongst all known species.”
“Wait, you’re telling me that you’re dying because you’re confused? That’s insane. Even for you! Just talk it through. Why didn’t you talk with me earlier?”
“Because you would have executed me on the spot.”
Arun pulled at his hair, searching his natural and augmented memories for anything that would make sense of the alien’s words. He laughed bitterly, convinced the stupid great lunk’s mission in life was to confuse the hell out of Arun. Pedro was well practiced.
Oh!
A memory flooded back of something Arun had said. He’d been furious at Pedro for withholding vital information. Knowledge that might have saved the lives of such a very large number of people. So many that Arun’s mind shied away from that train of thought.
“You’ve been holding something back,” he accused.
“I have.”
“And in front of all my officers, I swore to execute anyone who did that again.”
“You did. And so I have suffered the mental torment of both lying to my greatest friend and contradicting my solemn promise to obey your order. My physical health has been ruined by my emotional malaise.”
“And now you wish to tell me your secret anyway, even though you are certain I will kill you.” Arun thought on that. “Which means you now think it is better I have this information. What’s changed? Why didn’t you tell me before?”
“Not enough has changed, Friend-McEwan. I always intended you would find out, but not yet. It is still too soon, but on balance, better that you know.”
“Well, now’s your last chance, Pedro. Tell!”
“Arun, when you rescued me from that moon, I secretly brought our children with me.”
Pedro’s antennae had been drooping but now shot straight down either side of his head. He looked so forlorn. And dying. Arun mustn’t forget his friend was dying, but he couldn’t help himself: he laughed until his gut hurt. “Our children? Oh, Xin would love this. What did she call me back in Detroit on the day I met you? An alien faggot. You can’t be serious. Are we going to hear the scurrying feet of little half-Arun, half-Pedro kiddies?”
Pedro said nothing.
“Please tell me you aren’t serious,” Arun whispered.
“Of course not, human.” Pedro flicked up his antennae in annoyance. “That would be ridiculous. I could not possibly contribute genetic material to your offspring.”
“Frakk! You had me worried for a moment.”
“Perhaps I should have said ‘your’ children. Human grammar is confusing in this context. I am referring to your children with Phaedra Tremayne whom you call Springer.”
“What? Springer? No. That’s sick. Springer can’t have children, even if she could bear to be on the same deck as me. She’s sterile. And her cells are cancer-ridden, held together only through constant repair by medical nanobots.”
“Not when I took her genetic material she wasn’t. Arun, please, you have to understand that I am connected to a Night Hummer conspiracy that has been planning a human empire for centuries. You and Springer are part of their plan. As a race and as an inspirational idea, you humans are so much stronger than many in the Trans-Species Union realize. Yet as individuals you are so frail. We needed… backups. In case you perished. I mixed your genetic material with hers. The results are embryos. Healthy but frozen.”
“Well, I d
on’t know what to say. It’s… wow! I should be angry but… I don’t know.”
“Please do not kill me yet, I haven’t finished.” The alien’s antennae drooped once more. “The situation is complex. This is why I had hoped you would have conducted your societal forming and be more stable before I told you.”
“I grant you permission to finish what you have to say,” said Arun solemnly, trying not to grin.
“Thank you. I worry for you, Arun, now that I have revealed the embryos’ existence. I have read much of your Earth dynastic wars. Rulers murder their own children to secure their thrones, and vice versa. It was commonplace for queens to murder the offspring of an earlier rival. Children and inheritance bring out the worst in your species. The embryos are meant as a backup if you should fail. Not to be a cause of your failure.”
“I understand, I think. But like you said. We humans are so dumb that we’re pretty good at muddling through whatever life throws at us.”
“Your confidence gives me hope,” said Pedro. “I have wrestled with this knowledge for a long while. I did not believe it is in the spirit of the Human Legion to keep this from you. And now that I have confessed my crime, you must put me and my unborn colony to death.”
“How many?”
“How many whats? Be more specific, human.”
“The embryos… how many?”
“From both parents, a total of one hundred.”
“I’m a father, a hundred times over!” Arun laughed. He didn’t know what else to do.
“Is this the human happiness laugh?” asked Pedro. “Or the manic one when you are emotionally overwhelmed?”
“Both, big guy.”
“Then I am happy for you.” Pedro flicked his antennae back, a gesture of serious intent. “Arun, for me to look forward into the near future, and see my demise, and that of my unborn, is a terrible thing. Please, conduct my execution without delay. I believe we were friends once. Respect our friendship.”