Marshall Thomas: Soldier of the Legion

He paused again, but this time absolute silence filled the room. “With their starport on Andrion 3, they needed a nearby source of food. They introduced the exosegs to Andrion 2 to harvest the Taka for them, and bring the victims to the Systies-programming the exosegs was no problem for powerful psychers like the O’s. The System then transported the Taka to Andrion 3 for consumption by their partners, the O’s. In addition, the exosegs ensured that the natives kept their distance from the unitium mines and never learned about the presence of the Systies. I’m sure it made perfect sense to the O’s. And it worked fine, until we showed up.”

The revelation stunned us all. I felt sick to my stomach. We all knew what it meant. The Omnis were an alien scourge, totally evil, totally merciless, responsible for the annihilation of billions of humans. We felt only hatred for them. War with the O’s was total war, war to the death, war without mercy, war without conscience, remorse or pity. Some ignorant Inner once said that if the Omnis did not exist the Legion would have had to invent them. But the Omnis did exist, and our fathers had fought them, and died by the billions, and for any Soldier of the Legion they were the ultimate mission.

“It tells us exactly what the System is,” Cubes said, quietly. “It’s been quiet in the Outers for many years, ever since the end of the Race Wars. And now we know why. The System has been providing the O’s, all these years, with something they want-unitium-in return for a temporary peace, a cessation of hostilities against System worlds. There aren’t really any words to describe this kind of treason. Species autogenocide…perhaps we could call it that. Or generational genocide…making your children die for your sins. Perhaps that’s what the System will be charged with, when accounts are settled. And I can assure you accounts will be settled, for this one. This is the most important secret the Legion has ever uncovered, and it is the System’s greatest crime against humanity. Against life itself.

“It appears, from what we’ve learned, that the O’s are now more powerful than they were before.” For the first time he turned, and glanced over at the other officers sitting on the stage. “They were bad enough before. Bad enough.”

He turned back to face us. “We are currently on our way to Andrion 3. We will be joined there by Atom’s entire strike force. The 12th Colonial Expeditionary Regiment is no longer an expeditionary force. We are now a recon element. The entire 22nd Legion is on vac run red at this moment. ConFree is resisting us on this, but we have no time to quibble with them. All of Fleetcom is on antimat drive, bound for the Andrion System. But it’s doubtful we’ll ever see them.”

He paused, and looked up. “Our mission is to recon Andrion 3, discover and identify all enemy units and their capabilities in the Andrion System, and report back. We are also going to penetrate their starport-if we can-and exploit it. In practical terms-since we’re dealing with the Omnis-this means we will be engaging in combat all enemy units we discover. Not to mention those that discover us first. This is the only way to learn about their capabilities. And you can bet your next watch that they’re not going to hide from us this time. Especially after we antimat their base.”

The Second appeared proud, head up, supremely confident. “For those of you who do not yet understand, I’ll make it clear. Our mission is to die, for the Legion. And we’re going to accomplish this mission, in the tradition of the Black 12th, in exemplary fashion. I am proud to be serving with every one of you. The CAT team leaders will now brief their units.”

With the briefings over, we filed out of the room, numb and dizzy. I found myself next to Warhound, in the corridor.

“You know,” Warhound reflected, “I just realized. Cubes didn’t say if we were at war with the System or not.”

“He probably didn’t think it was important.”

“He didn’t think a galactic war was important?”

“Right. What’s important is that we’re at war with the O’s, again. The rest is all nonsense. It’s just trivia.”

“Trivia. A galactic war.”

“Right. Trivia. What’s important is whether or not humanity survives. That’s what’s at stake with the O’s. If we survive the O’s, we can resume our silly little squabbles with the Systies.”

“Yeah? Well, Cubes didn’t sound too confident we were going to survive.”

“Maybe that’s why he wasn’t worried about a galactic war with the Systies. Let’s hit the lounge.”

###

I tapped at Priestess’s door. It slid open. She was lovely, innocent big brown eyes and a small, vulnerable mouth and fresh, gleaming silky black hair. She wore loose camfax fatigues, a souvenir from Planet Hell.

“Thinker here.”

“Hello, Thinker.” She smiled, faintly. “You’re always so formal. Take five, Trooper.”

“Tenners, Priestess. Actually, I was hoping for a little medical care.” I closed the door behind me and unfolded a chair from the bulkhead. She sat opposite me on the bunk. The cube was so small we almost touched.

“How are your hands? Can I do anything?”

“It’s not my hands. It’s my heart. I’m lovesick. It’s serious…maybe critical.”

“A common ailment, Trooper. I think we can fix you up.”

“What is that weird smell?”

Another faint smile. “I’m cooking some Korkush flanpies. For you and me.” She took my hands, and looked into my eyes. “We can pretend we’re back in Korkush.”

“But I’ve never been on Korkush.” Korkush was Priestess’s home planet, a Legion world.

“Yes…I know. But we can pretend. It’s a beautiful place. It’s so peaceful. If you get up early, you can see the mist rolling in from the forests. There’s no pollution at all. I used to get up before sunrise, and go out into the fields and look up at the stars, clear and cold and lovely…billions of stars, glittering in the silence. Sometimes there would be a meteor shower. My skin would crawl, it was so beautiful.”

Strange, I thought, how she always tries to make a home. Even in her little cube on the Spawn, she had put a miniature Legion cross on one wall, and a solid of her bioparents in the corner. Light, emotionless music played in the background.

“You still listening to that stuff, Priestess?”

“I listen to your music, too, Thinker. The stars. It’s kind of lonely, and scary. But it grows on you. I see why you like it.”

“I brought you something,” I said.

“Oh? What’s that?”

I handed her a small package, the size of a minicard, wrapped in bright plastic. She opened it slowly and found a miniature certificate, topped with the Legion cross. She read the text. “Where did you get this?” she asked.

“I reserved it-for us. For you.” The certificate guaranteed that our names would be together, on the Legion Monument to the Dead. Side by side, forever, upon our deaths.

“You did this for me?”

“Yes. Don’t you like it? It means…”

“I know what it means. You’re saying we’ll be together forever.” She was blinking back the tears.

“Yes.”

“Hold me.” We embraced, cheek to cheek. “Oh, no!” She pulled away from me.

“What?”

“The flanpie! I’m overcooking it!” She lunged for the cooker and popped it open. A rich odor filled the cube. “Oh, no! It’s burnt! I’m such an earther!” She pulled out two steaming cookpacks.

“It looks all right to me,” I ventured.

“No, no. It has to be just right. Oh, this is awful!” She dabbed at her eyes with one hand and peeled back the foil with the other. “I’m sorry, Thinker. I wanted this to be perfect.”