HALF BREED

HALF BREED

By:  Astha  Completed
Language: English
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Marco met the other man's eyes. He refused to make it easy. Page broke the silence. "John is guilty as hell, we both know that, and he deserves to be punished. Two years on Gaphas would serve the bastard right! But why punish the entire Legion for the actions of one man? The last thing we need is more negative publicity". Marco started to reply, but the general held up a hand. "Give it some thought, that's all I ask. See you in court". The dismissal was clear. Marco stood, said, "Yes, sir," and turned toward the door. Page saw the mane of silvery gray fur that ran down the other man's neck and winced. A HALF BREED. What the hell was next? Officers with scales? It made him sick. The door closed, and Marco was gone.

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117 chapters
One - EARTH
The sun rose blood red, threw shadows towards the Pacific, and bathed the campus in soft pink light. Colonel Marco "Bay" Dooley III left the BOQ, savored the crisp morning air, and looked across the quad. He was a tall man with his mother's steady gray eyes and his father's rangy body. The tan stopped at his collar. He nodded to a civilian and stepped onto a carefully maintained path.The pavement was barely wide enough to accommodate four people running side by side, abreast, or two columns of two, which was the way that cadets moved from place to place. Just one of the methods by which they were taught to follow orders, work as a team, and focus on group objectives.The administration building, also known as Tonel Hall, lay directly ahead. His father had been the first person of Zuch descent to enter the academy, carry the class pennant over the rooftops, and collide with a general while making his escape. A story he had heard, what? A hundred times?A company of cadets c
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Two - EARTH
The Conference room was small, no more than twelve feet across, and painted bile green. There were no decorations other than a poorly executed portrait of Captain Jackson Morre and a neatly framed recruiting poster. It showed a trooper II, arms spitting death, with bodies all around. The caption read: "Last to fall". The furnishings consisted of a much abused wooden table, six mismatched chairs, and a government-issue waste paper basket. Sandral Usmos was beautiful in a hard, calculated way. Her hair was blonde, her her eyes were green, and her teeth were white. When she spoke, it was with the manner of someone in the habit of giving orders. "Take a break, Bari. I want to speak with my son". Daniel Bari had dark skin and extremely intelligent eyes. They flicked from mother to son. He was a lawyer, one of the best, and worth every credit of his exorbitant fee. "Tell him to get his shit together, Sandral, there won't be a second chance".
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Three - EARTH
"The witness may be seated", Page said pointedly. Marco felt blood rush to his face and hurried to comply. "Thank you", Page said sarcastically. "Please proceed". Harry nodded and said "yes, sir", turned to Marco. "Please give the court your name and rank". "Dooley Marco, Colonel, Commanding Officer, Rim Sector 872"."And the nature of the forces under your command?" "I command a mixed battalion consisting of two infantry companies, two platoons of sentient armor, three batteries of artillery, and a headquarters group". Harry nodded agreeably. "And for those not familiar with Rim Sector 872, where is your battalion headquartered?" "On Foxybro". "Are all of your troops stationed on Foxybro?" Marco shook his head, "no. We have outposts as well". "Outposts that can be resupplied and reinforced form your headquarters on Foxybro?" "Yes, exactly". "
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Four - EARTH
The next two days passed rather slowly. In spite of the fact that he had completed his testimony, there was the possibility that Marco would be recalled. That being the case, he was free to leave the campus so long as he stayed nearby. An autocab carried the officer to AL Patro, the heart of the old city, and the scene of many youthful adventures. The neighborhood opened gradually, like some exotic flower, complete with it's own doubtful perfume. The Legionnaire ordered the vehicle to a halt and walked the familiar streets. Many of his favorite haunts were gone, replaced by newer establishments, none of which felt the same. Here were the flop houses, cheap restaurants, and bars with names like Hananias Merry, the Corporal's Delight, and the White Jedi. And here too were the Legionnaires themselves, easily identifiable by their short haircuts, regimental tattoos, and flinty stares. Beggars who had fought under alien suns, looked death in the eye, a
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Five - IN SPACE
The ready room had been painted orange, green, and blue over the last thirty six years and all three layers of paint had started to peel. The names of long gone crew members had been stenciled over empty suit racks and never removed. Not out of respect, or sentiment, but because Jedidia Jyro didn't care.The space armor had clocked more than ten thousand hours and was no longer covered by anything other than carefully applied patches. The warranty was little more than a memory, nobody would write a policy on it, and Jyro was broke.That being the case, the prospector ran the diagnostics twice, mumbled "Good girl" when the read outs came up green, and entered the Pelocan's main lock.The name stemmed from the way the vessel was shaped. Unlike many of the ships owned and operated by Jyro's peers, the Pelocan had actually been designed for mining asteroids, which explained the big beaklike bow.Farther back, roughly halfway down the hull, two pylons extended at right angles
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Six - IN SPACE
The human shuddered, released his grip on the withered limb, and felt his back hit the inside surface of the chamber. That was where the prospector was, still examining his discovery, when Herbert called. "Sorry to interrupt, but it appears as though a ship is headed our way, ETA three hours, sixteen minutes, and thirty two seconds". Jyro used the Lord's name in conjunction with a swear word, was ashamed of himself, and started over. "Blast! What kind of ship?" "Too early to tell", the AI replied. "Looks big, though, judging from the amount of heat". Jyro swore once again. Just his luck... A company ship? Or a pirate? He wasn't sure which he dreaded more. Either would be happy to steal his prize. But not if he could take the drifter aboard, hide among the asteroids, and wait the heathens out. The prospector turned, grabbed hold of the tentacle, and pulled. There was no resistance. The far ends was free. Jyro swore, fired his thrusters, and caromed
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Seven - IN SPACE
There were fewer asteroids now, a fact that allowed Jyro to see his pursuer for the first time. It filed the main screen. He fell through the pit of his stomach. The situation was worse than he had supposed. This construct was as alien as the drifter that occupied his hold, only a lot more frightening!The oncoming vessel had the free-form bulk of a ship never meant for atmospheric use. It consisted of three cylinders, all mounted side by side, and surrounded by a framework of metal. The force field that protected the hull shimmered as rock fragments made contact with it. The human watched aghast as still another asteroid exploded and the alien vessel pushed its way through the resulting debris field. The Pelocan shuddered as alien tractor beams locked onto her hull. The drives screamed as they fought to pull the ship free, and junk avalanched off the control panel. Jyro sat transfixed as garbage tumbled into his lap. The Shem ship, for that's the name
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Eight - EARTH
The bar was located near the San Juan spaceport and catered to a wide variety of clientele. Smoke floated above the tables like neon clouds. There were patrons, plenty of them, including a group of cloned spacers, a pair of spindly Dwellers, something in a hab tank and some Cux legionnaires. Dancers, most of whom were humans, writhed within special designed holograms. The music, much of which was alien, throbbed within carefully engineered "sound cells". Legion Colonel Luton Arthur had been wearing uniforms for more than thirty years and felt uncomfortable when clad in anything else. Yes, there was some degree of correlation between civilian clothes and the status of the people who wore them, but you couldn't be sure. Not uniforms, though. Thanks to badges of ranks, service stripes, unit badges, decorations, and yes, the tattoos many choose to wear, a knowledgeable eye could read a legionnaire's uniform like a book. A single glance was sufficient to establ
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Nine - EARTH
The office, paid for by the good people of Earth, was enormous. Carefully tended plants stood just so, each in a matching pot, arranged to complement the cane furniture. The early afternoon sun filtered in through gauzy white curtains, a ceiling fan stirred the slightest scented air, and music, one of the arias for which Dwellers were justifiably famous, wafted from unseen speakers.The android looked exactly as she did, and, over a period of time, Governor Sandral Usmos had come to regard the robot as an extension of her own persona. They wore the same kind of clothes, jewelry, and makeup, walked with the same determined strides, and spoke in the same clipped syntax.A clone might have offered a more elegant solution, but would almost certainly object to the role of professional decoy. No, the robot made more sense, and would provide a much needed alibi should anything go wrong. Treason can be dangerous, after all - and is best practiced from the shadows.Sandr
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Ten - EARTH
The tone was cheerful, deceptively so, and Quinn responded with that in mind. "I don't blame you for being angry, sir, but I can put things right, and double the company's revenue within the next twelve months".It was an absurd claim, but delivered with such sincerity that Zuon was intrigued. He perched on a corner of the conference table. The sarcasm was obvious. "Really? How fascinating! Tell me more".So Quinn did, starting with the macro socioeconomic situation, and going on to knit the various pieces of the scheme together. Zuon, who didn't impress easily, found himself growing increasingly excited.The plan would not only improve the companies bottom line, but put the screws to Doug Douglas Enterprises, something Zuon had long wanted to do.The industrialist sent Quinn on his way, summoned his secretary staff, and ordered them to disrobe. The clones complied, which was nice for Zuon, and for those scheduled for the pit. Their presentation went off without
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