Legion of the Damned

by William C. Dietz

  Grand Marshal Nimu Wurla-Ka (ret.)

  Instructor, Hudathan War College

  Standard year 1952

  With the Hudathan fleet, off the Planet Frio II, the Human Empire

  The officers’ wardroom had been reconfigured to match traditions and regulations established thousands of years before. The court, comprised of Grand Marshal Pem-Da, War Commander Dal-Ba, and Sector Marshal Isam-Ka, sat behind a ceremonially draped table, with their backs to the steel bulkhead. Translators hung ’round their necks and looked starkly utilitarian compared to the jewel-encrusted splendor of the ceremonial weapons harnesses that they wore.

  Witnesses for the court of inquiry, War Commander Niman Poseen-Ka’s own chief of staff, Lance Commander Moder-Ta, Spear Commanders Two and Five, and the alien known as Baldwin, sat along the left wall, while those testifying for Poseen-Ka, including Spear Commanders One and Four, plus the geeks called Norwood and Hoskins, sat along the right.

  It was, Grand Marshal Pem-Da reflected, highly unusual to have so many aliens involved, and a bit disturbing as well. Though not specifically prohibited by Hudathan regulations, the inclusion of aliens seemed in poor taste.

  Still, the excessive use of geek testimony could serve to weaken Poseen-Ka’s case and strengthen Moder-Ta’s. Something Pem-Da would welcome, since he favored a more aggressive strategy and wanted Moder-Ta to win. The truth was that Poseen-Ka had received his current command over Pem-Da’s vehement objections, an error that could now be corrected.

  Yes, Pem-Da decided, the situation was well under control and should proceed in predictable fashion. That being the case, why was he so frightened? Especially since Poseen-Ka was the one that stood accused.

  Yet, who could argue with observable fact? The more he achieved, the more he had to lose and the more afraid he became. It was as natural as one, two, three.

  Viewed in that manner, he had more to lose than Poseen-Ka did, even though the likelihood of actually doing so was less.

  Pem-Da watched War Commander Niman Poseen-Ka walk in, take the seat at the center of the room, and stare off into the distance.

  It was no accident that the accused had been assigned the only chair not backed by a bulkhead. The location was part of the psychology, part of the ritual, and symbolized Poseen-Ka’s complete vulnerability.

  Pem-Da could imagine how the other officer felt. Cold, vulnerable, and a bit sick to his stomach, as if an animal had crawled into his belly and was eating its way out.

  It was sad that such a promising officer should have to be destroyed, sacrificed to the needs of the Hudathan race, but that was the way of war. The fact was that Poseen-Ka’s strategy was wrong, and worse than wrong, potentially disastrous. By advancing so slowly and allowing the humans time to prepare, he had paved the way towards defeat. The destruction of Spear Three testified to that. Rather than bypass an unimportant target and hurl his forces towards the center of the geek empire, Poseen-Ka had squandered one fifth of his command on a third-rate objective.

  Yes, Pem-Da decided, the time had come to appoint a new leader. Moder-Ta perhaps, or another of the young bucks that looked to him for counsel and deserved a bump.

  “Your attention, please.”

  War Commander Dal-Ba was slightly overweight, and more than a bit cranky, since he’d been recalled from a well-deserved leave to preside over the inquiry. Though not exactly in Pem-Da’s pocket, he owed the grand marshal a favor or two and would listen to Moder-Ta’s arguments. He scanned the compartment.

  “By the authority of the ruling triad, Section 3458 of military regulations, and the authority vested in me, this court of inquiry is now in session. Lance Commander Moder-Ta will read the charges.”

  With the exception of Poseen-Ka’s, which stayed straight ahead, all eyes in the room went to Moder-Ta. He stood, knowing that his career was at stake, and glorying in the risk. Victory meant favor from Pem-Da and the possibility of promotion; failure meant death.

  Not figuratively, as in falling from favor, but literally, as in catching a bullet right between the eyes. Because should Poseen-Ka win the ensuing confrontation, he would automatically give Moder-Ta the most dangerous assignments available. Such was Hudathan tradition, and a good one at that, acting as it did to ensure a certain amount of loyalty.

  Still, there were always those who were willing to risk everything on the chance that they could trim years, or even decades, off the long, slow journey to the top, and Moder-Ta was one of these.

  Moder-Ta cleared his throat, looked at the printout held in his right hand, and spoke.

  “Acting on information that Spear Three, of the fleet presently under War Commander Poseen-Ka’s command, was committed to action and subsequently destroyed, the court calls upon said officer to answer such questions as seem pertinent, and to justify his actions. Failure to answer these questions, or to cooperate with the court, is punishable by imprisonment or death. Does everyone understand?”

  No one replied, so Moder-Ta resumed.

  “At the point when the officers of the court are satisfied that the relevant facts have been accumulated, evaluated, and understood, they will adjourn and come to a decision. Their decision shall be binding, final, and implemented within a single cycle. Does everyone understand?”

  The humans glanced at each other but remained silent, so Moder-Ta took his seat.

  Dal-Ba signaled approval with his left hand.

  “Good. Then let’s get on with it. Using information provided by Spear Three’s lone survivor, data gathered by robo-spies, and the reports submitted by Spear Commander Niber-Ba prior to his death, the intelligence section was able to reconstruct a model of the conflict. However, due to the fact that the model is based on very little information, and a great deal of supposition, the accuracy of what we’re about to see is open to question.”

  Pem-Da frowned, willed Dal-Ba to shut-the-hell-up, and traded glances with Moder-Ta.

  “Still,” Dal-Ba continued stolidly, “the battle sim will serve to set the stage, acquaint everyone with the basic outline of what took place, and lay groundwork for the testimony ahead.”

  Better, Pem-Da thought critically, better but not perfect.

  The lights started to fade.

  Hoskins was seated next to Norwood. He looked her way and she shrugged in reply.

  Darkness descended on the room. Seconds passed. A pinpoint of light appeared, grew larger, and became a miniature sun. The orb started to move, slowly but perceptibly, tracing an orbit across what Norwood estimated was the area just below the ceiling. There was no way to be sure, however, since the light radiated by the sun did nothing to illuminate the room, a fact that mystified Norwood and made the presentation even more effective.

  Stars appeared, popping into existence as if made by pinpricks through black paper, until they were everywhere, filling the space where the council sat, twinkling around Norwood’s head, and covering the ceiling and deck.

  Then, appearing from behind the sun and growing steadily larger, came a strangely shaped ... asteroid? Planet? Norwood wasn’t sure which. Whatever it was had man-made structures on its surface, structures that looked real, thanks to video taken by the Hudathan robo-spies, included in Niber-Ba’s reports.

  The object seemed to slow, grow larger, and hang suspended in the middle of what she knew to be the room. Norwood felt her perspective change to that of someone orbiting along with the planetoid, so she seemed to be stationary while everything else continued to move.

  Thanks to the god-like position she occupied, Norwood could see storage tanks, antenna farms, crawlers, robots, miners, techs, and cyborgs, all going about their business, oblivious to the tiny mechanisms that dogged their tracks.

  Then came the Hudathan ships, closing in to attack the planetoid’s surface, destroying everything in sight. Some of the pictures were computer simulations, but some were real, taken by the attack craft themselves and fed to their mother ships. So Norwood knew, as did every other human in the room, that thi
s was real.

  But there was opposition as well, for many of the fighters were destroyed, and many of the Hudathan troops were killed. And killed, and killed. Norwood was amazed that her fellow humans could inflict so much damage and that the Hudathans could take it.

  So it went, attack after attack, until remote-controlled ships were launched, and the Hudathan fleet was destroyed.

  There was distortion, of course, both in the amount of destruction inflicted on the humans and in the strength of their forces, but the outcome was the same. Once seen, the presentation left little doubt as to the severity of Spear Three’s defeat, or the relative insignificance of the planetoid in question.

  The impression was so strong, in fact, that Poseen-Ka felt a mantle of hopelessness settle over his shoulders as the lights came up, and wondered if he should simply plead incompetent and be done with it. Never had he seen a more disturbing sight than the destruction of so many good ships and the loss of so many Hudathan lives.

  But did mistakes made by one commander, and the ensuing destruction of a single spear, signal the failure of his entire strategy? Or was the battle what it appeared to be? A single defeat within a greater framework of success. Poseen-Ka felt his resolve harden and kept his eyes straight ahead.

  Baldwin, seated opposite his fellow humans and next to Moder-Ta, felt triumphant. The battle sim was more damning than anything he could have imagined. With what weak and ineffective weapons would Poseen-Ka defend himself? No, the rest of the inquiry would be little more than a joke, leading to an almost certain victory.

  He leaned back in his chair, allowed a smirk to steal across his face, and watched Norwood whisper something to the fool Hoskins. He resented the easy familiarity that existed between them, and more than that, the companionship they had and he didn’t. Later, after Moder-Ta took charge, they would be his. To do with as he pleased. The thought felt good. He hugged it close.

  “So,” Dal-Ba said gloomily, “the facts, to the extent that they will ever be known, have been placed before us. A battle was fought and subsequently lost. The question remains: Was the loss of Spear Three simply an unfortunate incident within the framework of an otherwise successful strategy? And solely the fault of that unit’s commanding officer? Or was the loss of Spear Three indicative of a larger failure? A strategy so flawed that it will lead our forces to even more defeats in the future? If so, the officer who devised that strategy and continues to use it is guilty of gross incompetence and must be disciplined. That is the business of this court: to establish that officer’s guilt, or to proclaim his innocence, and having done so, to take the appropriate action. Lance Commander Moder-Ta will give his arguments first, followed by War Commander Poseen-Ka. Are there questions? No? That being the case, Lance Commander Moder-Ta may proceed.”

  Confident that his case was practically airtight, Moder-Ta stood and read his opening statement. Most of it was boring, consisting of a blow-by-blow account of the battle they had just seen, some carefully chosen statistics, and other not especially interesting quotes, opinions, and judgments.

  The presentation was so boring, in fact, that Poseen-Ka saw Sector Marshal Isam-Ka’s left eyelid start to droop. It was impossible to tell what the officer’s right eyelid was doing, since it was hidden by a black eye patch, but chances were that it was drooping too. Isam-Ka was falling asleep, a fact that wouldn’t have mattered much, except that he was the one member of the court that Poseen-Ka could rely upon. Not because they were members of the same clan, which they were, but because the glue of military politics held them together.

  Like Poseen-Ka, the sector marshal favored deliberate advance over slapdash leaps, had done so throughout his career, and was unlikely to change his mind at this late date. So, with Pem-Da opposed to his interests, and Dal-Ba leaning in that direction, Isam-Ka became critical. What if he missed an important piece of testimony? Or was dead to the world at the moment when Poseen-Ka needed him most? Poseen-Ka hurled thoughts at the other officer and willed him to stay awake. It didn’t work.

  Finally, with his statement read and safely behind him, Moder-Ta turned to his witnesses. Baldwin was first.

  The Hudathans made no attempt to swear him in as a human court would have done. After all, why bother? Any witness worth his or her salt would give responses favorable to them and it was the court’s job to sort that out.

  Nor was Baldwin asked to move to another part of the compartment, stand, or otherwise change the position of his body. He did sit up, however, and felt the translator thump against his chest. He looked into Moder-Ta’s eyes. They were as hard as stone.

  “So, Colonel Baldwin, you are an officer of some experience and have seen the evidence. What do you conclude?”

  Moder-Ta had used his military title! For effect, yes, but it was a first, and Baldwin felt his spirits soar. He forced himself to concentrate.

  “The objective, a third-rate industrial asteroid, should’ve been bypassed and dealt with later. Failing that, Spear Three’s commanding officer should’ve launched an all-out attack, what you would call the ‘Intaka.’ Had he done so right away, the humans would have been unable to launch a counterattack on your battleships.”

  Moder-Ta eyed the members of the court to make sure they were listening and was pleased to see that Isam-Ka had opened his eyes. He summoned what he hoped was an objective expression.

  “You are too modest, Colonel. Members of your race won a great victory. They fought against overwhelming odds and won. Based on their performance, War Commander Poseen-Ka might argue that every outpost poses a threat. A threat that must be successfully dealt with before the overall war effort can proceed.”

  “And he’d be wrong,” Baldwin argued calmly. “Your forces have taken dozens of worlds, hundreds of outposts similar to the one under discussion, and literally thousands of lesser settlements. None of them put up a creditable defense.”

  “Ah,” Moder-Ta said, “but the war commander has an answer for that argument as well. He points out that most of your naval forces ran rather than fought, and suggests that they are waiting to ambush our fleet and administer the blow of death. How would you respond to that?”

  “I’d say it was absurd,” Baldwin replied contemptuously. “The Emperor is insane, his government is riddled with corruption, and it takes them forever to make a simple decision. That’s why you must attack now. Before they can organize the kind of ambush the war commander envisions. To wait is utter madness. Some sort of competent leadership is sure to emerge eventually, and when it does, the military will come around. And, due to the fact that their fleet is virtually intact, you’ll have a fight on your hands. Imagine what happened to Spear Three, only multiplied a hundred times.”

  Norwood felt a sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t so sure about the Emperor, but the rest was true, or could be true. What if the Hudathans believed him? What if Poseen-Ka was replaced? The Hudathans would bypass planets like Frio II, devour the empire in huge bloody gulps, and annihilate her race.

  Of course Poseen-Ka might win the war as well, but his strategy provided for at least the possibility of a defense, and something was better than nothing.

  Spear Commanders Two and Five testified after that, risking their careers on the strength of promises made by Moder-Ta, and echoing each other’s comments. Neither seemed very enthusiastic.

  But enthusiastic or not, they allowed Moder-Ta to put them through their paces, endorsed his point of view, and added their weight to the opposition. The fact that they dared to oppose Poseen-Ka, or were desperate enough to do so, would damage his credibility. Of course Spear Commanders One and Four offset their testimony to some extent, sitting as they did on Poseen-Ka’s side of the room, staring balefully at their peers.

  Poseen-Ka struggled to hide his anger and swore a silent oath to deal with Commanders Two and Five later. Assuming he was alive to do so.

  Dal-Ba squinted in Moder-Ta’s direction. “Do you have anything to add?”

  Moder
-Ta made eye contact with each member of the court in turn. “Yes, I would like to say that your decision will influence more than a single officer’s career. If War Commander Poseen-Ka remains in command, and continues his present strategy, we could lose the war. Millions of Hudathan lives could be lost, but worse than that, the survivors would be little more than slaves. The outcome is up to you.”

  Hoskins had learned a lot about the Hudatha since Norwood had walked in out of the snow, and was filled with admiration for Moder-Ta’s skillful use of racial psychology. If the other Hudatha were even half as paranoid as Norwood claimed they were, his arguments would have a telling effect.

  Dal-Ba looked especially sober. “Thank you, Lance Commander Moder-Ta. You may return to your seat. The time has come for War Commander Poseen-Ka to present his arguments. You may proceed.”

  Poseen-Ka stood and moved away from both his chair and the vulnerability that it signified. He drifted towards Isam-Ka and made eye contact with Dal-Ba.

  “Thank you. I would like to open my arguments by providing the court with a summary of the war effort.”

  The lights dimmed once again and darkness filled the room. A three-dimensional diagram appeared at the center of the room. In contrast to the mix of computer simulation and actual video used by Moder-Ta, this presentation was entirely symbolic.

  Clusters of red spheres represented human-controlled planets, clusters of green spheres stood for Hudathan worlds, and a scattering of blue deltas symbolized Spears One, Two, Four, and Five.

  Poseen-Ka started to talk as soon as the model was in place. He told the court about the attack on Worber’s World, and on subsequent worlds, and how the fleet had won each battle. And as he talked red spheres turned to green, each one giving silent testimony to the effectiveness of his strategy, and adding weight to his arguments.

  “And so,” Poseen-Ka concluded, “my actions can be justified with a single word, and the word is ‘success.’ Yes, mistakes were made, yes, I lost Spear Three, but consider the overall context. Think about an overall casualty rate below computer projections. Look at the worlds that were part of the human empire and now glow green. Consider the fact that our backs are protected by Hudathan-held planets, that our supply lines are unchallenged, and that our homeworld is safe. Furthermore, if it were not for the fact that my commanders are here testifying both for and against me, we would have even more victories to celebrate.”