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Urgency made Keill's grip tighten again on the collar。 'Where？'
'Listen； go easy； will y' ？' Crask pawed weakly at the fierce grip。 'Somewhere out near Saltrenius。 That's all he said … truth。 Don't know nothin' more。'
Without a word Keill flung the man aside and turned to move swiftly towards his ship。 Despite his control； his pulse had quickened； his eyes were bright； tendrils of hope rose within him。 He had heard tales of legionaries being seen； had followed them all down to their ultimate dead ends。 But this was different。 A fixed base； of course！ It was the right thing to do … and then from it send out the word to be picked up by any other survivors from Moros； to gather them in。
Above him the blunt wedge…shape of his ship loomed。 He sprang up the ramp and through the hatch of the airlock； sealing it behind him ready for space。 Strapping himself into the padded slingseat； he swiftly activated the control panel； feeding details into his guidance puter。 Around him the life…support system hummed sweetly into action； and in moments the ship rose howling into the night； on a towering pillar of almost invisible energy。
As he hurtled through the territorial space of Coranex； Keill brought himself under control； regaining his calm； his patience。 His eyes and hands automatically monitored the precision of his departure orbit； while his mind just as automatically sorted through the details of the journey ahead。 He knew his fuel core was getting near to needing replenishment； but it would probably last。 His air renewal； food concentrates and the rest would also hold out。 Thankfully； he would need no stopovers till he reached the planet Saltrenius。
Idly he wondered why the group of legionaries … two？ three？ … would choose such a place。 A sparsely inhabited world； in a minor system； well off the major spaceways。 What could it offer ？ And who； he wondered； was the big legionary whom Crask's freighterman had described as 'dangerous looking'？
But Keill had learned long before the futility of asking questions that could not be answered。 Answers would e when he reached Saltrenius。
He had reached deep space now； the planet he had just left receding into a small disc of brightness in the rear viewscreen。 The other screens； forward and side； presented the familiar panorama … the unnumbered points of light that made up mankind's Inhabited Galaxy。
Keill's fingertips issued more instructions to his puter； which searched its prodigious memory for the position of the planet Saltrenius； found it； and set its course。
On the viewscreens the points of light shimmered； blurred。 The puter was obediently taking the ship out of planetary drive and into 'Overlight' … in which a ship could cross the breadth of the galaxy in only days。
The viewscreens went blank。 A formless void gathered round Keill and his ship。 In Overlight； he no longer existed in the normal universe。 Moving unfathomable times faster than the speed of light； the ship had entered a non…place； leaving space and time behind it。 Only Keill's inner time sense remained； to note the puter's estimate of arrival at Saltrenius in about ten hours。
He settled back against the slingseat； letting his eyes close wearily。 It had been a long and active night … and somewhere； behind his rigid control； the pain still flamed and seared throughout his body。
Yet he felt a fierce gladness as sleep began to close round him。 At least there was a chance now that he would find others of his kind； before he died。 And perhaps then he would also find answers to all his questions。 Even； if fortune willed it； a chance to wreak the bitter； hate…filled vengeance that blazed within him more fiercely than any physical pain。
But that thought； all thought； faded as he drifted into sleep。 And with sleep； as if from the grey emptiness that surrounded his speeding ship； came the dreams。
Chapter two
The dreams were fragmentary at first； as they always were。 Broken； fleeting visions of a landscape … of a bleak and inhospitable world； dominated by chill expanses of desert； by towering ranges of rock…fanged mountains。
It was Keill Randor's world … the planet Moros； in the system of a white star on the outer reaches of the Inhabited Galaxy。 A harsh world it was； a harsh life it gave to the space colonists who had made it their home so long ago； during the centuries of the Scattering … the time when the human race had spread itself out through the many millions of planets in the galaxy； to seek those thousands that could support human life。
Moros was one of them； for at least it had breathable air； with water and thin vegetation grudgingly available in its central regions。 It also had a variety of its own life forms … the venomous reptiles of many weird shapes； the deadly sand cats； the huge； horned mammoths of the mountains； the tangled vine growths that fed on flesh … all as dangerous and threatening as the desert itself。
Yet they had survived； those early spacefarers … survived and adapted to their new home。 And its rigours made them and their offspring tough； resourceful； self…reliant people； who even so had learned the need for order； stability and discipline in their lives。 There was room for little else； from the beginning； if humans were to survive on Moros。
Yet the discipline was not imposed； from above。 It was accepted； as a religion is accepted； by every human inhabitant of that world。 It was taught to the children before they were weaned。 It became a basic reality of life。
In the same way； as they learned to order and discipline themselves； so the humans of Moros learned to fight to protect themselves。 Fighting； against the alien beasts； the cruel environment； was also a reality of life； was essential for life itself。 The people of Moros taught themselves and their children everything they needed to know for survival； in every kind of deadly circumstance。 And that included a strict schooling in forms of self…defence and bat； unarmed or with a wide array of weaponry。
So the people lived； their numbers grew； even finding a share of contentment and satisfaction in the relentless hardships of their rugged； austere lives。 But Moros was a poor planet； with little to offer the rest of the galaxy in trade。 For centuries it remained mostly alone； unvisited。 And all that time its people developed and refined their special way of life； being more fiercely independent； self…sufficient； at one with themselves。 They also became a planetful of the most skilled； most effective fighting men and women in the galaxy。
Yet the people of Moros never lost that earliest sense of total mitment。 In their world； munality ruled … cooperation； sharing； mutual aid and support。 The people of Moros did not fight among themselves。 All petition was relegated to an annual festival； the Martial Games。 In their way of life； private greed； destructive ambition； selfish indifference to the needs of others … such anti…social； anti…survival ways were almost unknown。
Slowly； other human…inhabited planets in that region of the galaxy became aware of the uniqueness of Moros。 And others saw what the people of Moros had not realized … that theirs was not truly a poor planet； for it had a special and valuable natural resource。
It had the martial skills of its population。
Gradually； the people of Moros were invited to use that resource； to trade with it as if it were minerals or food products。 They took their skills out into the galaxy； small groups of fighting men and women； hired … at substantial sums … to fight in small wars on this planet or that。 They became what； in an ancient human language； had once been called mercenaries。 But they felt no shame in doing so； nor was any put upon them。
They learned just how supremely skilled they were； pared to other soldiers in the Inhabited Worlds。 And the rest of the galaxy learned as well。 Soon more offers were ing in then could be accepted； and Moros began to know a measure of wealth。
With that ine … held in mon； like most property on the planet … the people of Moros acquired new； up…to…date equipment and weapons。 They bought spaceships； from one…man fighters to vast battle cruisers； and created a formidable fleet。 They visited other worlds； studied other advanced bat techniques and took them home for their people to master them。 So they organized themselves into an armed force that could； if needed； include every adult on the planet。 It was a force that became legendary throughout the galaxy。
The Legions of Moros。
Even then； even though any army needs carefully drawn lines and levels of mand； the munal spirit of Moros was not impaired。 Nor was the order and discipline： discord； slacking； disobedience were unknown； and would have been shocking notions to any legionary。 In battle； some led and others followed； but they did so in order that every section and unit would operate like a finely tuned machine。
Otherwise the legionaries shared their lives as equals …working together； going into bat together； celebrating victories together。
And； in the end； dying together。
（Keill Randor's dream shifted； as it always did； and the broken； fleeting images gathered； held steady。 From the depths of his sleeping darkness Keill moaned； as the dream…memory rose； clear and terrible … of the words he had heard from his ship's municator that day 。。。）
He had been sent； with the other one…person ships of his Strike Group； on a simple reconnaissance mission。 But it was more than halfway across the galaxy； and in one of the most densely populated sectors； where human worlds and their stars clustered like … as the Morosian saying had it … sand fleas at an oasis。
Keill and his Group had e out of Overlight and were moving on ordinary planetary drive towards their objective …a small planet where a local war looked like expanding into a major conflict； and where the Legions had been offered a huge sum to join in on one side。
The Strike Group's mission was simply to gather data； to study the planet from orbit； to assess the war potential； to monitor broadcasts and so on。 This data would help the Central mand of the Legions to decide whether to take up the offer。
For the Legions； by then； could pick and choose among contracts。 And their ethic； born of their history； would not allow them to take the side of aggressors； or fanatics； or would…be exploiters。
Often they had fought； for less payment； on the side of those defending themselves against just such enemies。 Often； indeed； the mere presence of the Legions on the side of the defenders had prevented an aggressor from ever launching a full…scale attack。
As the planet grew larger in their viewscreens； Keill and his group were checking their inter…ship munications link； preparing to slide into an orbit suitable for scanning the surface of this world。 They were not advertising their presence； and hoped to go unnoticed … so Keill was mildly annoyed when he spotted a handful of silvery； tubular shapes rising towards his group through clouds beneath them。 A subdued ripple of voices on the municator showed that the rest of the group had also seen the other ships。
'Maybe they're friendly； maybe not；' Keill said to his group。 'We'll ease away on a new course and be ready for evasive action。'
His fingers moved over the controls； programming in the new course that his group would pick up and follow。 He kept his eyes firmly on the approaching ships； waiting for some sign of their intention； some munication from them。
As he watched； twin points of light glimmered from the tapering noses of each of the oning ships。 Keill clenched his teeth angrily。 It was all the sign he needed： he knew an ion…energy beam…gun when he saw one。
'They're firing；' he snapped into his municator。 'Amateurs … they're way out of range still。 Begin new course for evasive action。'
'Do we return fire ？' The voice from the municator was that of young Oni Wolda； Keill's next…in…mand and his closest friend in the Strike Group。 Her voice was calm； but with a faint note of eagerness that made Keill smile。
'No；' he said quickly。 'We're not here to fight。 Evasive action will take us far enough out for Overlight … that'll lose them。 Then we'll report back。'
Again he made his course corrections on the control panel。 Then he added； 'I'll d