Legion Of The Damned - 06 - For Those Who Fell Read Online Free PDF

stubby wing, and enough rockets and bombs to put the hurt on an entire battalion of dooth-mounted indigs.
    Not that there was any likelihood of that. It was the ODD’s hope that the fly-forms would cause any snipers whomight be hanging around to dig in deep—if only for the period of time that the admiral was out wandering around.
    Chien-Chu, who was oblivious to the efforts on his behalf, continued along the top of the thick outer wall. His sensors took in the white maze that was Naa Town, the lacy fingers of smoke that drifted up to merge with the lead gray sky, and the hills that lay beyond. But his thoughts were focused on the past rather than the present.
    A different war had been under way during his last trip to Algeron, a war in which the Ramanthians had been allies and the Hudathans had been enemies. A desperate battle had been fought on and around the planet, and, if it hadn’t been for the efforts of the Say’lynt, as well as thousands of legionnaires and the Naa who fought alongside them, the Confederacy would have been destroyed. Yet, even as that war was won, another had been brewing. It never seemed to end.
    An internal alarm went off, a message flashed in one corner of his electronic “vision,” and Chien-Chu turned to retrace his steps. The meeting was about to begin.
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    The top portion of the fort, the part that could be seen above ground, represented only 20 percent of the total structure. The rest, including vast storage rooms, living quarters, mess halls, classrooms, maintenance bays, and a first-class hospital, were all underground.
    Work was already under way to construct an extension of the fort to house the Senate, but that effort was far from complete, and the steadily growing contingent of government personnel was being crammed into every conceivable corner of the existing structure. Officers were being forced out of their quarters to make room for Senators, one section of the mess hall had been roped off for civilian use, and staff people were living in what had been barracks.
    It made for a chaotic environment, and as Booly made his way through a crowded passageway, he found himselfrubbing shoulders with sharp-looking legionnaires, skeletal spider forms, and harried civilians, many of whom appeared to be disoriented, confused, or lost.
    Booly handed out directions, returned dozens of salutes, and finally made his way into the base theater. It boasted five hundred seats, a steeply slanting floor, and a raised stage. Above the platform, in letters six feet tall, were the words, “Legio patria nostra,” The Legion Is Our Country. A reminder that the sentients who made up the Legion were loyal to each other first—and whatever political structure they might serve second. Yet, in spite of that, the increasingly diverse organization had come to be the one force that people everywhere could count on.
    Booly’s shoes made a clacking sound as he walked down the right aisle toward the stage. The theater wasn’t especially fancy, but it was large enough to seat the Senate and associated staff, which would have to do. Some of the politicians had arrived, but most remained in transit, which meant that the first full session wouldn’t begin for three standard days yet. In the meantime President Nankool hoped to make some progress where overall strategy was concerned and had convened a meeting of what he referred to as his “brain trust,” a high-powered group that included Booly, senior military officers, and a number of key civilian advisors like Sergi Chien-Chu, Charles Vanderveen, and Margaret Rutherford Xanith.
    Given the relatively small number of participants, the decision had been made to meet up on the stage. Booly climbed a short flight of stairs and saw that a number of smaller tables had been combined to make a larger one—which had been covered with a light-duty duralon field tarp. The random blotches of brown-and-tan camouflage added a