Legionnaire

by Jason Anspach

  Eighty men rolled out of Camp Forge. Forty-six remain. Basics and legionnaires alike are gathered around to hear the results and receive their orders to move. Twenties and other leej sharpshooters are stationed on overwatch, but the koobs aren’t going to come for another visit. Not yet. We killed every last hostile out here, and any non-combatants are locked up in a hut under guard until we roll out.

  Wraith is standing by my side. Devers is nowhere to be seen. No surprise. He has to know he’s not being voted Victory Company CO.

  “Captain Ford,” I call out, loud enough to be heard clearly by all. “I’ve received all twenty-nine legionnaire votes. By a margin of twenty-nine to zero, Captain Ford has been elected acting CO of Victory Company.”

  A cheer goes up from the legionnaires. A few basics join in as well.

  Wraith nods and raises his hand for silence. His helmet’s external mic is set high, giving the effect of speaking through an amp-horn. “Thank you, men. I won’t stop fighting for you. I ask in return you fight for me and the Legionnaire Corps I represent. The Corps we represent. Now, I understand from Doc Quigs that Pappy is under sedation and a cycler bot is patching him up on the inside. We’re set to speed into Moona Village, complete our mission, and get back to CF. We do that quickly, and Pappy should be just fine.”

  Wraith moves in a slow semicircle, looking at the helmet or face of each and every legionnaire. “Nothing has changed, gentlemen. The mission is on. Full green. If the koobs want to try something, they’ll find that a company of legionnaires at half strength is no less deadly. Especially when we go in with KTF as the directive. And per Pappy, and me, that is the directive. Any questions?”

  A Repub-Army second lieutenant raises his hand. He’s a point, but must not be as connected as Devers because he’s a basic instead of a legionnaire. “Why isn’t Repub-Army given a say in the mission CO? This is a joint-force operation.”

  Exo adjusts the heavy APR launcher on his shoulder. “You know what koobs did in the Savage Wars to the battlefield dead? Chopped ’em up and turned ’em into koob stew. You basics are only gonna survive if the legionnaires lead the way back to CF. And we ain’t fightin’ under the command of no point.”

  There’s slight murmur at this. Wraith raises his hand. “That’s enough, LS-67. Lieutenant, this is now a legionnaire-run operation. You don’t have to like it, but you need to accept it.” He puts a hand to the side of his helmet. “I’m informed that the last of the wounded have been loaded onto the med-sleds. Let’s give these soldiers the proper honors and then load up. Sergeant Powell?”

  The sergeant of Specter Squad steps forward smartly. “Ten-shun!”

  A cadre of legionnaires and basics snap into a rigid attention. The sound of their feet stamping on the ground reverberates off the stone walls. I make my way to the funeral pyre, thermite grenade in hand.

  Wraith speaks words every legionnaire has come to know by heart. “These that lay at rest have sacrificed themselves so their brothers may live. They have sacrificed themselves for the Republic under which we all stand. May their names be synonymous with the honor of our great Republic. Sergeant.”

  Sergeant Powell holds out a datapad. “LS-65. Kravetz, Byl!”

  “Ooah!” we shout in reply.

  “LS-43. Davish, Nateen!”

  “Ooah!”

  “LS-61. Granite, M—”

  “This ceremony is out of order.”

  I turn to see Captain Devers walk into the midst of the ceremony. “If I’m not mistaken—I am, after all, only a point—it is the job of the company commanding officer to hold the memorial service.”

  I grit my teeth. “Captain Devers, sir! Legionnaire vote between Captains Ford and Devers resulted in Captain Ford being granted the position of Victory Company CO.”

  “I understand that to be the case, Lieutenant Chhun.” Devers flicks a speck of dirt, visible only to him, from his armor. “However, the vote was premature. Colonel Hilbert—Pappy—made me brevet major shortly before he underwent sedation for the cycler bot insertion.”

  Every soldier stands in stunned silence. There is no way this could be true. Pappy wouldn’t…

  “Therefore, I am very much in command of Victory Company.”

  08

  “Oh, hell no!” Exo shakes his rifle menacingly at Captain Devers. His helmet is on, but there’s no mistaking the anger in his voice. “Ain’t no way—ain’t no way!—that Pappy made this point a major.”

  A wave of approval at Exo’s words ripples through the legionnaires. But the basics aren’t so sure; they’re speaking quietly to one another, and their unease is on display in the way they awkwardly hold their arms and shift from one foot to the other.

  Captain Ford holds up a hand, indicating his desire for Exo to stop talking. “You know the protocols, Captain Devers. A field promotion requires at least two officers or NCOs as witnesses, excluding the soldier promoted.”

  “The major will of course validate my claims once the cycler does its work and he’s awakened.”

  “Sergeant Quigly!” Captain Ford shouts, calling for the medic to appear from the crowd.

  Doc Quigs runs from his place at the back of a medical sled. “Yes, sir?”

  “Did you witness Major Hilbert awarding the rank of brevet major to Captain Devers before you induced a medical coma?”

  “No, sir. Captain Devers was in the room at the time of the administration of the narco-port, but I did not hear such a conversation.”

  Wraith nods. “Was there any time you were not present in the room?”

  “I was there the whole time. Not at Pappy’s side, mind you, but in the room.”

  “That’s when it happened,” Captain Devers chimes in. “While LS-75 was tending to other duties and Major Hilbert was slipping under sedation. He must have realized at the last moment that in promoting you to captain, he had not identified a clear commanding officer. Not desiring this, he awarded me the rank of major.”

  Exo leaves his place among the men and strides into the fray. “This is a load of twarg dung!”

  “Stand down, LS-67!” I shout, doing my best impression of a legionnaire drill instructor.

  Perhaps surprised by my calling him by his serial tag, Exo takes a step backward and shuts up.

  Captain Devers is nonplussed. “I was in complete control of the situation, Lieutenant Chhun.”

  “Listen, Captain,” Wraith says. “Without a witness, there’s no way I can cede command of Victory Company to you.”

  “What are you insinuating, Captain Ford?” Devers’s voice is menacing, but he keeps a safe distance between himself and Wraith. “That I’m lying?”

  “No insinuation.” As always, Wraith’s voice is completely calm and even. “Just acting based on the facts of the situation. A field promotion without a witness is not valid.”

  “Major Devers was appointed to the Legionnaire Corps by one of the most prestigious delegates serving in the House of Reason.” The comment comes from somewhere in the back, among the basics. It belongs to the Repub-Army point. “To suggest the major is lying is tantamount to calling Delegate Orrin Kaar himself a liar.”

  Exo spins around to confront the basic lieutenant. “Another point with something to say. No surprise there. We ain’t speedin’ out with Devers in command!”

  The point crosses his arms in defiance. “These sleds won’t move until Major Devers’s rank is acknowledged. I’ll employ an auxiliary lock that will keep them grounded.”

  “Nah.” Exo is getting worked up, pacing back and forth. “It ain’t happenin’. You wanna shut down the sleds? Won’t be the first time leejes have walked. We’ll even complement eyes right when we march past y’all on the way back. You’ll be chopped up and served on a koob dinner table by then, but we’ll acknowledge you for sure.”

  Things are getting out of hand.

  Exo’s speech is punctuated with “Ooah!” by most of the leejes present. He’s giving voice to what they’re all thinking. Hell, he’s giving v
oice to what I’m thinking. Legionnaires have always bristled at Republic interference. Though we serve the Republic, we were designed to have a certain… independence. Tell us what to do, not how to do it.

  We were founded at the start of the Savage Wars. A time when the galaxy and the Republic needed a win at all costs. Win or die. The legionnaires were run by those who fought, those who knew the terrible cost of losing. Those who did what was needed. Freed from the interference of politicians undertaking their favorite hobby—playing general—the legionnaires deployed throughout the galaxy and turned the tide of the Savage Wars.

  All that’s changed now. The Republic can’t get the legionnaires into a bureaucratic-made quagmire fast enough. Every point placed in our ranks, every time Repub-Army, Repub-Navy, or even the Repub-Marines saddle up on a joint op and tells us how to run it, the Legionnaire Corps falls a little more under the full control of the Senate and House of Reason.

  Rumors of point-heavy legionnaire squads being used to collect taxes or serve as personal bodyguards have spread from ship to ship like space lice. Victory Company almost lost its most storied commander, Pappy, because of a joint order not to KTF. The men are hot, and if they wanted to, they could dust every single basic out here before they could remove blaster from holster in self-defense.

  But that can’t happen. We can’t break that code. I can’t accept a commission from Pappy and then let that unfold.

  “Everyone needs to calm down,” I say, putting a hand on Exo’s armor and attempting to push him back into the line. Rook and Twenties step in to help hold him back. I leave Exo with his squadmates. “There are more than enough koobs on this planet to scrap with. We don’t need to fight each other.”

  “Indeed,” Devers says. He rubs his thumb and index finger together as though he were inspecting for dust. “Lieutenant, I understand that you’re new to your rank, so I’ll grant some leeway on how you’re handling your legionnaires. But let’s not waste any further time. I desire only that we complete the mission. This isn’t something I’d lie about. Think about it. Pappy—the major—would reveal the truth the moment he came to. I’d face a court-martial. There’s no compelling reason not to believe me… or to follow my orders.”

  “I’ve got a compelling reason!” Exo breaks free from the grasp of Rook and Twenties. Or maybe they let him go. I don’t know, because what happens next is so fast that it feels like reality just skipped a beat. Like we jumped forward in time. Exo busts loose, and not a second later his N-4 is out and he’s pointing it at Devers’s head.

  “Sket! Exo!” I shout.

  “Nah!” Exo pulls off his bucket and drops it on the ground. “Take off your helmet, Point. I want everyone to see the look in your eyes.”

  “Put down your weapon,” I say to Exo.

  “He said no compelling reason,” Exo growls. “Well I got a reason. A whole stack of ’em lying dead on that pallet. And a court-martial? Ha! We all know points don’t pay the price for their screwups. Friends in high places, you know? Now, take off your damn helmet!”

  Slowly, Captain Devers lifts his helmet from his head. He’s covered in perspiration, and his eyes are wide with fear. They dart around wildly. With an effort, he meets Exo’s gaze and calms himself. When he speaks, there’s a confidence that straddles the line between resolve and false bravado. Years of political training are put to use against a deadly threat. “You’ll be sent to the mines of Darus for this.”

  Exo’s finger is on the trigger, ready to fire. He shakes off the threat with a fractional motion of his head. “It’ll be worth it. Why don’t you explain to us how you got off that sled? Sled leader is last out. Last out! Last in line. But you, you were the first one off. The only one off! How the hell’d you get to the front of the line, Point?” He’s working himself into a frenzy, jabbing the barrel of his rifle toward Devers with every sentence.

  In an instant, I see hell start to break loose. The basic point reaches for his sidearm, and I think the shooting is sure to start.

  Wraith pulls his own service blaster pistol with such speed that I can’t believe my eyes. He’s covering the point even as some of the other basics move for their own blasters. “Don’t!” Wraith yells. “Don’t.”

  The basics hold still, but we’re rapidly devolving into a standoff.

  “Answer me, you kelhorned space rat!” Exo backs up a few steps, still pointing his N-4 at Devers.

  “C-Captain Ford.” Devers, pretender to the crown, is frozen in terror. “Captain Ford!”

  Wraith speaks calmly to Devers. “Devers, follow the protocol.”

  Devers gives a slight shake of his head, unwilling to back down from his claims. There’s no way Pappy promoted him, so he’s either crazy or he’s bluffing.

  Exo is having none of it. “Forget protocol, this point deserves to be dusted!”

  “Lieutenant Chhun,” Wraith says, just as easy as though he were asking for the morning headlines. “Calm your man down.”

  I shout, “Lower your weapon, Exo!”

  “How’d you get clear, Point? You jumped out and left Gold Squad to die!”

  “Dammit, Exo! Stand down!”

  Seeing that Exo and I are yelling past one another, Wraith speaks softly to Devers. “We won’t survive this. We have to maintain a unified front. Hurricane. Hurricane.”

  Exo’s focus is singular and lethal. “I said answer me, Point!”

  “Lieutenant Chhun…” Wraith implores me to diffuse the situation. He doesn’t need me to, though. He could drop Exo in the blink of an eye if that’s what he wanted.

  At this point, I’m convinced that Exo is going to dust Captain Devers whether he speaks or not. His gloved finger is twitching on the trigger so rapidly I’m surprised—no, amazed—that the N-4 hasn’t already discharged. So, I just… act. I step in front of Devers and into the line of fire. I half expect a blaster bolt at center mass.

  It doesn’t come.

  “Out of the way, Sarge.”

  “Lieutenant,” I correct.

  This causes Exo to pause a moment. “Out of the way, Lieutenant.”

  “Can’t do that. Pappy gave me a job to do, and I’m going to do it. You’re thinking of crossing the line. If you do, it’s gonna start with shooting a fellow leej.”

  I can see Exo hesitate. Behind him, Twenties slyly pulls his blaster pistol and points it at Exo’s back. He’s watching me, waiting for my signal.

  Exo takes his hand off his rifle’s forward grip and jabs a finger at Devers. “That point will get us dusted just like the rest of Gold Squad.”

  “We won’t let that happen. Now drop your weapon.”

  After a brief hesitation, an inner dialogue playing out its parts, Exo lowers his N-4. Rook and Twenties step forward and take the weapon from their squadmate’s hands. I exhale.

  Devers’s mouth curls with bitter enmity. “I expect that soldier to receive fifty lashes and await court-martial!”

  “One problem at a time,” Wraith says. “We won’t acknowledge you as a major without the appropriate witnesses. But we need to get going. I’ll take combat command and control, and you can handle logistics and negotiations with the chieftain. Take it or stay here and leave it, because we’re speeding out now.”

  Wraith walks past Devers and calls out to the men, “Sergeant Powell is going to finish the memorial roll, then I want every sled full within five minutes!”

  He turns to look back at Captain Devers. “You taking it or leaving it, Devers?”

  The look of contempt on the point’s face is unmistakable. “Very well.”

  I move past Devers to ready the fire at the funeral pyre. He calls out after me. “Lieutenant, I expect that you enforce corporal discipline on that legionnaire as soon as is practicable. I further expect you to dole out the punishment personally.”

  Stopping to look the point in the eyes, I say, “We aren’t going to be anything close to ‘practicable’ until we get back to CF. We need every fighter we have at our disposal, and Exo is on
e of our best.”

  Devers doesn’t seem to have a reply, and I’m not waiting around for one. I walk in somber cadence to the pallet of the dead as Sergeant Powell calls out the names and numbers of the legionnaires to lose their life that day.

  09

  The ride to Moona Village is uneventful. It’s what the entire trip was supposed to be like. I spend most of it in the back of a sled with that tight feeling, like all my abdominal muscles are flexed so hard that my insides feel compressed. Just waiting for hell to open back up on us.

  Exo, Twenties, and Rook hopped in another sled. Nothing personal. Exo needed the time to cool off, and I needed to have some time to talk with the newest members of Doomsday Squad. Given the casualties from the ambush, Captain Ford determined to combine all remaining legionnaires into Doomsday or Specter.

  “Exo wasn’t wrong, sir.” The comment comes from a leej named Aaldon Masters, LS-316. Young kid, maybe twenty standard years. He was already in Doomsday, riding second sled at the time of the ambush.

  I expected this. Devers may not know it, but the only thing that saved his life was Captain Ford’s and my unwillingness to allow him to be summarily executed for what he let happen on that sled. While the point is probably safely daydreaming about Exo getting lashes—I noted that he made sure to get on a sled full of basics—the facts of the matter are that he’s going to come under investigation for leaving his place as CS sled master with Gold Squad.

  Of course, him being a point, it’ll all get swept under the rug. He’ll get reassigned someplace cushy and fade into military obscurity, drifting from memory until he shows up on a holofeed pushing some invasive law that tears yet another tiny piece away from the Constitution of the Republic. He’ll recall his military service while he does it, too. I can see myself in a cantina somewhere, knocking back a taza of mithryne and mumbling, “Shoulda let him get dusted” to the bartender.

  No sense worrying about the future now though. Maybe Pappy will find a way to make Devers pay for his neglect of duty. Maybe the captain won’t make it back to CF alive. Maybe none of us will.