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Authors: Marshall S. Thomas

BOOK: March of the Legion
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I could see Dragon as well—he had also sought high ground, a burning apartment mod flaming like a torch, wreathed in black smoke. Dragon was on the fifth floor now, kicking in a smoking door, moving through a fierce fire. Bodies lay on the floor all around him, a whole family sprawled in sudden death, a man, a woman, three children, their flesh smouldering.

Dragon took a position by a shattered window and watched his tacmod. He was slowly zeroing the Systies—he had ID'd three positions already from the third floor. If only he could reactivate the squad!

"Beta, Gamma—Beta Eight. Respond! Respond!" He squatted in the flames. His armor was beginning to glow. The building might collapse at any time. I wanted to respond to him, but I couldn't.

"…got two Systies spotted…" the voice was interrupted by a massive burst of static. "…to try to take…" More static. "…goodbye, Eight. Good…" Static. It was Merlin, I realized. Beta Four, the tech, the lab rat, taking on the Systies alone. At that precise moment, Dragon's tacmod spotted another Systie in the whirling chaff from the deceptors.

"Target! Mark!"

"Confirm!" Dragon pulled away from the window. He had four Systies zeroed now. He moved quickly through the flames and out the apartment and along the glowing halls and down the smoking stairway. If he fired from the fifth floor, they would have him. I knew exactly what he was thinking. He could see it was hopeless to try and organize the squad. No, it was all up to him. He was going to go from one target to another until they were all dead, or he was. As he walked carefully down the smoking stairs he set his E to canister. I was suddenly overwhelmed with sorrow for Dragon. Death was here, to claim us all…Dragon's old companion, Death, stalking him still, tracking him all the way to Mongera. Death ultimately embraced all his comrades. He had told me about his curse—some evil crone had branded him for life. "Death will be your shadow!" she had said. "You will bring Death with you like a plague, and everyone you love will die!" He had shot her in the face, but it had all come true—and now he could add Beta and Gamma to the list. It didn't matter, I thought. I was confident Dragon would kill our Systies. All that was important at that moment was to kill Systies. And Dragon was a first-class killer.

I saw Merlin as well. Thinking back on it, I guess all this was instantaneous. But I still remember every last detail. Merlin was almost frozen with terror—I could tell that much—but he was forcing himself on, crawling through the mud like a worm. It was raining heavily and his faceplate was splattered with mud. He was shaking and crying. He must have known he was going to die, he could surely taste it, but he was not whimpering in a hole. He was crawling forward, seeking death like a moth hurling itself into a naked flame. The Systie was right up ahead—Merlin had zeroed him, and Merlin knew the Systie could not spot him through the crumbled wall of rubble that lay between them. All he needed now was a clear shot. Beta Four, the Wiz, Merlin, our own lab rat. He was stalking the Systie like a jungle animal. Boudicca had been right all along, I thought—never trust a Systie! They had waited until the O was dead, and then they had struck. It was treason against humanity. That O was drenched in the blood of the Legion, and the System wanted to steal it away. Beta was gone, sacrificed so that others might live. Merlin was terrified, but he was not going to let the System get away with this.

There—the Systie was in sight. A Systie A-suit, half buried in a pile of rubble behind an SG, wreathed in smoke and ashes as the rain poured down on the fires. Merlin pushed his E out ahead of him and slid the stock into his shoulder. The biobloc fieldfaxer was no good against Systies; he had lasered the weapon and left it smoking in the mud.

The Systie moved—Merlin switched to xmax auto and the laser sight lit up the target. Raindrops danced on his faceplate. Life was so sweet. Merlin must have been insane to join the Legion. He surely did not want to die, but Beta was dying, and he was Beta Four. I watched him gently squeeze the trigger.

It was pouring now, black clouds scudding close overhead, lashing the burning city, a smoking moonscape. I sensed that my soul was fading—something was happening. But there was Millina! She lay in a widening puddle of muddy water behind her E, trembling with hate and terror. A wave of sympathy swept over me. She had switched sides! It was almost miraculous—after all that Valkyrie had said about her. Why? What could have motivated her? Of course they would never have told her about the plans for the aircar—such knowledge is dangerous. They would have simply listened to the progress of the op, and then suddenly neutralized the aircar, and shown up themselves in an identical car, to collect the results. No mess, no fuss.

A brilliant op. Millina knew the System well. And she had switched sides!

The sky flickered and laser snapped over Millina's helmet. Death, we had said, launching the op. Yes, death it was, death for us all, Legion and Systies and O's, death for everyone, without favor or prejudice. And I suddenly understood about Millina. Death was Millina's goddess—Death, a remote pale blind goddess with a black cloth wrapped around her eyes, and a huge sharp sword. And whenever she heard a noise, she swung the sword.

The Hand of the Mocain, suddenly awakening to the truth, after a lifetime of service. I knew Valkyrie was part of the answer. Millina had hit at least two of the DefCorps soldiers as they leaped from the aircar, but they must have had two squads in that car, and most of them made it out before the car had been shot down. One of them was right up ahead, hiding in the energy field of a fiercely burning groundcar. It was time for Millina to play her dangerous game.

"It's Millina! Millina! DefCorps, hold its fire!" Millina shouted it out, her skin crawling as she crept forward. If even one DefCorps soldier had seen her firing at them during the landing, she would die as soon as she exposed herself.

She scrambled to her feet and charged forward into the rain, her E held low. The DefCorps soldier was on his belly in the flames from the burning groundcar. His SG was up and scanning. He motioned Millina down with one hand. She hit the ground, breathing hard. Rain hissed off her A-suit. She switched to laser. All those years, in the service of a false god. All that misdirected hate. It wasn't enough, to betray humanity. Now she had to betray the System as well. I felt an indescribable sadness, for Millina. Then she stood up and fired laser, right into the DefCorps soldier's A-suit.

###

It came out of nowhere in a heavy sheet of rain, spitting tacstars, booming past in a heartbeat, gone, back into the dark sky. Micronukes erupted in its wake, sudden flashes, the earth shaking, and a winking forest of phospho fireballs, rising to the sky. Lightning flickered wildly, and there was a stunned pause as a great crackling roar rolled over the battlefield.

My head was throbbing. My faceplate was covered with mud. I strained to move—a black cloud of pain. I squirmed over on to my back. Tacstars rose all around me. I smeared the mud around on my visor and stared out stupidly. Alive—I was alive! And back in my body!

"Cover me, gang…" Who was that? It was Merlin, suddenly up and running towards our tragic pile of shattered A-suits, Coolhand and Snow Leopard and Priestess and me. Merlin, for God's sake, throwing himself away, for Beta. Behind him, Psycho suddenly appeared, running forward firing his chainlink, full auto x, hosing down everything in sight to cover Merlin. Tacstars erupted in great, glowing flashes. Psycho hit every building in the vicinity. The buildings disintegrated, spitting phospho streaks, the sky full of junk, the buildings falling slowly in massive clouds of dust and Psycho crouched there, a perfect target, panting and screaming, finger fixed on the trigger, firing right over Merlin's helmet.

It was a nuclear morning for Fernveldt.

###

The escape pod hovered a few mikes over the smoking earth of what had once been Fernveldt City, and the access door snapped open and a girl appeared, an E in one hand, the other hand covering her mouth. The girl was unarmored, her hair blowing in the backblast. She paused briefly in the doorway, then leaped to the ground. I was still in the mud beside Priestess, too weak to move. I had ripped open my medkit and spread medpads all over her wounds, but the blood was bubbling up around the bandages and I didn't know what to do. I couldn't understand why nobody was helping me. What had happened to Merlin? Perhaps we were still fighting. It slowly dawned on me that the escape pod had strafed the Systies and probably turned the tide of the battle. And then I recognized the girl. It was Tara.

Dragon faced her with his E. Behind her, in the escape pod's doorway, a second person appeared. A savage face, heavy brows, violet uniform, also unarmored but wielding an E—it was the humanoid, Tara's pet! What was his name? Gildron! How had he gotten loose? He leaped to the ground, snarling and holding his E up warily.

"You!" Dragon exclaimed to Tara in total surprise. "Good shooting! We need evac, now! We've got dead and wounded!"

Tara stood there gaping at the scene of devastation around her. The entire city had been nuked. Not a building remained standing, and the sky was a poisonous brew of writhing fireballs. Fierce fires roared up to the sky. Nuclear light glowed on her face. A hot breeze carried a misty rain, stinging her flesh, and the fires flickered all around her. It was a miracle anyone had survived. The A-suited delegation before her was covered with mud and blood.

"Bring me your casualties," she responded.

"I've got life!" Merlin and Valkyrie were hauling shattered A-suits through the mud to the escape pod.

"Where are the others?" An eerie silence settled over the battlefield. There was only a deep rumbling from the sky. Psycho stopped firing. Smoke curled all around him—his chainlink was glowing.

"Everyone to the escape pod! Where's Gamma Five and Seven? Check the casualties! Quick!"

I was vaguely conscious of A-suited figures struggling above me. Then I was moving, under luminous skies. Priestess, don't forget Priestess, I struggled to say, but I could not. Someone's faceplate came close to mine. Horribly scarred plex, but I could make out the face—Valkyrie! Just for an instant she was there, and it was like a kiss, the kiss of life.

"Thinker…Thinker! Stay with us, Thinker!" Then she was gone. A quick glimpse of Merlin, and I was on my back again, and a hot wind was blowing debris all around us.

The escape pod exploded with a tremendous crack, dazzling and deafening me, the shock wave knocking everyone flat. When I struggled to my elbows in the mud, I saw the escape pod had been blown into the sky and was disintegrating, separate sections flaming through the air trailing white phospho smoke. The wreckage impacted several K away, testifying to the force of the hit, multiple flashes, multiple booms. My tacmod shrieked. A tacstar had exploded right on the escape pod. Dragon brought his E around in a slow motion blur towards a Systie soldier staggering from a smoking pile of rubble, Manlink at his shoulder. Dragon fired, Psycho fired, Merlin fired, Valkyrie fired, even the humanoid fired—another nuke shimmered and rose and the Systie was gone, snuffed out like a candle.

Tara was face-down in the mud, stunned. The humanoid was on his knees beside her, his eyes glazed over. I couldn't even get off the ground, but Dragon was there. He gently turned Tara over and held her in his arms.

"They got your ship—I'm sorry," Dragon said. The tacnet was working now and I could hear every word. It was like the crack of doom. It was hopeless now, I knew—Redhawk had to be dead. There would be no evac for us.

Tara's lips moved. Her hands came up. She activated her wristcom. "Whit—Whit, come. Come." It was a whisper. How could anyone possibly hear her, under this nuclear holocaust? Impossible.

"Coming!" The reply came immediately. "On the way, Commander!" My heart leaped. The Gods were there after all!

A huge, hairy hand placed itself on Dragon's armored chest and gently pushed him away from Tara. Gildron reached down and took her in his arms and stood up, Tara's arms and legs dangling, Gildron's E hanging loosely from one arm, a light hot rain hissing down all around them. Gildron looked around the sky in despair, rolling his eyes and snarling quietly. It was as if his whole world was ending.

Chapter 12:
Ghost Riders

The aircar appeared in a halo of rain and mist, a pale, fragile vision, hissing magically up to Badboy's position, hovering in the air, spraying a storm of mud and water. My head whirled. Lying on my back, I thought I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. It was a pure white aircar, Tara's personal car, which had ridden in the
Highroad
down to Mongera. It did not belong out here, I thought, in the firestorm.

I tried to move my limbs. A bloody, glistening cenite arm appeared before me, then fell away. Bad idea. Voices echoed in my helmet.

"Get in! Get in!"

"Faster!"

"Oh my God."

"Cinta, three DefCorps aircars, coming quick!"

"Aircars!"

"Systie aircars!" Dragon exclaimed. "Psycho—cover us! Load 'em up, gang!"

Psycho charged off into the rain, his chainlink going up. Merlin and Dragon, splattered with mud, seized me under the arms and tossed me effortlessly into the aircar with a crash. I did not even feel it. Valkyrie pulled me to one side, then stepped over me.

Full auto tacstars whistled and ripped through the air, tingling my skin, the stars hissing and roaring. The sky exploded, airburst nukes, a sky of fire for the Systie aircars.

Someone screamed. Someone else was crying. Armored bodies slid along a bloody metal floor. Frantic activity. I tried to raise my head—I could not.

"That's One, Three, Two—Gamma One—Nine!" Dragon and Merlin were hauling Priestess towards the aircar. I knew her wounds were bad.

"Gamma, I think she's alive." Valkyrie helped drag Priestess into the aircar. There was blood everywhere.

"Coolhand is critical!"

"Snow Leopard is still bleeding!"

"Hurry! DefCorps aircars are here!" Tara's exec Whit was in the pilot's seat all by herself, calling out to Valkyrie. "They're here!"

Psycho was still firing outside and the sky was full of nuclear clouds, spitting an unholy white light. The humanoid leaped into the aircar, carrying Tara in his arms.

"Gamma! Help us!" Dragon and Merlin struggled with a body. Valkyrie helped them drag it in. It was Warhound, who died for us all, his A-suit horribly burned. Then there was another—Ironman, a helpless, dead A-suit. Valkyrie slipped in the blood and went to one knee.

Another scream. Who was alive, who was dead? Whit was out of her seat, hurrying to her Commander. "Oh my God! Cinta! Oh! Hurry, hurry! They're circling!"

"Get back in your seat, pilot!"

"Coolhand is hit bad!"

"I've zeroed Gamma Five and Seven!"

"Where are they?"

"Wait for us! Be right back!" Dragon and Merlin whirled around and disappeared into the smoke, splashing wildly through the mud.

"No! No! Come back! Oh my God!" Whit was ready for a complete breakdown.

Out the open assault door Dragon and Merlin paused at a glowing tacstar crater full of rubble from a collapsed building. They found two Legion A-suits trapped in the wreckage, one covering the other.

"Get them out." Dragon frantically tore at the rubble with his hands. Merlin pulled at the first A-suit.

"It's Sassin."

"Is he alive?"

"Don't know."

"Help…help." A whisper.

"Five!" Scrapper, stunned but alive.

"Aircar attacking!" Psycho fired his chainlink again, white-hot tacstars ripping overhead. Dragon and Merlin raised their E's and fired into the raging sky. Nuclear airbursts, hot hail splattering all around them. Merlin dropped his E and pulled Sassin from the rubble. Dragon got ahold of Scrapper. A flaming inferno above, splitting into fragments, trailing black smoke.

Psycho stood alone in the mud, watching the Systie aircar break apart above him. Direct hit! The sky was his! He let loose another burst, giggling to himself. His sky—his! The other aircars circled, warily.

"Systies! Systies! I'm here! Right here! Can't you see me? Closer! Come closer! I want to kiss you!" Psycho burst into demonic laughter. "Just a little kiss! Here—taste it!" He let loose another burst, up into the burning sky. He was staggering in the mud, looking up and laughing.

Two more shattered A-suits, Dragon and Merlin dragging them, splattering through the mud. Gamma Two reached out to haul them into the aircar.

"Bring the O."

"We don't have time!"

"Bring the O!"

Another corpse, this one charred and smoking, obscene black unreal armored body parts, all wrong, still sizzling, falling apart as they slid it into the car. Alien limbs, twitching. Alien blood, hissing onto the deck. A revolting stench.

"Scut! Is that it?"

"Another attack! He's launched!" A warning from Whit.

Psycho fired immediately, a long tacstar burst. The ground shook. The aircar shrieked.

"Board, Psycho—now!" Dragon and Merlin leaped in. Then Psycho hurtled in head-first, his chainlink slamming against the ceiling. The aircar moved, picking up speed, rain and spray hissing over us from the open door.

"Wait! Don't leave us! Take us! We helped it!" A Systie A-suit was running alongside—it was Millina.

"Shoot her," Dragon said, reaching for his E. I came to life, my one good hand locking onto Dragon's arm.

"No!" I shouted, "Help her! She shot the Systies! I saw her!"

"What do we do? God!" Whit hesitated, the aircar gliding forward slowly, barely moving, the Systie aircars already on their firing runs.

Valkyrie leaned out the door, extending her E in one hand, barrel out. Millina ran alongside, her arms outstretched. Only an instant, for Millina to decide. Gamma Two, Legion, her slave, leaning out with her E, the barrel pointed right at Millina. Pale green eyes, a whole new world, life or death, reach out and taste your fate. Millina seized the barrel of the E with both hands. Her feet left the ground. Valkyrie and Dragon hauled her in. She collapsed on the deck, gasping, hysterical. Whit hit the throttle and the aircar spat flame and the assault door slammed shut and Fernveldt blurred and vanished in a flash of tacstars.

"Thinker's stable."

Stable, stable, stable, echoing in my helmet. Someone opened my visor. It was Valkyrie, a flash of her pale face, icy green eyes. She turned away. Pandemonium erupted. I desperately tried to get off my back and crawl over to Priestess—the pain was overwhelming. Somebody screamed, and I think it was me.

"One's bleeding. I can't stop the bleeding!"

"Give me the cyro!"

"Hold still there—don't move it!"

"Open the visor."

"Coolhand—Deadman! Help Coolhand!"

"Priestess! Can you hear me?"

"Gamma, gimme a charge!"

"Priestess is hit bad!"

"He's not breathing!"

"Sassin! He's alive!"

"The charger! Quick!"

"Deadman! Hold still!"

I forced myself over to Priestess's prone A-suit, the car whirling around me, cold sweat on my brow, acid burning in my mouth.

"Priestess—Priestess!" Her visor was open. Her eyes were open. She gasped for air. Valkyrie was unlinking Nine's armor—she had been hit in the chest. Blood oozed out of the armor. My crude medpads fell away, soaked in blood.

Another scream. This time it was not me. Dragon tossed Valkyrie a bloody biotic charger. She pressed it onto Priestess's scarlet chest. Priestess's eyes flickered and closed. She breathed deeply and shuddered.

"Don't let her die!"

"Get out of the way, Thinker—you can't help. I need a cyro!"

"Deadman! Sassin is in bad shape!"

"What about Coolhand?"

"He's dying, Gamma! Gimme the charger!"

"Unlink, unlink!"

"Ohhh no—no!"

"Stop the bleeding!"

"Coolhand, Coolhand, can you hear me?"

"He's not breathing!"

"No! No! God no!"

"Biotic charge! Quick!"

Valkyrie bent over Coolhand, frantically working to unlink his bloody armor. Blood was splattered everywhere. It was a charnel house, a butcher shop. I struggled to retain consciousness. It whirled around me. I found Priestess's hand and took it in mine and closed my eyes and prayed. Just let her live, I thought. Just let her live! I'll do your will, I'll kill Systies the rest of my life, whatever you want! Just let her live.

"Sassin! Critical! Now!" Another mad scramble.

Shattered, scarred armor, black blood on the deck, a massive, alien limb, burnt to a crisp—the O! Its head was at my feet, encased in melted armor deformed by plasma.

The humanoid sat beside me, cradling Tara in his arms. She was pale and still, her eyes closed. Lord, she was just like an angel, a wounded angel. The humanoid was crying, running his blunt, hairy fingers through her silken hair.

"DefCorps aircars closing!" Whit shouted. "What do we do?"

Millina scrambled up to the cockpit, sliding on the blood, tearing at her visor. "Is it on Mongeran freaks?" Millina asked.

"Affirmative—two of them!"

"ATTENTION! WE ARE BEING TARGETED FOR ATTACK! HOSTILE LOCK-ON!" The aircar boomed out the warning. Millina hit the transmit tab.

"DefCorps aircars, attention! This is Millina, repeat, Millina! Hold its fire! We have seized control of the aircar! Repeat, the System has control of this aircar! Enemy units all terminated! Acknowledge!"

"Acknowledge it has control of the aircar. Slow down and land, Millina. Does it need assistance?"

"Negative. Negative, we have seriously wounded here, please escort us back to Mongera Port, acknowledge."

"They're still locked on!" Whit reported.

"Lock on lifted," the ship corrected her.

"Slow down, Millina! We're coming alongside. Who is on board? Report!"

"DefCorps, our comrades are dying! Escort us in! Alert the port!" Millina took her hand off the transmit tab. "Don't slow down! Fast as it can! The bastard is coming alongside us."

"Psycho," Dragon said cautiously, "take position by the door. Pilot, you do exactly as I say. Be prepared to take evasive action."

"Affirmative! Do it quick, whatever it is!"

An enemy aircar slid close in behind us, easing in to our left.

"Nobody move! Heads down! Millina, wave at him or something."

Right alongside us now, an ugly wedge of burnt black armor ramming its way through the air, hot cenite death, all the power and pain of the System, functional and deadly and excruciatingly lovely, so lovely I could hardly believe it. Millina waved from the cockpit. The Systie pilot could see her and Whit sitting together up front.

"Millina, report its status and casualties immediately!"

"He's not buying it!"

"Whit, open the door! Psycho, chainlink! Hold on, gang!" The door snapped open suddenly, a great roar as a typhoon of air rushed in, loose gear exploding all around us. The Systie pilot's eyes widened as Five fired full auto tacstar, and the enemy aircar exploded, a blinding nuclear flash; and our own aircar was blown aside like a leaf in a storm, falling, rolling, chaos, everyone screaming, upside down, then back again, crashing down towards the deck in a wild pile of bodies. Whit regained control of the car. Dragon landed on top of me. He scrambled off, stunned.

"Deadman! Is everyone still here?"

"The door! The door!"

The door slid shut. Chaos reigned.

"Help me! It's Sassin!"

"Oh no! Where's the medkit?"

"Where's the other aircar?"

"Badboy, Big Kid! We've got a distress beacon—it's your aircar jock, Beta Ten. Badboy, Big Kid, repeat, distress beacon from your aircar jock—do you read it, acknowledge?"

"Oh, Deadman!"

"Aircar closing—this is…"

"Evade, evade!"

"That's Ten! Beta Ten! Are you getting that signal?"

"Badboy, Big Kid—we've got you on scope, one Systie aircar behind you, closing fast. What's your status, over?"

"Oh, we're fine—SCUT!"

"No life signs from Coolhand!"

"Mag charge! Keep him alive, Valkyrie!"

"Sassin—critical!"

"Oh damn! Damn damn damn damn!"

"Deadman, don't let him die!"

"Deceptors!" Whit slammed a tiny fist down on the controls and the sky exploded all around us and we were in a hot drop to the deck and suddenly in a forest, crashing through the underbrush, a leafy green cathedral all around us, black tree trunks flashing past like ancient stone columns. Whit took us to a faint stream and we followed it into the woods, mikes above the water, trailing a shock wave of water vapor and shredded leaves.

"We've got to pick up Redhawk."

"Keep going, pilot! You're leaving him behind!"

"Coolhand, Coolhand! Please! Live, damn you, live! Coolhand!"

"We go to pick up Redhawk, now! Do you have the beacon on scope?"

"No response! There's no response! Hit it again!"

"Affirmative. Just let us shake this aircar." Whit's face was beaded with cold sweat. The deceptors had done the trick. The DefCorps aircar was wasting time dealing with phantoms.

I could taste the mags on my tongue—it was all that was keeping me conscious. Priestess was curled in a foetal ball under a tangle of equipment. I tore it away, frantic. Bloody fleshpads, all over her chest. Her eyes were open—she was breathing!

"Priestess, Priestess—answer me!" Her eyes focused on me. Her mouth opened.

"Thinker…"

"Don't talk! I'm right here! You're all right—stay awake!"

"…hurts…"

"Gimme that medpack!"

A hand on my arm. It was Merlin. "She's had a charge, Thinker. No more!"

"You stay awake, Priestess!"

"Faster! Have you got the zero?"

"Got it, got it!"

"No response!" A muffled scream from Valkyrie. She hit the charge again, again, again. "Please…please…please…" It was Coolhand they were working on, I slowly realized. I watched, stunned. It was like a fever dream, and Dragon and Valkyrie were armored demons hovering over one of their own, the A-suit still glowing, scarlet blood bubbling.

"No response."

"No! No! No! No!" Valkyrie continued triggering the biotic charger. Coolhand's blood splattered all over his A-suit, but he was not there any more. He had joined the phantom army, the Legion of the Dead. I turned my head away.

He had been my first friend in the Legion. I could not believe it. I simply could not grasp it. It was a mistake. Surely it was a mistake.

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