March of the Legion

'Scut! Slow down!' I triggered the catch and the cable sang through the mounts. I dropped, slowing gently, boots glancing off the walls. The shaft was dark and cold and full of thick oily cables. My A-suit whispered to me, and green readouts glowed on my faceplate.

'Negative life. Proceed.'

I hissed past Psycho, and he was a deadly camfax shadow, just another shadow, all the power of the Legion, coiled like a snake. We were nearing the entrance to the hanger. I slowed and stopped.

'All right, Psycho—go. Deadman!' I was breathing heavily, leaning off the wall, my E at the ready.

'Come on, Thinker, admit it—you love it, don't you?' Psycho giggled, and I could see him coming at me from above, an obscene black beast armored for war. My E was set on flame. Psycho flashed past me, dropping, his cable whistling eerily.

We had seen the hanger on the screen, cold and still, undamaged, fully lighted, two aircars in the repair bays. Not a sign of life. Then we tried the internal view of the Omni starport, but the screen was dead. Perhaps the starport was crushed flat, popped open by our antis, then torn apart by the lake of molten lava. I wondered how many O's had died in the disaster. It made me feel good, thinking about all those dead O's, knowing that we had contributed.

'I'm just above the elevator door,' Psycho reported.

'Coming,' I responded. I was there in fracs. I slid down a bit further. I could see the door activator. I eased my way down until it was between my legs. 'I'm at the activator.'

'Can you see the emergency lever?' Redhawk spoke from the aircar control center.

'I've got it.' I looked up at Psycho. 'You ready?'

'Mother's on barbecue,' he replied. 'Do it.'

I pulled down on the control and pushed away from the wall, still dangling from the line. The double doors to the elevator shaft slid open smoothly. Psycho went hurtling in with a sharp crack, his Manlink suddenly spitting raw flame.

I followed him, swinging in like a great alien ape, firing my E on flame. A brilliant, dazzling ball of flame exploded violently before us where our streams met, a dull boom, the world erupting, white-hot streaks shooting past us, hissing and spitting. Anyone waiting for us was going to have a very hot welcome. We landed in the center of the holocaust and dropped to our knees in the heart of our own hell, weapons at the ready, sheets of eerie blue and yellow and white-hot gas dancing all over my A-suit, Psycho right beside me. We kneeled there as the flames slowly died.

'Negative life,' Sweety assured me. The hanger was full of black smoke. Flames licked all over the floor.

Negative life. My armor glowed. My heart was thumping. 'Scut,' I observed.

'You love it, Thinker. You don't fool me.' Psycho was high, snapping his head around in his helmet, looking for something to cook with his Manlink.

###

The elevator hissed open, and Snow Leopard and Priestess dragged Redhawk in on a camfax poncho. Psycho and I were standing by with weapons balanced on our hips. It was a large, well-stocked aircar hanger. There were only two aircars left, still in the repair bays. The launching bays were all sealed and empty. Green lights glowed everywhere—the installation was intact and functioning, but completely deserted.

'Let me at 'em,' Redhawk said throatily. He was fighting off the pain. Priestess helped him to his feet.

'Which is the one you wanted?' Priestess asked.

'Bay Three—right over there. Get me in the cockpit.'

'Three, Five—' Beta One looked around the installation, his E in one hand. 'Cover all the exits—see the tacmap. It looks like this site connects directly with the starport. See that corridor? The O's could kick in the door in a frac. I want silence. Ten, what's the sit?'

'Let me get in the cockpit first, will you?' Priestess was helping him hobble up the service stairs to the aircar cabin.

'Do it!' Snow Leopard was uncharacteristically nervous.

'Ten sir! Deadman!' I wasn't worried. If the aircar could be fixed, Redhawk would do it. Psycho and I found our places. We were each covering two doorways. Snow Leopard craned his neck, inspecting the ceiling and the launching locks.

'Three, Five—if it's the O's, we go all out. Five, use tacstars. The rest of us go to xmax and laser.'

'Mother is pleased,' Psycho replied. Snow Leopard ignored him. Mother was Five's Manlink—the Mother of Destruction. She'd saved our asses more than once.

'These bastards shouldn't be here,' Snow Leopard said, kicking a door open into what looked like a mini office. 'I'll be in here looking for info.' He ripped a file drawer open and scattered the contents.

'Ohhh, that's good.' Redhawk was off his feet, in the pilot's seat, right where he belonged. 'Now let's see what's ailing this old gal.' It was a DefCorps aircar, an older model, but still a highly dangerous beast.

My blood stirred just looking at it. I couldn't help it; I had been bound for the Legion ever since my birth. It had just taken a little time for me to realize it. But all it took nowadays was an aircar, sitting in the repair bay. On Andrion 2, we had seen Legion fighters, booming over the burning ruins of the Systie base, flashing past and wheeling in the night sky; and they were so beautiful, I had almost cried. On Coldmark, the Spawn had dropped in the whole fighter force to rescue us and the System had met us, face to face; and we had smashed them to bits. No, I was with the Legion, for life or death, for good or evil, in sickness or in health, for better or for worse, no looking back. And every once in awhile I realized it. It was scary. I tore my eyes away from the aircar and clutched my E tighter. My fate was to die, under strange stars, for the Legion.

'Ten, report.' Snow Leopard did not like it here, I could tell.

'I can fix this girl, One. But I'm going to need some new internal power packs. I'm giving Priestess instructions on what I'll need right now.'

'Is it all here?'

'Sure, we'll find it.'

'So you can fix the aircar?'

'That's a big ten!' Salvation, for us all! Redhawk was a genius—how could we survive without him? We were going to get out of this madhouse!

'Alert! Movement! Life! Human! Target approaching, as marked!' Sweety's icy metal voice hissed in my ears, the tacmap glowing red, pinpointing the target, a flashing red dot approaching us in the corridor to the starport. We ran to cover the door. It was a personnel door, closed and locked. Snow Leopard and Psycho and I skidded to a stop, bracketing the door, ready to fire. My E was at my shoulder.

'Three, E on v-max auto,' Snow Leopard ordered. 'Fire when the target appears. Five, stand by on laser. Fire only if the target's in armor. This one's human. I want it alive.' Priestess dropped to the deck from the aircar, running to us, shouldering her E. 'Nine, cover the other entrances. If anything else shows up, be prepared to go to energy systems.'

Priestess whirled around to cover the other doors.

I could taste the fear. E on v-max auto, sights centered on the door. I watched the target on the tacmap. As it came closer, Sweety got a faint energy image.

'Target not in armor,' she informed me. 'Confirm it's human. No weapons.'

'Thinker, v-min auto,' Snow Leopard hissed. I made the adjustment.

'This is crap!' Psycho objected. 'I don't believe this!'

'Stick to your orders!' Snow Leopard snapped.

'Target approaching door!'

I was ready, ready, ready, ready. The locks snapping open, he's got access, the door hissing open, a frozen instant of time, a male, pale face, my autovac cracking wildly, white-hot flashes erupting all over his body, the crack of doom echoing around the hanger; and suddenly he was down.

'Cease fire!' I ran up to the open door.

He lay sprawled in the corridor, litesuit smoking. His eyes were open, his mouth was open. The barrel of my E was right at his face. Then Snow Leopard was there, and Psycho leaped over the body and took up a position in the corridor with his Manlink.

I touched the Systie's throat with my armored fingers. 'He's not breathing!'