Cross of the Legion by Marshall S. Thomas Read Free Book Online Page A

porcelain statuette. Priestess, like me, was covering her face with her arms, wary of all the armor.
    "How ya been, Thinker?" Valkyrie just lay there on the deck as the others got up. She sounded exhausted.
    "Can't complain," I replied, sitting up to straddle Valkyrie's armored waist. "How about you?" Valkyrie's squadies were unlinking—dropping their helmets, flinging chestplates onto the bunks, kicking u-belts full of equipment along the deck, shouting and chattering, carelessly bumping into each other, the armor making a terrific racket, the incident of the uninvited guests seemingly forgotten. Most of them were girls.
    "What the hell is the problem now? Don't you mammary types ever shut down?" A hard, aggressive male voice. Another A-suit approached, hauling an E, helmet off. It was a young male trooper with sweaty black hair, glittering, deep-set eyes, distinct chiselled features and a firm, thin mouth set in a determined jaw. It was Beta Eight—Dragon , the warrior's warrior. I couldn't stop the foolish grin that was forming.
    "Three!" He stopped dead, taking me in sitting on top of Valkyrie. "Well damn, you don't waste any time, do you? I'd advise taking off her A-suit before proceeding further."
    I got off Valkyrie and slammed my hand into Dragon's cenite palm. His face was sticky with sweat but he was looking good. Damn, it was good to see him again! I was so choked up I couldn't say a word.
    "I told you not to come here, Thinker. What happened?"
    "I'm stupid, all right? It's good to see you, Dragon."
    "Hi, Dragon." Priestess had detached herself from Scrapper and stood before Dragon primly, stifling a grin. Dragon held out an arm and pulled her to him carefully, looking down into her eyes, just like a father greeting a daughter.
    "Welcome to Recon, guys," Dragon said. "We heard you were coming. We can't promise to keep you alive, but we can promise we'll do our best. And if anything happens to you, our enemies are going to regret it. We can promise that."
    A banshee howl interrupted us. A short blond male with wild blue eyes and a pale, sweaty face was poised before Priestess, his gleaming black cenite arms outstretched, his mouth open in shock. He abruptly seized Priestess, snatching her right off her feet, and ran off with her into the gloom like some kind of demented, armored dwarf ogre, anxious to consume its catch in private.
    "Psycho, bring that back! Aw, he gives me more trouble…" Dragon said.
    "Priestess can handle him," I said. "Don't worry." Psycho had always had a crush on Priestess. His behavior was not surprising. It was obvious he had not changed at all. I looked down at the deck. Valkyrie was asleep.
    "I guess she wasn't as excited to see me as I thought," I said.
    "It was a rough mission," Dragon said. "We're all tired. You might want to wash that blood off." I looked down at my u-shirt. It was soaked in blood. So was Valkyrie's chestplate.
    "We had wounded, but no dead," Dragon explained. "Don't worry. If we can quiet the rest of these females down, maybe we can get some sleep. We'll talk later."
    ***
    "I'm in heaven," Psycho said with his mouth full, scooping up another slab of cherry jam for his biscuit. We were in the Spawn's Open Mess, lingering over our breakfast. The place was crowded, full of Recon troopers in camfax and Fleetcom vacheads in black. Five was gorging himself.
    "They feed us good," Dragon confirmed. "We're the top of the food chain. The Spawn is a good home." He glowered over his dox. He was the type of person you'd be afraid to approach unless you knew him already. Little blue tattoos covered his ears and neck, indecipherable runes from lost worlds. His knuckles and hands were decorated with the faces of the dead—some of them well-known to me. Dragon never talked about his past, but it was always with him.
    "You're gonna love it here, Thinker," Valkyrie said. "It's nuts. You'll fit in perfectly." She was absolutely lovely, totally relaxed and all cleaned up, fluffy blond