Legion Of The Damned - 01 - Legion of the Damned (32 page)

“Then, with nothing left in orbit, you went to the ground. Frio II was only lightly populated, so there was no need to use overlapping swathe
s of destruction as you did on Worber’s World, so you attacked individual towns and cities instead. These proved more difficult than anticipated, however, due to the harsh surface conditions and the fact that the habitats were largely underground.”

If Norwood expected some sign of sorrow, some sign of remorse, she was sadly disappointed.

“A military installation still exists.”

Norwood brightened a little. “Really? That’s wonderful. I hope they kick your oversized butts.”

Poseen-Ka seemed oblivious to the insult and made a gesture she didn’t understand. “There is little possibility of that. We control the system, the space around the planet, and for all practical purposes the planet itself.”

Norwood’s hands started to shake. She shoved them into her pockets. “Well, goody for you. So why the visit?”

Poseen-Ka stood. He towered over her, but there was something in his eyes, something she couldn’t quite put a finger on. Understanding? Compassion? Fear? Whatever it was made him less intimidating.

“I need your help.”

Norwood looked up at the alien trying to see if he was serious. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“No, I am absolutely serious.”

“Never.”

“You helped with the phytoplankton.”

“That was different.”

“As is this.”

Norwood searched Poseen-Ka’s face, looked for some sign of what the alien was thinking, and found nothing. “What would you have me do?”

“Convince some humans to surrender.”

“So you can murder them? Never!”

“I will allow them to live.”

“So you say.”

“I give you my word.”

“Screw your word. Have Baldwin do it. That’s what you pay him for.”

“I don’t trust Baldwin.”

The words were so honest, and so unexpected, that it took a moment to understand and absorb them. Poseen-Ka was truly asking her for a favor, taking her into his confidence, offering some sort of friendship. But why? Was it real? Or a trick? She looked up into his eyes. “Why?”

“Because he is a traitor and cares only for himself.”

Norwood sensed he was telling the truth. She also sensed that there was more truth to tell. “And?”

“And he sides against me.”

“In what way?”

The alien made a motion with his hands. “He, like many of my superiors, feels that I should bypass planets like the one below and strike at the heart of the human empire.”

Norwood felt a sense of excitement, as if she was close to learning something very important, and worked to keep her face impassive. “And you?”

“I think that your superiors could be preparing a trap for us, and even if they aren’t, could find a way to take advantage of the unsecured systems that we left behind.”

Norwood nodded. “So you want to take more time, secure planets like Frio II, and attack the inner planets after that.”

“Exactly.”

Norwood frowned. “I still don’t understand. How would I help? And why should I do so?”

The alien was silent for a moment as if choosing his words with care. “I need evidence that your superiors are preparing a trap for us. Evidence I can use to defend my strategy. But your soldiers have orders to destroy such information before they die.”

“Really?” Norwood asked sarcastically. “How rude. And you expect me to help? Well, forget it. That would be treasonous.”

“Would it?” Poseen-Ka asked. “Would it be treasonous to save human lives? Especially in light of the fact that they have already been sacrificed? Left behind to delay us, or worse yet, because no one cares? Surely you have wondered. Where is your navy? Why do they run before us? When will they fight? All I ask is a chance to examine some records. I am willing to give hundreds of lives in return.”

Norwood struggled to deal with her emotions. She
had
asked herself those questions, not once, but hundreds of times. It was clear that something was wrong, terribly wrong, but what? Why had the navy withdrawn? Was it part of a plan, or just massive incompetence on an Imperial scale? She wanted to believe the first possibility, but feared the second, and found herself in a terrible position.

Assuming the defenders were willing to surrender and provided her with the information that Poseen-Ka wanted, what then?

If there was a trap, or the likelihood of one, Poseen-Ka would continue his present strategy of destroying the human empire one system at a time. If there was no trap, and Poseen-Ka lost his command, or was forced to adopt a more aggressive strategy, the Hudathans would strike at the heart of the empire, an attack that would almost surely cost millions, if not billions, of lives.

Measured in terms of casualties, it seemed as if Poseen-Ka’s strategy of steady attrition would be better for the human race, allowing as it did for some sort of counterattack.

So, by helping Poseen-Ka, she might help the war effort. But what if she was wrong? What if her decision cost billions of innocent lives?

The easy answer was no, because that was the answer that her training had prepared her to give, and she was fundamentally opposed to helping the Hudathans in any way. But what of the lives she could save?

Sweat covered Norwood’s forehead as she replied.

“I’ll help under the following conditions: that you will accept the surrender of every human on the planet, that you will feed and house them appropriately, and that you will forswear all use of torture.”

The Hudathan made a motion with his right hand. “Done. It shall be as you say.”

Norwood shook her head. “No, I haven’t finished yet. I reserve the right to tell others about our conversation and why I agreed to help you.”

Poseen-Ka thought for a moment. “Humans, yes ... but Hudathans, no ... and that includes Baldwin.”

Norwood nodded. “Fair enough ... and one other thing.”

The Hudathan looked stem. “I warn you, human. I grow weary of your demands.”

Norwood shrugged. “Promise you won’t connect me to your machines. Sex is nice ... but the session after my visit with the phytoplankton damned near killed me. A sincere ‘thanks’ is reward enough.”

“It shall be as you say. Prepare for a trip to the surface. We depart one subperiod from now.”

The Hudathan left, the hatch hissed downwards, and Norwood was left to contemplate what she’d done.

 

The cabin was large by shipboard standards, befitting someone of Lance Commander Moder-Ta’s rank, and Baldwin felt his heart thump against his chest. Why had he been summoned? What did the Hudathan want? A hundred questions jostled each other looking for answers. He rose as the officer entered the compartment and sat in a fold-down chair.

Moder-Ta was big, but not as large as Poseen-Ka, and wore a large blue gem in his weapons harness. His eyes were like stones, black and unyielding. The skin along one side of his head was furrowed and ridged where a blaster bolt had come within a hairsbreadth of taking his life. His mouth, thin-lipped like a frog’s, formed a line across his face.

“You may sit.”

Baldwin sat.

“So,” Moder-Ta began expressionlessly, “you heard about the courier? About the Dwarf’s defeat?”

Baldwin frowned. “The Dwarf?”

“Spear Commander Ikor Niber-Ba.”

“Thank you. That is to say yes, I heard about his defeat.”

“And your opinion?”

A lump had formed in Baldwin’s throat. He forced it down. “Humans can be ingenious when cornered. Had Commander Niber-Ba struck quickly, and done so with overwhelming force, he would’ve won.”

Baldwin held his breath. He had taken the chance and said what he really thought. How would it be received?

There was a long silence while Moder-Ta looked through him to the bulkhead beyond. The answer, when it came, was all Baldwin could have hoped for.

“Yes, human. I agree with you, and more importantly, so does Grand Marshal Pem-Da. Tell me, what do you think of our strategy overall?”

Baldwin felt a sense of joy bubble up from deep within. It could be a trick, could be an attempt to set him up, but he didn’t think so. No, the message was clear. Moder-Ta thought that Poseen-Ka was in the process of committing the same error that Niber-Ba had, and wanted Baldwin to confirm that opinion. And, knowing that the Hudathan had Grand Marshal Pem-Da’s support, the human would be foolish to do otherwise. He spread his hands before him.

“I fear that the fleet could fall into the same trap that destroyed Spear Three. We should strike for the heart of the empire, and do it now, before they are ready to receive us.”

“Well said,” Moder-Ta hissed. “Well said indeed. Now, answer me this ... Would you be willing to testify to that? Even if it meant going against War Commander Poseen-Ka’s interest?”

A sense of caution rose to replace the excitement that Baldwin had previously felt. “Testify?”

“Yes. The loss of Spear Three necessitates an investigation. mThe war commander will be asked to explain and justify his actions.”

A variety of thoughts churned through Baldwin’s mind. This amounted to a court-martial. Of course! Moder-Ta opposed his superior, and more than that, wanted his position. Baldwin’s testimony, added to whatever else the chief of staff had up his sleeve, could bring Poseen-Ka to his knees. It made perfect sense. But was it in his, Baldwin’s, best interests? What if Poseen-Ka was exonerated? What then?

“Well?”

Moder-Ta wanted an answer.

Baldwin steeled himself.

“Yes, I would testify as to my opinion, even if that testimony ran counter to the war commander’s interests.”

“Excellent,” Moder-Ta hissed. “You won’t be sorry.”

 

Some bio bods had built a fire in a corner of what had been the admin offices. The resulting smoke had a tendency to gather near the ceiling before making its way through the makeshift chimney.

There were many schools of thought as to what burned best, but Major Ralph Hoskins favored the nice thick manuals provided by the idiots on Algeron, since they were extremely dry and made violet-colored flames.

He grabbed one, saw that the title had something to do with quarterly fitness reports, and threw it into the fire. Flames licked up and around it, turned the cover brown, and danced upwards. Hoskins removed his gloves and held his hands towards the heat. It was cold, barely above freezing, and had been for days. The bozos who had designed the base had relied on a civilian fusion plant for power and he was paying the price for their stupidity. The plant, like the city it served, had been destroyed during the first few hours of fighting. He heard movement behind him.

“Major Hoskins?”

The voice belonged to Sergeant Ayers.

“year?”

“The geeks sent an emissary with a white flag.”

A part of Hoskins’s mind wondered how the aliens knew what a white flag signified and another part didn’t give a shit. He was tired, very tired, and not in the mood for puzzles.

“So? Shoot the bastard and grab the flag. Doc’s running short on bandages.”

“This bastard is a woman, sir, a colonel, and she claims to be from Worber’s World.”

Hoskins turned his back to the fire. Ayers was almost unrecognizable under multiple layers of clothes. The winter-white outer shell wasn’t so white anymore. A red splotch marked the spot where she had taken a round through her left biceps.

“That’s impossible. Worber’s got waxed early on. There were no survivors.”

Ayers shrugged. Her clothing barely moved. “Yes, sir.”

Hoskins groaned. The situation was bad enough without stray colonels wandering around. “She got any geeks with her?”

“No, sir. Not close by anyhow.”

“I’m coming. Jeez. Can’t a guy take a break around here?”

Ayers shook her head sympathetically. “That’s the Legion for you, sir. If it ain’t one thing it’s another.”

Hoskins zipped his jacket to the neck, shoved his partially warmed hands into his pockets, and made for the emergency exit. The power lifts had gone belly-up along with everything else.

Hoskins opened the steel fire door, waited for an in-bound patrol to clatter past, and started upwards. The stairs were thick with half-frozen mud, trash, and empty shell casings, leftovers from the night the geek commandos had penetrated the perimeter and made their way inside. Something of a mistake since they had run right smack-dab into a pair of Trooper IIs.

He hadn’t slept for two rotations and had four flights of stairs to climb, so Hoskins was puffing by the time he reached the surface. Plumes of lung-warmed air jetted out to meld with colder stuff around him. He paused by the main doors, nodded to the cyborgs on duty, and received their salutes in reply.

“Going for a stroll, sir?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d slip out for a nice cold beer.”

The borgs laughed and opened the blastproof door. It made a screeching noise as it slid out of the way. Bitterly cold air and driving snowflakes bit at the officer’s face as he stepped outside.

The base had been dug into a low hill, one of the few things the engineers had done right, and commanded a 360-degree view of the fields that surrounded it. They were white with new-fallen snow. It hid the bodies that no one had the energy to bury and granted the base a beauty it didn’t deserve. The city of Loport appeared and disappeared through the snow, its blackened spires pointing accusingly towards the sky, its citizens buried under heat-fused concrete. The horror of it was so immense, so appalling, that Hoskins couldn’t get his mind around it.

Lieutenant Marvin Matatu materialized out of the snow. The hood, goggles, and scarf obscured everything but a narrow band of brown skin that ran from one cheek to the other.

“Major.”

“Lieutenant.”