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  This book and parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise—without prior written permission of the publisher, except as provided by the United States of America copyright law.

  Ridan and its logo are copyrighted and trademarked by Ridan Publishing. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual persons, organizations, and/or events is purely coincidental.

  A Ridan Publication

  www.ridanpublishing.com

  www.soldierofthelegion.com

  Copyright © 2009 by Marshall S. Thomas

  Cover Art by Michael J. Sullivan

  Starcharts by Hatton Slayden

  Editing by Carol Woods

  Layout Design by Michael J. Sullivan

  ISBN: 978-0-9796211-9-2

  PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES

  First Printing: January 2010

  Dedicated to:

  Quanah Parker

  Warrior, Visionary, Peacemaker.

  War Chief of the Quahadi Comanche

  Chief of the Comanche Nation

  and American.

  He fought for his people, in war and peace, in victory and defeat. Born circa 1850, died February 23, 1911.

  Books in the Soldier of the Legion Series

  Soldier of the Legion

  The Black March

  Slave of the Legion

  Secret of the Legion

  Cross of the Legion

  Curse of the Legion*

  Forthcoming*

  Praise for Marshall's Soldier of the Legion Series

  "SOLDIER OF THE LEGION is a deep, rich story that captures the heart of Sci-fi while bringing the elements of suspense, mystery, horror, and romance together and blending them into a perfect story that everyone will enjoy." — Nancy L. Mehl, Author

  "From first page to last, the action stopped just long enough to let me catch my breath." — Laurel Johnson

  ""A perilous, exciting space saga, Soldier Of The Legion is enthusiastically recommended reading for fans of the science fiction action/adventure genre." — Midwest Book Review

  Table of Contents

  PART I—SECRET LOVERS

  Prologue: A Dragon from the Stars

  Chapter 1: The Goddess from Hell

  Chapter 2: Trooper Zero

  PART II—THE MUSIC OF THE STARS

  Chapter 3: Angels of the Lord

  Chapter 4: Tracks in the Dust of Time

  Chapter 5: Deadman's Dogs

  Chapter 6: God's Work

  PART III—CHILDREN OF THE DUST

  Chapter 7: Odura

  Chapter 8: The Portals of Doom

  Chapter 9: Father Time

  Chapter 10: On the Cross

  PART IV—AMONG THE DEAD

  Chapter 11: Millie the Mole

  Chapter 12: Superboy

  Chapter 13: Production

  Chapter 14: Raped and Forsaken

  Chapter 15: The Girl from the Past

  PART V—MAD GODS

  Chapter 16: Addicted

  Chapter 17: Red Snow

  Chapter 18: Sleepwalking

  Chapter 19: Pherdos

  Chapter 20: The Death of Tyrants

  Chapter 21: Uniden Troopers

  PART VI—MEN WITHOUT MINDS

  Chapter 22: Reinforcements for the Dead

  Chapter 23: Deneb's Seed

  Chapter 24: Price of Admission

  Chapter 25: Inside

  Chapter 26: Pipe Rats Rule

  Chapter 27: Showtime

  Chapter 28: Fresh Corpses

  Chapter 29: False God

  Chapter 30: Death my Destination

  Crista Cluster, 1,400 light years from Sol

  When the first Outworlder refugees approached the Outvac fleeing System oppression, the Crista Cluster beckoned them onwards with a view that appeared to form a starry cross in the vac. ConFree's ancestors settled those worlds as a free people and vowed in a Constitution written in blood to uphold liberty, justice and freedom, no matter what the cost, and to remain eternally vigilant against all forms of tyranny and slavery. The ConFree Legion was formed to accomplish those objectives.

  Prolgoue

  A Dragon from the Stars

  Tara gasped in horror behind the armored plex of Augusta Starport's command center, stunned at the scene outside. The night sky was burning like the face of a sun, an awful rippling luminous dome of fire, almost as if a star was colliding with the planet. An impossible flaming sky writhed, flashed and rippled overhead. Terrifying bolts of lightning ripped and crashed through the flames, leaving long jagged tracks burnt onto her retina. She thought it the most thrilling sight she had seen in her short, immortal life. It was the end of the world—Armageddon, for us all.

  Augusta 6, she thought. Is this where I'm going to die? A hot electric vibration ran through the cenite walls, coursed up the soles of her boots and into her A-suit. And suddenly she saw them, right in the middle of it all, falling almost straight down from the sky like meteors, blazing white-hot sparks, leaving glittering phosphorescent red wakes, burning their way slowly, almost leisurely, down through that hellish sky. It was the O's.

  A thrill of terror shot through her veins. It was quite a sight, but she had no time to appreciate it. A blinding white hot flash lit up the plex and the polarization snapped to full. A titanic crash rippled through the port. The walls and deck shook.

  "Antimat! They're landing—right here!" The voice sounded in her ears. She scrambled away from the plex reflexively, dislodging a blizzard of plastic instruction manuals. A single phospho streak still visible through the darkened plex drifted down as she watched in awe. Then it hit, another awful white-hot burst and the crack of doom, rattling the base like a great bell. The internal lights abruptly popped off, leaving only the terrible glare from the plex, the reflection revealing Tara and her two companions in sinister black armor and ruby red faceplates, E's at their chestplates, crashing through an abandoned post, in a hell of a hurry.

  "Get to E-levels! What did I tell you? What did I tell you?" Elektra Four exclaimed.

  Tara hurtled through a doorway with Elektra Four and Elektra Six, plunging into a steep internal stairway, rocketing down the handholds, avoiding the steps. "Alpha, Port, sitrep!" she gasped. "Nova, Nova, all units abandon position, we're over-run!" She collided with Elektra Four and they went down in a screech of armor.

  Elektra Six seized Tara from behind and yanked her upright. They were at D-levels but the installation was in darkness and completely deserted. The floodlights activated on their A-suits, momentarily dazzling their eyes, cutting the abandoned hall into slices of blazing light and inky shadows.

  "Where the hell…"

  "Scut, they've launched!" Another terrifying crash shook the port.

  "GALACTIC NOVA! THIS IS AUGUSTA 6! REPEAT, WE ARE UNDER HEAVY ATTACK BY OMNI FORCES! AUGUSTA STARPORT IS NOW UNDER SIEGE! OMNI FORCES HAVE LANDED WITHIN OUR PERIMETER. WE ARE ABANDONING OUR POSITIONS AND REQUEST NOVA EVAC! REPEAT, GALACTIC NOVA…" The autonova was still going out, all of ConFree would hear it, the Legion would launch instantly, but Tara knew it would do them no good. By the time anyone got here they'd be long dead or, worse yet, captives of the O's.

  "Come on!" Elektra Six grabbed her arm and they ran down a darkened corridor, stumbling over piles of loose equipment. Tara was in command, but she was not about to argue with Six—let him do his male thing. She was not feeling particularly decisive at that moment.

  "Alpha, Port, sitrep!" she demanded again. Her faceplate glowed with data, soft green scree
ns full of info, but Alpha was nowhere to be found.

  They skidded to a stop by a massive blast door, firmly shut, glowing a faint pink.

  "Oh no!"

  "Damn it!"

  "Open it!" Tara demanded.

  "The damned thing is too hot! It shouldn't be that hot! Something's wrong! The readout's gone—gone!"

  "Open it! Use the manual controls! It's our only chance!" Icy sweat trickled down the pale brown skin of Tara's brow. Her heart pounded wildly.

  They cranked the emergency override and as the edges cracked open, the fires of hell blasted them, a volcanic wind spitting glowing globules of molten cenite to ricochet off the walls. They forced the door closed hastily.

  "It's the shuttle—cooked!"

  "Man, they've had it!"

  "So have we!"

  "Alpha, Port, Nova, Nova, Nova, what's your status, over?"

  "ATTENTION! Gate Three has been breached! Prep to repel boarders or abandon the port! ATTENTION! Omni intruders have entered Augusta Port through Gate Three! O's in the port! O's in the port!"

  "What do we do?" Four gasped.

  "We've got to get out!" Tara replied. "Maybe we can make it to the tracking station!"

  "Don't be stupid!" Six snapped. "They'll take that, too!"

  "Alpha, Alpha, Port, respond! Nova, Nova, respond!" But there was no response to Four's desperate appeal.

  "Move it!" Tara ordered. "Let's go!" They plunged through another doorway and along a darkened corridor. Red E-lights flickered erratically along the ceiling but were not fully on. Suddenly the psybloc on their helmets activated, casting an eerie incandescent glow.

  "Oh no!"

  "Attention!" Tara's Persist warned. "Omnis approaching! Two O's in G corridor, closing fast! Recommend immediate retreat!"

  "…get the hell outta here!" Four clawed at Tara's A-suit to get past her. Tara slammed an arm around his neck and they stumbled into a tangle of armor.

  "G corridor—that's us!" Six added, raising his E, pulling Four away from Tara.

  "Hold it!" Tara hissed. "Deceptors, psybloc grenades, canisters and xmax! Then we run—"

  "O's approaching!" the Persist added. "Recommend…"

  "Deadman!" The three troopers shouldered their E's, blocking the passageway. Tara's blood pumped wildly. She tasted adrenalin on her tongue. Her limbs began to shake, but she struggled to keep the E pointed down corridor. The O's were coming to snuff them out as if they had never even existed. She prayed to the Legion for deliverance. Her companions were at her side, armor to armor, and they were not running any more. They stood like rocks in the path of the O's, their psybloc burning brightly. Tara almost felt like crying, for it all to end this way, but she knew, on another level, that it was good. Cintana Tamaling would go out in a flash, a burst of starmass, fighting for the Legion, for humanity, and she would be remembered forever.

  Down corridor, an evil violet glow was crackling. Tara had seen an O force field before. A dragon from the stars, she thought, come to burn us to cinders with its awful, unholy breath. But we aren't going out without a fight. Now—let the Gods decide!

  "Fire," Tara ordered. "Deceptors." Triple explosions burst down corridor and three blazing stars lit up like novas, dazzling their eyes. The readouts on their faceplates all went blank.

  "Psybloc grenades!" Another ragged volley, another three glittering stars. Down corridor glowed like a volcano.

  "Canisters!" Tara's E shrieked and bucked like a wounded beast as she held down the trigger convulsively. A deadly hail of supersonic darts buzzed like a swarm of killer bees as the three troopers let loose at once. It set a chill to Tara's flesh. Eat that, O's!

  "Xma—" she began. The corridor exploded as a massive fist of evil gas burst into a raging torrent of fire, filling the corridor, an incandescent, irresistible, violent river of blinding flame, sweeping her off her feet and along the deck like a piece of loose debris, the E forgotten, molten lava eating at her faceplate, her Persist shouting warnings, and Tara knew it was the breath of the stars, and they were cooked.

  "Armor is reaching critical tolerances! Failure approaching! Recommend immediate retreat!" Tara scrambled to her feet, shaking and helpless, lost in the starmass. In despair, she ran and suddenly the starmass faded and she was staggering along a corridor lit only by her own white-hot armor and a trickle of blazing starmass licking along the deck. She crashed into a wall and stumbled—her A-suit was glowing red-hot, her armor generating so much smoke and heat that the clouds rapidly filled the corridor. Her tacmod was all trash, completely unreadable.

  Movement! She snatched at her E in a blind panic. It was still there, secured to her chestplate by the autorecovery mechanism. She snapped the stock to her shoulder and Elektra Four staggered out of the starmass just as Tara's finger was tightening on the trigger. His armor was gleaming like liquid gold—they build 'em tough in the Legion!

  "Out," he gasped. "The loading dock—one level down!"

  "Where's Six?"

  "Attention! O's pursuing! Recommend…" Four ripped open a massive cenite blast door, seemingly by brute force. As they dove into it, Six materialized behind them, a human smoke grenade, leaping into the doorway.

  "Scut! They're right back there!"

  "Out!" They ran through a cavernous storage facility piled high with dropboxes, lit only by flickering red E-lights on the ceiling and the reflections of their own white-hot armor. Tara snatched up a full combat fieldpak, snapped open a weapons locker, and seized a Manlink.

  "No time!" Six danced past her.

  "Grab what you can!" Tara shouted. "Medkits, canteens, fieldpaks!"

  "Alert! O approaching! Recommend immediate retreat!"

  "Deto!"

  They sprinted down a ramp to a lower level and powered open the massive loading doors and a scene from Hell greeted them. A junkyard of aircars and airsleds burnt brightly under an evil sky. They burst out of the port with E's up and scanning.

  "Now what?"

  "Just get the hell away from here—split up! Head for the—"

  "I've got a better idea. Let's stick together!"

  "Our chances are better…" the sky glowed with antimat debris, glittering, flickering, laced with lovely lightning tracks, and the thunder of the Gods overwhelmed them. Tara knew the chances were excellent the O's would spot them soon and swat them like bugs.

  They ran like rats, away from the port. A hot radioactive rain fell all around them.

  "Alpha, Port, scut, we're on foot, the port is taken, don't land, Nova, Nova, respond, respond!"

  "Port, Alpha, stand by." The transmission was shot through with deceptor static. Stand by! Tara's heart leaped. Alpha was out there! Elektra Four let out a whoop.

  And there she was—a lovely black aircar, an evil, armored Legion bat, sleek and deadly, a swift cenite hound from Hell riding flaming clouds, darting rapidly down to the deck, closing on them. The Legion, coming after its own. Salvation! Tara's heart almost burst with joy, it was so wonderful.

  The aircar exploded abruptly, a sudden crack, a dazzling white hot core and a sky full of phospho tracers, burning debris ricocheting all around them, smoking wreckage bouncing off the ground and twisting wildly through the air.

  "Oh no—Alpha!"

  "Alert! O's exiting port! Recommend immediate retreat!"

  "What the hell do we do? Where do we go?"

  "Run!" Tara replied. "Run like hell!"

  And they ran, in despair, under that awful sky.

  Chapter 1

  The Goddess from Hell

  I awoke slowly from a lovely dream, letting my mind drift freely back into reality. It was still dark. Stars burned softly overhead, a magnificent sky full of stars, and the scent of incense hung in the still night air. Moontouch had flung one slim arm around my neck, and Priestess had her head on my chest and an arm draped lazily over my waist. They were both still asleep, breathing deeply. We were lying in a tangle of silken blankets and pillows, on a terrace high atop Stonehall's royal palace, on
Andrion 2.

  As I lay there I wondered how any human could be as fortunate as I. It was a delightfully cool night, and we were naked under the blankets. Moontouch's enchanting face was mils from mine. Her long silky black hair drifted over the pillows, and one slim leg was hooked over mine. She was the most exotic, captivating creature I had ever met. She was the Delegate from the Past, the Voice of the Dead, and she had given me a lovely son who was the hope of the future for Southmark and the Taka, for the whole world of Andrion 2. She was a sorceress and a princess and my love and my future. And on my other side Priestess—Beta Nine—was wrapped around me in a warm embrace, her lips against my chest, her delicate features almost angelic in slumber—a child's face, untouched by cosmetics, pale smooth skin and a gleaming mop of silky black hair cut off below the ears. She was as slim and supple as a biogen love doll, and she was my eternal love. I had told her I would kill myself if she left me, and she knew I meant every word, and she had stayed.

  Happiness. It was mine at last, after all the suffering, after all the hate and strife, after all the killings and the sacrifices, and all our dead, after my own insane, agonizing odyssey carried me from nowhere, from not even knowing who I was, to the far side of the galaxy, into the future, into alternate worlds, and then into the past. I had fought my way back to Moontouch twice, past impossible obstacles, and lost her again each time. I had snatched my lovely Priestess from the very jaws of death; I had ripped her right out of the past and vowed to never leave her again. And then the System had disintegrated and the Lost Command had reintegrated with the Legion, and I had returned a third time to Andrion, in triumph, to Moontouch and Stormdawn, my son, with Priestess at my side.

  We had all looked the Angel of Death in the face a score of times, and survived. Didn't we deserve a little peace and quiet?

  A few candles softly glimmered in the dark. It was a sweet, cool, perfect night. Priestess moved slightly in my arms, and Moontouch breathed peacefully in my ear. I had thought it would be impossible, for the two of them to get along. It didn't bother me, but I knew it bothered Priestess, at first, to have to share me with Moontouch. But Moontouch didn't mind, and I guess that was what had made it work. Moontouch had gone out of her way to win Priestess over. Now they were both as content as cats, and the three of us slept together and made love together, and sometimes I would catch Priestess and Moontouch holding hands like schoolchildren. I sure didn't mind. Who was I to be jealous? Anything that brought them closer together was fine with me.