Soldier of the Legion sotl-1

by Marshall S. Thomas

  “What’s this static about the Neutral Zone?” Scrapper leaned over to whisper to Boudicca. Scrapper was an attractive girl with a thick mop of tawny hair streaked with blonde. She had pale grey eyes, a face full of freckles, and heavy breasts.

  “It’s a lie. The Andrion system is in ConFree vac,” Boudicca whispered back. “They’re doing this for their own audience.” No doubt Boudicca was a favorite of the Systie propagandists. By now her image was terrifying Systie children every night: Be good, children, or the Legion will get you! Beware, or Gammagirl will eat you alive!

  Rumor was, the Legion did not care. The Terrorism amp; Public Relations boys had decided Boudicca was good for the image.

  “The System is determined to fulfill its treaty obligations to enforce the peace in the Neutral Zone, even in the face of Confederation intransigence and hostility,” the Systie female continued. “The USICOM settlement on Andrion 2…”

  Scrapper leaned close to Boudicca again and whispered, “A USICOM settlement? On A ConFree world? Do they actually believe all this?”

  “It’s all lies,” Boudicca responded coldly. “What did you expect? The entire System is one big lie.”

  The Systie continued, her voice rising. “We have been authorized to state on behalf of USICOM and STRATCOM that Andrion 2 is considered vital to the economic well-being of this entire Sector, and that the Legion seizure of Andrion 2 amounts to an act of economic warfare against both USICOM and the United System Alliance. We demand…”

  “If she doesn’t shut up, I’m going to puke,” Scrapper whispered to Boudicca. Nobody on the Legion side appeared to be paying much attention to the speaker. I wondered when all the nonsense would end. I hadn’t joined the Legion to watch negotiations with a gang of ugly Systies. I hated this. I liked things simple.

  Gravelight set down her mug of ice water carefully, her eyes closed. The Systie female droned on. Gravelight reached one hand over and clutched Val’s s arm. Her eyes were still closed, but her face shone. Even from the monitor, I could tell Gravelight had something important. A faint, angelic smile touched her lips. “Yesss…,” she said. We used sound suppressors so not even the most sophisticated listening devices could pick up her words. Unfortunately, they might be able to read lips.

  She trembled visibly. “We must leave. Now!”

  “What is it?” Val asked.

  Gravelight opened her eyes, dreamily. She stood and shakily started for the door.

  We regrouped in the assault craft. Gravelight sipped a cup of ice water and told us what she had. “It’s been with me for a day, just on the edge. I knew it was there, but I wasn’t quite able to focus on it. But I have it now. It was one of the Systie visitors, yesterday morning. You remember there was a little group of VIP’s that slithered in for a few marks, spoke with the chief rep, and then slithered out.”

  “Yes, I remember. Mocains, Ormans and a few Coldmarkers.”

  “It was one of the Ormans, sloppy security, I suppose. I’d bet he was not supposed to be here. But probably so high-ranking that nobody dared challenge him.”

  “What did you get?”

  No one breathed.

  Gravelight closed her eyes again, to recapture it. “A ship…an assault craft, landing on Coldmark. A cold, grim female…a fighter, a Mocain, contemptuous of Ormans. Fear and hate from the Orman. High security, Systie commandos with SGs. And a captive angel…a golden angel. Fear from the Orman. Deadman’s holy death, it’s Valkyrie. There is only a flash, just a flash. But it’s her! It’s our angel, Val. Our angel! She doesn’t belong on Coldmark, in the mud. She belongs with us, in the space between the stars.”

  It occurred to me that we were lucky Boudicca wasn’t with us right now. We’d never have been able to restrain her long enough to let Gravelight finish.

  Val almost gushed, “Bless you, Gravelight-you’ve done it! What else? What else?”

  “Yes…there’s more. Her name…the Mocain girl’s name…Millina, that’s it, Millina, she’s evil. And she knows!”

  “Knows what?”

  “Everything! She knows about the operation on Andrion 2. That’s what the Orman thought. We’ve got to find her!”

  “Where is she?”

  “Good question.” Gravelight put down her cup. “Somewhere on Coldmark, I guess. I have no idea. Try looking into an Orman sometime…it’s like a snake pit.”

  Val took Gravelight’s hand and squeezed it. Gravelight returned the squeeze, and they sat there, hand in hand. It sure looked like there was something developing between Gravelight and Val, but I knew psychers didn’t mix with deadheads.

  “Bless you, Eighty-eight. Bless you,” Val said.

  “I’m glad I was able to help,” she replied.

  Chapter 18: Worshipping Red Gods

  “Alert! Beta to the aircar! Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!” The shriek of the red alert caught me in the shower in the assault craft, downside in Coldmark Port. I almost knocked myself cold bouncing against a wall on the way to the assault craft’s door. I snatched up undies, litepants and boots on the run, danced into my pants, and seized someone’s coldcoat from the ready room.

  As the door to the assault craft snapped open, we ran out and our aircar approached us, hovering in icy air under a starry sky. The horizon glowed a red dawn. The car’s door hissed open and we hurtled in heads over heels like a squad of acrobats. Redhawk laughed hysterically.

  “Count!” Snow Leopard shouted, his hair wild, face flushed, pink eyes burning.

  “…Warhound, Dragon, Priestess-all here! Go!” Coolhand responded, and the assault doors slammed shut and we blasted off into the sky, a power climb. A wild tangle of equipment and people slid down the aisle to the rear.

  “Ah! Get off me.” I had fallen on top of someone.

  “They told me this was a ‘come as you are’ affair,” Coolhand said. He wasn’t wearing a shirt.

  “It’s pretty cold out there. You’d better find a shirt,” I said, struggled to pull on my coldcoat.

  “What’s the sit?” Coolhand asked.

  “All right, this is it,” Snow Leopard said. He unwrapped a crumpled print, then turned suddenly on the pilot. “Do you have the cords?”

  “Big ten! We’re ahead of Gamma!”

  “Good! All right. Wait!” His head snapped up again. “E’s and comtops! Now!”

  Psycho tore open the storage bins and began tossing out E’s and comtops. We grabbed them eagerly. I was working on my boots.

  “Take a look! It’s got to be Valkyrie!” Snow Leopard held up the printout and we crowded around to see it. It was a recon shot from directly overhead. It showed what appeared to be the tiled roof of a large temple or palace. The roof glistened in the first rays of the dawn. A blue tile roof, draped with long strips of red cloth fluttering in the morning breeze. The strips were arranged in a peculiar pattern-a Legion cross!

  A blood red Legion cross, draped across those blue tiles on the top of the temple. Deadman’s doom! That was Valkyrie all right! No doubt about that at all! A rush of hope shot through my arteries. I had my boots on now. I zipped up the coldcoat and checked my E. We’re on the way, Valkyrie! We’re on the way!

  “Flash-Beta, Gamma, in the drop.”

  “Get those comtops on! Tac mode! Now!” We snapped them over our heads and everything started to come together. Snow Leopard was still talking.

  “All right, there’s the map. It’s a monastery complex. She’s in there someplace. Probably not in the building with the cross, it seems to be open, probably a temple. We’re in first, then Gamma…”

  “Beta, Gamma!” Gamma was calling us.

  “Go!”

  “You take the west, we’ll take the east. We got dibs on the one with the cross.”

  “Tenners!” It was not much of an ops plan, but it would have to do.

  “They’re right behind us!” I craned my neck, and Gamma’s aircar glittered in the dawn behind us, leaving a frosty contrail in its wake. We headed west, the sun rising behind us. I turned
to face front. A cold range of mountains lined the horizon against a blue-black sky. I snapped down the faceplate and clutched my E close to my chest. I felt no need for a mag, none at all.

  Snow Leopard summarized. “If it moves and it doesn’t have blonde hair, kill it.”

  “Tenners.”

  “I don’t want a single door standing when we’re through. She’s there, and we find her! And get out fast! That’s the mission!”

  “I’ll do deceptors and red smoke.” Redhawk’s hand hovered over the launch triggers. He had the maps stuck to the plex.

  “Do it!” Snow Leopard ordered. The monastery complex appeared ahead on the horizon among the peaks, grey clouds slowly dissolving, a line of shadowy buildings materializing like a kingdom in the sky, floating magically in morning mists, the light of the dawn touching tall spires and illuminating great towers of pink stone. With a sudden flash we launched our missiles and watched the contrails as they streaked ahead.

  “Red smoke and deceptors, Gamma.”

  “Tenners.”

  The morning burst over the monastery, a searing white flash and a multiple crack, a mini-nova, shattering the sky. A huge cloud of phospho-pink airburst over the complex and blinding fingers of flame shot down like hot hail, ricocheting everywhere. The bright pink smoke rolled around wildly and enveloped the entire complex in its grip. Streaks of lightning cracked wildly throughout the cloud, red-hot lances.

  “Deceptor, smoke. On target. Approaching target, prep for decar.”

  “Gamma approaching.”

  “Beta, Gamma, we’re in the at.” The extraction team approached, entering the atmosphere. It was a powerful force. If the System wanted to counter them there, it would mean big trouble.

  “Beta, Gamma. Major enemy strike force approaching your target in aircars. We’re moving to intercept.” Adrenalin shot through my system, a freezing burst of fear. A full-scale war!

  “Landing!”

  “Beta, decar!”

  The assault doors popped open. Red smoke rolled in. I leaped out and landed running in a tiled courtyard. Despite the smoke it was as clear as daylight through the darksight of my faceplate. I snapped my E to xmin.

  The aircar shot over my head, gone. We ran, leaping over low stone walls and up stone steps. A figure appeared suddenly before us, chain-mail armor, a cloak flapping about him-holding a spear! I shot him with xmax and the explosion blew him apart, splattering me with blood.

  “Beta down!” Snow Leopard reported our landing.

  “Gamma down!”

  “Beta, Gamma, Val, you do the mission, we’ll handle the visitors.”

  “Tenners!”

  “Ten!”

  Psycho crouched beside me, Manlink at his shoulder, a massive door before us. Our first objective, a great building. Psycho fired and the door exploded into splinters. I switched to gas and fired a burst into the doorway. A cloud of searing yellow gas rolled lazily out into the courtyard.

  “First element entering objective…” Into the gas, a corridor lined with doors. A door opened, a figure stepped out, male, Coldmarker, a Starguard in one hand, confused by the smoke, weaving, his other hand over his mouth. I cut him in half with a burst of xmin, an explosion of gore. Snow Leopard sliced him lengthwise with laser. The Systie’s SG spit a brief burst of laser, riddling the ceiling, and the bloody corpse collapsed to the floor, the SG smoking. Merlin, behind us, had not had a clear shot.

  “Second element entering objective…” Coolhand, Warhound, Dragon and Priestess were into our second target. I stepped over the shredded, dismembered corpse of the Coldmarker, adrenalin pumping wildly. Well-armed for a priest! I slipped on his blood and went down on one knee. I struggled up and threw myself into the doorway from where he had appeared, firing auto v-min. Screams, a blur of movement, the sharp explosions magnified within the stone cell, lancing into my ears-a bull of a man scrambling under a blanket. Terrified, I switched to auto xmin and fired until he was only twitching meat, the walls spattered with blood and gore, the cell full of upturned furniture and a bloody bed. I was still alive. I kicked in another door. A toilet, empty!

  “Thinker here!” I launched myself back into the corridor, shaken. We took individual rooms as fast as we could. Psycho backed out of a room and fired a burst of flame. It exploded inside immediately and lit up Psycho’s figure. Someone screamed. Psycho’s eyes glowed behind his faceplate.

  “Disgusting perverts!”

  “Opscon, Atcon. We are intercepting the enemy aircar fleet. Permission to fire!”

  “Atcon, Opscon. Open fire when ready.”

  “Beta, Gamma-Topcat-still in the drop-we’re on the way.”

  Snow Leopard popped out of a room. “All out cold here! Move! We need a prisoner! No more gas! Keep those E’s on v-min auto!” A stone staircase led up to the next floor. A baldheaded Coldmarker priest came charging down the stairs, a cloth wrapped around his mouth, firing an SG on laser. He ran into a barrage of V, which tore him off his feet. He came tumbling down the stairs like a rag doll, his SG bouncing along by itself. Psycho shot him through the forehead with a laser and his head exploded like a rotten fruit.

  “Deadman!”

  “These religious people are well-armed.”

  “It’s the word of God, Cit,” Psycho laughed.

  “Atcon engaging enemy aircars. All units on autofire.”

  “Topcat approaching target. Hang on, guys!”

  “Beta, Air. I’m giving you air cover.”

  “Gamma, Air. I’m on you, too.”

  “Deto!” Snow Leopard cursed. “Psycho, get out there with your Manlink and shoot down any enemy aircars that get through!” Psycho whirled and went charging back out the entrance. I blew away another door on xmax and came in low, firing on auto v-min. Dust and debris, and something on the floor-a young, bald Coldmarker in a dark robe, gasping.

  “Snow Leopard, Thinker, prisoner!” I dragged him out into the corridor by one leg. A boy with smooth brown skin, only half conscious, his eyelids fluttering. Snow Leopard appeared by my side, scanning the corridor, his E up. Merlin kicked in a door and fired V bolts. It was deafening.

  “Wake him up!” Snow Leopard ordered. I drew my hot knife and plunged the glowing blade into the boy’s arm. His eyes popped open and he shrieked in agony. I pulled the knife out and held it hissing a few mils from his eyeballs. He froze in shock, blood streaming from his arm, cold sweat on his forehead.

  “Good morning,” I said. “I hope you speak Inter. We’re looking for the prisoner. The blonde Legion girl. If you don’t tell me where she is, I’m going to kill you.”

  “No!” he croaked hoarsely. “Don’t kill us!” His Inter was just fine. “It’s in the Abbot’s Retreat. Over there!” He pointed it out shakily with his uninjured arm, gritting his teeth in pain. We could see it out the main door in dark morning light, right next door. A palace set up on high ground, red roofs, yellow banners floating out front, surrounded by low stone walls and terraces.

  I backed off and shot the boy on v-min. He’d live.

  “Beta, Gamma, Snow Leopard! She’s in the building with the red roof and the yellow banners. On me!” He and I charged out the door immediately with Merlin right behind us. The cold hit me right in the chest. Snow! Powdery white flakes drifted slowly down from a leaden grey sky. Our red smoke still drifted here and there, tinting the snow pink. Two figures ran along a terrace by the palace. Snow Leopard and I fired simultaneously on v-min, and they went down. An aircar flashed overhead with a boom and shot up into the grey skies.

  “That’s Gamma!” A madman’s laugh. Psycho, rising up from behind a low wall, his Manlink pointed at the sky. “No Systies yet! Redhawk and Air Gamma are circling. Look at this snow! It’s freaking beautiful!”

  We leaped over low walls, closing in on the building like a pack of swarmers. It was a great sprawling two-storied palace, with a massive double door of metal and wood, the building sparkling in a powdery layer of fine pink snow.

  The air crac
kled viciously just over my head. A section of wall exploded, pitting me with stone fragments. I dropped to my belly in the snow. Snow Leopard lay beside me.

  “Stay down, Beta! We’ve got ‘em spotted.” I recognized Boudicca’s steely voice.

  Another shriek, a tremendous explosion, a brilliant green flash lighting up the sky. Someone came crashing down beside me.

  “Hi, Big Guy!” Scrapper was armed with an E, comtop on, wearing a bulky Legion coldcoat. I could see her pale grey eyes through her faceplate. She always called me Big Guy. I wasn’t sure why.

  “Ooh, that hurt! What should we do now, Chief? Give me the word. Stay put? We can stay put.”

  “No, we’d better move! Now!” We scrambled to our feet and split up, firing on auto xmax. I could barely feel my fingers in the cold. The front of the building was smoking, disintegrating, phospho white and yellow starbursts flashing wildly, streaks of glowing shrapnel cutting through the skies and a sharp, violent crackling, all around us.

  Psycho leapt over a small wall and landed next to me, firing full auto xmax. A mighty shock wave burst over us from above and an ear-shattering bang rolled through the mountains. Up in the snowy sky, a burning, flickering, disintegrating mass showered down from the heavens, a brilliant, flaming rain of death.

  “Enemy aircars here. Where’s Atcon? Where’s Topcat?” Redhawk sounded busy.

  “There’s two more, Beta!”

  “I got ‘em! I got ‘em!”

  “Topcat approaching your zero. We’ll clean your sky, guys.” The extraction team was with us!

  Dragon appeared. He fired auto xmax right into the main doors of the palace and they blew apart, debris ricocheting everywhere.

  The three of us cautiously approached the entrance. Coldmarker bodies sprawled over the terrace, several of them in a tangled pile before the doors, torn to bloody shreds. Systie SGs were scattered around, pitted and smoking. Not your typical religious sanctuary. Another aircar flashed overhead.

  “…it’s ours!”