America's Galactic Foreign Legion - Book 1: Feeling Lucky

by Walter Knight

  “They are legal immigrants,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Under colonial law, anyone is allowed to stay on land legally acquired and developed. The deeds were recorded with a local magistrate.”

  “Under false pretenses, I’m sure. There is no way any judge knowingly allowed spiders to buy land in the human zone.”

  “This land was a worthless desert before the green spiders dug wells and irrigated. Now Waterstone is an oasis,” said Lieutenant Lopez. “Besides, we have another problem. They might still have their own nuke.”

  “What?” I yelled. “Where would spider squatters get a nuke?”

  “I sold it to them before we left Arthropoda,” explained Lieutenant Lopez. “How was I to know they might bring it to New Colorado?”

  I turned to the spider merchant. “Do you still have a nuke?”

  “Of course I do,” answered the merchant spider. “How do you think we negotiated our freedom from the Empire? Once the Emperor found out we had a nuke in his capital, they couldn’t let us leave fast enough.”

  I gave the matter some thought. General Kalipetsis gave me explicit orders not to kill anyone and not to start another war. This part of New Colorado really was a godforsaken worthless desert. But the green spiders seemed happy living here, piling up rocks and irrigating alkaline flats that looked just like Death Valley. Sure. Why not? Let them have it.

  I gathered all ten thousand spider inhabitants for an announcement. I addressed the crowd on a public address speaker. “Repeat after me: I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States Galactic Federation of America. And to the Republic, for which it stands, one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.” I motioned for Corporal Kool to give me the citizenship forms he had brought up on the computer. “You are all now citizens of the United States.”

  “We now have constitutional rights?” asked the merchant spider. The whole town let out a cheer and rushed forward to sign the citizenship forms and to touch me. Alcohol flowed freely, and a celebration began. Today would be their Independence Day. The merchant spider was the first to sign his papers.

  I went through the checklist with him. “You can now vote and run for public office. You have the right to join one of two political parties,” I explained. “Do you want to be a Democrat or a Republican?”

  “Democrat,” answered the bewildered merchant spider, shrugging.

  “You might want to reconsider that,” I said. “It’s still legal to be a Democrat, but they are frowned upon these days as being weak on security matters.”

  “We will be Republicans,” announced the merchant spider.

  “Excellent choice,” I said. “General Kalipetsis will be happy to hear you all are Republicans.”

  “General Kalipetsis is going to have a conniption when he finds out what you just did,” said Lieutenant Lopez.

  “General Kalipetsis will get over it,” I answered. Just then a speckled green spider gave me a hug and slobbered all over my face. I gave the spider a shove. “Get away from me!”

  “I think she likes you,” said the merchant spider, chuckling.

  “She?” I asked, as the speckled green spider put a claw around my waist and slid a hand down to my rear, giving me a pinch. “Is she drunk?”

  “It is almost noon. Of course I’m drunk,” answered the speckled green spider. “You are our savior, our hero, our George Washington. In appreciation, I want to give my body to you.”

  “Are you nuts?” I responded, giving her another shove. This time the shove had emphasis.

  “I love warrior males who resist,” she said, putting four arms around me. “You excite me so much.”

  I looked the female spider in the eyes and saw a reflection of her next meal. I drew my commando knife and took a wicked swipe at the female spider. She blocked my blow and twisted the knife from my hand. A metal sap across my head put me in La La Land. The crowd, both spider and human, cheered drunkenly as the spider babe dragged me semi-conscious across the street to a hotel. I probably made history that night by mating with a female spider. It wasn’t all that bad. ‘Amanda’ had skills that no human should know about.

  I’m sure Amanda is a tender loving being. But as she had hissed during lovemaking, I have never been so terrified in my life. At times I thought she was going to suck out my blood and eat me. I was determined to never mate outside of my species again.

  “I really like you,” Amanda said, afterwards.

  “I really like you, too,” I said. “You are very special to me.” I probably would have enjoyed myself more if I had not been concussed and terrified.

  “Can I see you again?” she asked. “Maybe we can establish a lasting relationship?”

  “No, love,” I responded, gently. “If you ever approach me again I will shoot you.”

  “Too bad. You humans are so odd,” said Amanda, getting dressed. “I like humans. I like you. However, I will respect your customs and not press the matter. I will always treasure our one-night stand.”

  CHAPTER 21

  #10 of the Intelligentsia & State Security addressed his troops. “The human pestilence is the most vicious and barbarous enemy imaginable. Humans rarely take prisoners. They think nothing of eating our soldiers and civilians alike. Even babies are not safe from their ravenous appetite. Their hordes swept across the galaxy like locusts, but we stopped them here on Planet #6. It is a credit to your courage and determination. You are the first line of defense against the human pestilence. Be proud. It is our responsibility to be diligent and sharp as a razor claw. We cannot rest. We are the Emperor’s sword. A study of human history is a study of repeated genocide. The galaxy will never be safe until the humans are dealt with once and for all. Let it begin here.”

  * * * * *

  Across the DMZ General Kalipetsis addressed his men. “New Colorado was a barren lifeless planet with a carbon dioxide atmosphere until the human race terra-farmed it. It took one hundred years to create the lush paradise you see all about you. Then, after all our hard work an ingenuity, the spiders invaded and tried to exterminate our peaceful colony using nukes and nerve agent. Now, the spiders have decided they want to live here. The spiders want a windfall from our efforts. I have news for the spiders. Humanity will not leave New Colorado, and the spiders may not stay. The spiders will learn the hard way that human race is the most deadly species in the galaxy. When reinforcements arrive, the Legion will be serving an eviction notice on the spiders.”

  * * * * *

  Corporal Krueger and Private Delacruz were three miles across the spider border. The Legion sniper team was looking for targets of opportunity. Spider snipers had been causing casualties all along the DMZ, and it was time for payback. Private Delacruz scanned the distant roadway for movement with his spotter’s scope. A small column of vehicles was making its way through the hills from the DMZ. One vehicle in particular interested Private Delacruz. It was a staff car. The vehicle was adorned with green flags on the front, had no roof, and was abound with antennas. The passenger in the back seat wore the black uniform of an Intelligentsia officer. The fool must be new to the area, thought private Delacruz. Or, maybe he is just stupid. He rides around like he owns the place.

  As the vehicle passed by, Private Delacruz set off a remote-controlled IED (improvised explosive device). The staff car was flipped onto its side. The officer, the new #10, landed safely on his feet and drew a pistol. Corporal Krueger fired once, a two round burst of 50-cal. rounds that blew #10 apart. Corporal Krueger and Private Delacruz then ran towards the DMZ. The two were in peak physical condition. They could run for miles. It was standard operating procedure to hit a target, relocate quickly, and then set up for another hit. Blocked by spider patrols at the DMZ, they covered themselves with camouflage nets and waited for darkness.

  * * * * *

  #64, riding in the lead vehicle, radioed in to report the IED explosion and the coordinates given by their sniper location device. An Intelligentsia tracker team was immediately dispa
tched to the scene. #64 accompanied the tracking team swiftly through the forest. The team was led by #85 and his partner, a giant monitor dragon. The serpent would stop, flick its tongue, and continue to follow the scent. #64 kept a wary distance from the dragon. Everyone knew the dragon’s motivation for its relentless chase – dinner. Dragons were always hungry. They were bred that way. Dragons didn’t care much whether it is human or Anthropodan on the menu.

  As they approached the DMZ border, the dragon crouched, stalking its prey. #64 unclipped its leash and let the dragon circle. Suddenly the dragon darted through the underbrush, striking Private Delacruz in the face with poisonous three-inch fangs. Private Delacruz never saw the monster that killed him. Hearing the commotion and screams, Corporal Krueger immediately raised his hands and surrendered.

  * * * * *

  In the joint dining hall of the DMZ Village, the spiders and humans sat and ate on opposite sides. The food was terrible and the portions were too small. Among the spiders, Intelligentsia and army separated. On the Legion side, officers ate apart from their men. But, today I walked into the dining hall, escorting our newest member of the United States Galactic Foreign Legion, fresh out of basic training. He was armed with a shotgun and a submachine gun. Everyone in the village was armed now. I put my hand on the shoulder of the large light green spider from Waterstone and announced, “Gentlemen, meet Private George Rambo Washington, our newest legionnaire. He’s one of us, now. Make it work.”

  “Interesting name,” said Private Williams. “How did you get it?”

  “I chose the name based on Captain Czerinski’s recommendation,” answered Private Washington. “He said it comes from a long line of great human warriors.”

  “Traitorous green scum,” commented #64. “We will not eat with him.”

  “Good. It will smell better in here when you leave,” I said.

  “Does that mean he’s eating with us?” asked Private Williams.

  “You have sex with your mother,” said Private Washington defiantly, obviously feeling the need to stick up for himself.

  “Sergeant Green,” I said, as I sat down with my men, “work with Private Washington on his swearing. He doesn’t have our lingo down quite right.”

  “He’s saying it right,” insisted Sergeant Green. “It’s the translation device that’s messing up.”

  #64 walked across the dividing line to confront Private Washington. “What did you say about my mother? You pond scum!”

  “Who’s your mamma?” taunted Private Washington.

  “Enough! Both of you be seated,” I ordered. I nodded to one of the spider sergeants. “Somebody here take care of Crab Boy.”

  “You don’t give orders to the Intelligentsia,” responded #64. He reached into a pouch and pulled out two dog tags, tossing them onto the table by my plate. Through dried blood I could read DELACRUZ. The other tag said KRUEGER.

  “What happened to my men?” I asked.

  “Delacruz was eaten by a monitor dragon. Krueger is under arrest for terrorism and the murder of commander #10,” answered #64. “Good riddance to both human pestilence.”

  “You will return Corporal Krueger immediately,” I ordered. “I hold you personally responsible for his well being until he is returned.”

  “I will not,” replied #64. “The human pestilence will be tried and executed according to our laws.”

  “This farce will continue no longer,” I said, getting up from my table. Humans and spiders stood and backed away from each other, fidgeting with the triggers of their assault rifles. “The DMZ Village will be evacuated. I am burning it down.”

  “You cannot do that,” said one of the spider sergeants of their regular army. “No good will come of that. You do not have the authority.”

  “If our species are going to be at war,” I said, placing the dog tags in a pouch, “then I’m through sneaking around about it. Let the fun and games begin.”

  “If war comes, you do not have enough troops to win,” warned the spider sergeant. “You will not have a chance.”

  That night I burned the DMZ Village to the ground. The red glow could be seen from space. Via satellite, the red glow on BHTV was visible from across the galaxy on Earth.

  CHAPTER 22

  Planetary Commander #1was enjoying his first cup of coffee – human coffee, it is the best, ‘mountain grown,’ he had heard from Military Intelligence. #1’s tranquility was disturbed by the intercom.

  “The Emperor is on line one,” announced his administrative assistant.

  “Good morning, Your Majesty. How may I help you this fine day?” asked #1, trying to sound upbeat.

  “Fine day?” asked the Emperor. “It’s not a fine day when I turn on my TV and see the DMZ Village burning down before my general on Planet #6 even bothers tell me about it! What the hell is happening on my Planet #6?”

  “There nothing to worry about, Your Majesty,” assured #1. “A couple of our local Intelligentsia commanders got killed trying to make a name for themselves messing with that Captain Czerinski. Remember Czerinski? It was Czerinski who burned down the DMZ Village when we caught some human assassins and refused to repatriate them. I was about to order an artillery barrage to teach the human pestilence a lesson when you called.”

  “I’m glad to hear that I have nothing to worry about,” said the Emperor. “Other than you are about to start a war with the United States Galactic Federation.”

  “The human pestilence only have a few Legion units on Planet #6,” responded #1. “We could easily defeat them.”

  “You idiot! Place yourself under house arrest and put the Lieutenant Governor on the phone,” demanded the Emperor. “It seems like no one can follow orders. That will change!”

  * * * * *

  “General Kalipetsis, the President is on the phone for you, sir,” announced First Sergeant Mendoza.

  “Tell the President I’m not in,” said General Kalipetsis. “Tell him I’m out doing important general stuff out in the field.”

  “I can’t do that, sir,” said First Sergeant Mendoza. “He knows you are here.”

  “Just fine,” snapped General Kalipetsis, turning on his communications device and seeing the President staring back at him. “Hello Mr. President. How very good to talk to you again.”

  “I put you in charge of patrolling one little DMZ on one measly planet,” said the President. “How hard can that be? I wake up and what do I see on the Galaxy-FOX News Network? The DMZ Village burning down!”

  “It's not my fault,” said General Kalipetsis. “Captain Czerinski burned it down. Besides, the spiders aren’t cooperating. They’re sniping at us every chance they get, and things are getting out of hand. We need re-enforcements so we can drive the spiders off New Colorado once and for all.”

  “General Kalipetsis, you had better start looking at the big picture. There are aliens out there a lot nastier than the spiders, and they’re causing problems on the other frontier. And, there is always the Chinese problem. They’re getting restless, again. You will not be getting more troops. The regular army is needed elsewhere. We need to be building alliances, not starting a new war.”

  “But what if the spiders attack?” asked General Kalipetsis. “I think we can only prevent disaster with a pre-emptive strike.”

  “I just got off the phone with the Emperor of Arthopoda,” said the President. “We have a lot more in common with the spiders than not. You will work things out with their local field commanders. That is an order.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. President, you are being a bit naive,” said General Kalipetsis. “You can’t trust the spiders. They will nuke us while we sleep. They have done it before.”

  “If you start a war on New Colorado I will put you on a slow prison ship bound for Earth,” promised the President. “You probably won’t make it here, though, because you will get thrown out an airlock along the way. And that will be the end of any political aspirations you might be harboring too. Am I making myself clear, Gene
ral?”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” said General Kalipetsis. “What shall I do about Captain Czerinski? He is like a loose cannon. He might start a war all on his own, even if I don’t. I was thinking about placing him under arrest for burning down the DMZ Village.”

  “I don’t think it would be a good idea to court-martial a Congressional Medal of Honor awardee and the son of my new Vice President. Besides, the public loves him,” added the President. “He gets things done. Giving the green spiders at Waterstone citizenship was a stroke of genius. And they even chose to be Republicans. The spiders are even joining the Foreign Legion. Which reminds me. By Executive Order I have created a National Guard company out at Waterstone. It’s all spiders. The problem is that every adult male and female spider in Waterstone wants to join. We might end up with a National Guard division instead of just a company. You want more troops? There you go. I want you to go to Waterstone and inspect my new National Guard troops and give them anything they need, such as equipment, drill instructors, weapons, even armor.”

  “Yes sir,” said General Kalipetsis.

  “Don’t disappoint me, General, or I will give your star to Captain Czerinski.”

  * * * * *

  “Captain Czerinski,” said General Kalipetsis, on field radio. “Are you still roasting marsh mallows and wieners down at the DMZ Village? Got a pig in the ground yet?”

  “Sorry about the village, sir,” I said. “I guess I lost my temper.”

  “Well, I smoothed things over with the President,” said General Kalipetsis. “But in the future, use a little more restraint. Also, plans for war are on hold. The President has ordered local field commanders – that’s you – to work things out. I will be negotiating with the Lieutenant Governor.”