Soldier of the Legion sotl-1

by Marshall S. Thomas

  “Tenners, let’s do it.”

  The hatch came off, burning and hissing. Coolhand, Dragon and Priestess hauled it off. Snow Leopard, Merlin and Psycho paused for just a frac, at the brink. Metal steps led down to a metal deck, and that’s all we could see.

  “See you in Hell.”

  “Death!” A hoarse whisper, from us all. Death, our angel. Death, to watch over us all. And then Snow Leopard, Merlin and Psycho vanished down the stairs. Warhound, Ironman and I followed right behind them leaping down into the portal, ignoring the stairs, guns up.

  “Maximum alert!” Sweety whispered icy futures in my ears immediately. “Combat alert! Advanced presence! Human presence! Silenced power systems ahead! Muffled commo systems ahead! Nuclear alert! Radiation alert! V alert! Enemy laser systems powering on! Enemy targeting systems powering on! You are being targeted for attack! Recommend immediate counterattack!”

  We ran, flat out, weapons up, my heart pounding, along a pristine metal tunnel, straight to our deaths.

  “Fire, Psycho! Fire!” Snow shouted. The tunnel flashed up ahead, a sudden white hot nuclear light glaring all around us, a tremendous concussion, the earth trembling, Warhound and Ironman frozen in mid-stride beside me. Sweety still whispered her magic in my ears, bless her!

  “Major enemy power systems powering on, gravity systems powering on, antimat drive generators powering on, strategic space superiority systems powering on! Tactical acquisition combat systems now on and scanning! The enemy is targeting you now! Recommend immediate counterfire! Tac nukes powering on! Multiple coded enemy alerts broadcasting now! I have identified the enemy! United System Defense Alliance tactical systems in use! Ignition! Ignition! Ignition! Ignition! You are under multiple attack! Fire all weapons!”

  We dove to the deck in agonizing slow motion, a controlled crash, firing even as we skidded along the metal grating on our armored bellies. I fired high on auto xmax and knew Sweety would handle the arc. The air cracked wildly as we all fired, and then the world exploded. A bolt of white lightning flashed ahead of us and a great shock wave exploded all around us and suddenly the tunnel walls turned liquid, glowing streaks and globs of red-hot metal splattering through the air like fireworks, dazzling my eyes.

  A booming maxburst of full power commo filled my helmet, Snow Leopard reporting in. “Systies! It’s Systies! Command, Beta! We’re in combat with Systies! Positive ID! Major power systems coming on! They’re launching ships! Nova! Nova! Attack! Attack! Put it right on top of us!” Deadman’s death, we had done it! Systies, and we had passed the word! Now we could die in peace. Beta was history.

  A nuclear sun seemed to burst right in my face, ripping the fabric of our reality, the shock wave lifting me up like a mote of dust and bouncing me off the melted ceiling, the noise shattering my ears, my faceplate solid black and the light still burning into my brain. My E bounced off my faceplate, ricocheting all around me at the end of the strap.

  “Beta, attack! Fire all weapons!” I could hardly believe my ears. Snow Leopard was still alive! The world roared all around me. I lay in a river of fire. Sheets of flame, rivers of flame, rippled along the deck. The whole tunnel vibrated. I scrambled to my feet. I still had my E. Our own deceptors cracked wildly everywhere. Uncoordinated enemy fire went wild. My faceplate bloomed with a dazzling array of flashing red lights, frantic alarms sounding in my ears. Sweety relayed data non-stop, but it wasn’t getting through to my brain. A beautiful, glowing flower of biogas was splattered in eerie slow motion over what was left of the walls and ceiling and deck, ricocheting everywhere, lovely transparent fingers of doom. An icy thrill ran over my skin. Warhound rose up from in front of me, fire licking over his armor. Alive!

  “Warhound! It’s Thinker, where’s Ironman!”

  “Attack. We have to attack.” Another explosion blasted the tunnel ahead of us.

  “Move up!” I shouted. Warhound and I moved forward shoulder to shoulder firing high on auto xmax and Sweety had the arc. The smoking tunnel ahead lit up with laser fire, then multiple flashes, grinding explosions, and another shock wave, knocking us flat.

  “Deto!”

  “Get up! Snow Leopard’s alive! Attack! Beta, attack!” I did not know who else survived, but I had heard Snow Leopard up ahead calling out the alert and knew we had to back him up. Warhound and I charged forward, firing blind.

  “Sweety, give me a target! Beta sitrep!”

  “Shielded enemy ahead, deceptor bursts, I cannot read them. Snow Leopard and Psycho ahead, I do not read Merlin, Ironman is behind you, Dragon and Priestess and Coolhand at the rear. Faint readings from Gamma, Delta, and Alpha, rapidly approaching on blackout. I estimate Central is responding with a full strategic strike, but all elements are on blackout. I read numerous tac nuke strikes and an initial anti burst in the air. I detect major enemy antimat launchings, currently underway. Multiple ignitions! You are under attack! Fire all weapons! I have the arc!”

  We fired, a vicious burst of auto xmax tearing along just under the ceiling. More cracks, just over our heads.

  “Keep firing, guys! Snow Leopard, report!”

  An exquisite red starburst with a white-hot core, dazzling us, an eerie supersonic hissing. A tremendous crack, the earth shaking, blazing yellow streaks snapping past us, my armor ringing, my faceplate peppered with scars.

  “Keep it up, Psycho! You’re a freaking genius! Don’t stop!” Snow Leopard, alive, and suddenly the smoke cleared for an instant and there they were, Snow Leopard and Psycho and Merlin, thank the dead, even Merlin! They huddled in a jagged hole torn out of the deck, severed power cables draped around them like writhing snakes, water and steam spraying wildly from a pipe, the tunnel peeled open ahead of them as if smashed by the fists of the Gods. Lights flickered on and off, fiery black smoke choking the air, a scary electric crackling.

  Warhound and I hurled ourselves into the hole. I landed on a thick power cable. Ironman jumped in right after us. I was overjoyed to see him. Psycho had the Manlink on his shoulder and he fired even as we watched, crackling, dazzling tacstars flashing magically downtunnel. Snow Leopard and Merlin knelt beside Psycho, their E’s glowing, their armor pitted and smoking, and a tunnel of fire, molten metal, glowed all around them.

  “Advance, Beta!” Insane or not, we’d follow our One all the way to Hell and fight our way through to the other side if he wanted. We advanced, stunned and silent, terrified, firing almost non-stop.

  We found the first Systie almost immediately. He had been caught in one of Psycho’s tacstars. His heavy armor had been ripped apart like paper. His faceplate shattered, face swollen purple, the eyes bloody pulps, a black tongue showing between his lips. He had been a big man, but now he was nothing. Instinctively, I made the sign of the Legion.

  Even through the damage, though, I recognized what he had once been. “Systie commando. Lord! Look at that insignia! 15th DefCorps! Deadman, what are they doing here?”

  “They’re here! Never mind why! We attack! Quit gabbing! Move up, Beta!” Snow was all business.

  “Ignition! Ignition! Ignition! You are under attack!”

  “Fire! Fire!” Psycho let loose, we all let loose.

  “Command Beta! We’ve ID’d a commando unit of the 15th DefCorps! Repeat, commandos, 15th DefCorps!”

  “Confirm, Beta! Maintain your blackout!”

  We finally reached the end of the long access tunnel and looked around at the twisted wreckage of a major base complex. Ceilings, decks, bulkheads all riddled, twisted, torn, shattered, shredded, and glowing, the metal running like white hot lava, hissing and spitting. Gaping holes peppered the deck and ceilings. We could see more levels down below, and A-suited soldiers, running. A confusing array of heavy equipment was scattered everywhere, tumbled in chaotic patterns, half buried in rubble. We sought shelter where we could. I ducked behind a heavy tracked vehicle, my heart racing.

  A titanic blast hit ahead of us, ripping the air violently, spraying us with shrapnel, leaving me huddled in terror, de
af and frozen. I saw Psycho pop up like a toy soldier, the Manlink on his shoulder, fire another tacstar burst, and duck. A tremendous bang, freezing my blood.

  Someone landed beside me. Hard. I turned and found myself staring into Boudicca’s faceplate. I got a quick glimpse of her glowing, ecstatic face, wild eyes, the Legion cross black on her forehead. She was biting her lip. Only an instant and then she leaped up, firing her E on full auto xmax, calling her troops.

  “Death, Gamma! Death! Fire all weapons! Advance, Gamma, advance! Follow me, Gamma! Follow me!” And all of Gamma suddenly appeared, up and moving forward, and the world shook to their firing.

  “Beta-advance! Fire controlled xmax!” We followed Snow Leopard, and my armor rang with hits as soon as I stepped forward. I aimed the E high and fired auto xmax, and Sweety did the rest. I didn’t bother looking at the tacsit.

  Sweety was still talking. “Enemy troopers ahead! I see six, marked, fire xmax now! Ignition! Enemy tacstars! Fire all weapons! Fall now!” The deck hit me in the face. A ringing in my head, but nothing hurt any more. A great roaring. Get up.

  “Get up! Attack! Biogas ignition! No effect! Recommend stunstar to take enemy prisoners! Ignition! Fire xmax! Major antimat launching sequences continuing! I detect a major launching completed! Numerous deceptor launches! Airburst antis! Major enemy troop concentrations directly ahead! Enemy V, laser, nuke, tacs now on you! Fire all weapons! Psycho fire tacstars, fire! Ignition! Multiple attacks, fire and fall!”

  I fired and fell, just as we had practiced a thousand times in Hell. Again a white-hot sun licked at my armor.

  “Get up! Attack! Psycho, give me some stunstars! I want prisoners!” Snow Leopard walked into the firestorm just ahead. Every muscle in my body screamed in agony. Engulfed in flames, I found something in my way. A massive chunk of metal, hanging from the overhead by a thin strip. I kicked it away. I thought I saw Valkyrie walking past me, calmly firing her E from the hip, wreathed in flames. I immediately thought of Priestess, somewhere behind me. I raised my E and fired. I could not afford such thoughts.

  Sleepwalking, I stepped over the smoking armor of another Systie soldier, his A-suit torn open by unimaginable forces. Several of them sprawled, pitted and dead, frozen in grotesque positions, flames licking all around them. Someone screamed. I thought for a moment it was me. A sharp, eerie whistling, all around me. Suddenly pure white smoke enveloped me, and the air sparkled like diamonds. Biogas! I held my breath, instinctively.

  I almost stumbled over another A-suit. This one moved, and I was about to shoot when I realized it was Legion armor. Ironman had fallen to his knees, his left arm missing below the elbow, armor burnt and smoking, raising his other arm to me. His eyes appeared strangely calm and vulnerable. Blood spurted from the wound.

  “Medic! Priestess, Thinker, on me! Ironman’s hit!” I tore open my medkit, ripped out a pressure dressing and forced it up past the jagged edges of Ironman’s armor and into the wound. His blood squirted all over my armor.

  Priestess arrived in a frac, working on Ironman immediately. He slumped into unconsciousness. I cradled his helmet in my arms. I thought of when I had first met Ironman, in Providence, and of everything that had happened since then. He was just an innocent kid, a schoolboy who had somewhere taken a wrong turn and found himself on Atom’s Road, still full of wonder at it all. Ironman-our last link with innocence. Deadman, don’t let him die!

  “I’ve done the wound,” Priestess said calmly. “The biogas, we’ve got to seal the suit, now. Help me with the sealant.”

  We stuffed sealant into the jagged remains of the A-suit’s left arm, while lasers snapped all around us, drilling ragged lines into a nearby wall. I aimed my E with one hand and fired blindly on auto xmax. Ironman’s armor was badly scarred and pitted, but appeared to be functional. Shrapnel suddenly rained on us, pinging off our armor.

  “Beta! Attack! We need more firepower!” Snow Leopard called out.

  “Go, Thinker,” Priestess insisted. “We’ve got to leave him, I’ll mark it.”

  “Will he be all right?”

  “Yes. Go!”

  Whatever used to be here was now unrecognizable. It had been a major Systie base, full of heavy equipment and starline containers, buried far underground, hidden in the heart of the exoseg complex, worlds within worlds, so deep and silent we had never even suspected its existence. Now it was smoking junk, still burning brightly, torn and vaporized and shredded and melting. Command would be hitting the base from above, and I did not see how we could survive.

  A blue flash with white streaks of streaming debris lit up just ahead, followed closely by a sharp concussion wave. More shrapnel. I could barely see out my faceplate, it was so scarred. I moved forward into thick clouds of black smoke.

  Sweety continued talking. “Enemy stunstar! Beta and Gamma ahead, engaging the enemy. Fire xmax, Thinker, I’ll guide it!”

  A blinding flash up ahead, a tacstar. The shockwave, rocking me. I aimed high and fired a burst of xmax. Lasers flashed past me.

  Suddenly a great roaring vibration echoed from above and a massive section of ceiling came down in awesome slow motion, low grade metal beams melting like icicles in the flames, carrying down the world from up above. A great glowing mass of equipment, ripping and tearing and popping.

  It all fell in on us. Sweety squeaked a warning and Psycho, on my left, fired a tacstar right up there, fighting to the end, alarms shrieking, nowhere to go but stand there, head up, and face my death.

  I raised my E and fired, full auto xmax, screaming.

  Light. Heat, rushing through my veins. Whispers.

  “Get up, Thinker! Get up!”

  “Thinker! Answer me, Thinker!” Dreaming. Sweety’s voice. Priestess’s voice. Valkyrie’s voice.

  My eyes flickered open. Light, glimmering. A dull roaring. Shadows. A face. Dark eyes, through a red faceplate. Priestess. Priestess! Kneeling over me, her black armor streaked with white scars and covered with dust. A confusing tangle of wreckage surrounded us. Lights flashed.

  “Thinker! Speak to me!”

  “Priestess…love you!” I reached up a hand and she collapsed onto me gasping, her eyes closed. We enjoyed the moment, faceplate to faceplate. I looked right into her face and I saw a child looking back, cheeks streaming with tears. Deadman, what were we doing out here, on the bad side of outside, beyond the edge, locked in a lunatic struggle for the future with an enemy who should not be here. I held her tightly. We would get through this, somehow, and then it would be Thinker and Priestess, forever.

  “I’m so happy, Thinker!”

  “We’ll be all right, Priestess. What’s the sit?” My entire body throbbed in agony, but Sweety told me I had no injuries. It’s not easy to hurt yourself in an A-suit.

  “It’s a mess,” Priestess replied. “This whole section has collapsed. I thought I’d never find you. Get up, we’ve got to go! Everybody is here now. The Second and the Third and the Fourth. Central did airburst antis right over the base. It’s a miracle we’re still alive! The Systies launched all their ships to get away. I don’t know what happened. Get up, we’re still fighting!”

  We crawled through a tangled maze of collapsed walls and ceilings, festooned with spitting, hissing power cables and twisted structural beams and shattered consoles and huge metal poles. We struggled past bombed-out aircars, heavy construction equipment, and burning crates of rations and supplies, riddled with holes. Thick billowing smoke rose and emergency lights glared and flickered, revealing bodies, smashed and crushed, in armor and out, pale and fragile and still. Weapons littered the wreckage.

  Lasers snapped somewhere up ahead. What a mess! We crawled over a pile of wreckage and the collapsed ceiling scraped my helmet.

  “Elektra, Farside, Gamma have this area secured,” Sweety told me. “Mopping up activity underway. The enemy successfully launched seven starships. They had evidently prepped for our arrival. Although all power systems were off, they were set to initiate launches as soon as they
powered on.”

  “Thinker, Snow Leopard! You with us yet? On me!”

  “Snow Leopard, Thinker. Tenners!” I replied. We slid down a great pile of smoking rubble. To our right we could see up several levels through gaping holes in the floors. A pair of massive blast doors rose up even higher, sealed tight, burned black. It was quiet except for the fire, consuming this secret world.

  “Priestess, how’s Ironman? Did we lose anyone?”

  “Ironman is with Beta now. He’s stable. We called an evac but they’re still trying to get through. The place is an absolute mess. As far as I know, we’re all here. We thought they got Psycho, but you can’t kill Psycho, he’s laserproof, you know that.” She sounded tired, but thrilled to be alive.

  “I’ll kill you, you filthy Systie worm! I’ll kill you! You’re dead, you understand? I’ll cut off your worthless head! Talk, you subhuman pig!” Boudicca seized the fat, greasy Systie by the throat and slammed him up against the wall. Boudicca had her helmet off, but was otherwise totally armored. The Systie looked naked in comparison, clothed only in a litesuit. Boudicca was enraged, her face burning, her flaming red hair accenting it, her teeth like fangs. The Systie turned purple, strangling, his naked fingers clawing at Boudicca’s armored hand. The Legion Cross on her forehead seemed to throb.

  “That’s enough, Boudicca!” Snow Leopard intervened, pulling her away from the Systie. Snow Leopard also had his helmet off, sweating and filthy, his blond-white hair plastered to his skull. The Systie slid down the wall and collapsed on the floor, gasping hoarsely, covered with blood and peppered with wounds. Another Systie slumped miserably in the corner, in litepants and no shirt. What looked like half of Beta and Gamma crowded around the prisoners, and they were in an ugly mood. I could not tell what function the room had served. Broken glass and rubble littered the floor.

  “I’m going to kill him!” Boudicca surged past Snow Leopard and seized one of the Systie’s hands in her armored fist. She began to squeeze, slowly, a cenite vise. The Systie screamed in agony, groveling on the floor, with Boudicca slowly crushing his hand. I heard the bones snapping.