The Price of Glory

Most people fell suddenly silent when Grayson walked past, but he had overheard enough to know that many were afraid the Legion would disband, and that many more thought it shoulddisband.

Maybe they're right,he thought.

Grayson had been raised to be a soldier, a Mech-Warrior, and so he was used to fighting. He was also used to being able to see his enemy, too. How did one fight a rumor, a lie? The story had been ru

Yet, if they disbanded, then what? A few of his people might be able to obtain passage offworld, but most would be stuck here forever. Not that Helm was such a bad place. In its cold, severe way, it was actually a beautiful planet. But it wasn't home. Not anymore. And even assuming that Marik left them alone, what could ex-mercenaries do for a living?

Even if the Legion did disband, how many of them would be able to make it offworld ... or strike bargains with new employers? More to the point, how many would escape the Marik nets? If Marik had gone to this much trouble to crush the regiment, they were not going to be content with the mere dissolution of the unit. From the look of things, they were bent on a

Grayson stopped just then, letting his gaze travel around the encampment, watching as men and women cleaned their weapons, prepared food over low fires, worked or talked or simply rested in their tents.

There had to be something they could do!

The biggest question was whether there was enough of the regiment left to do it.

* * *

"We are notdisbanding."

The men and women of the Gray Death Legion were drawn up in ranks under the trees along the Araga River. The Aragayan Mountains, tipped in gold and ice, crested to the north against a chill sky of blue crystal.

The Legion stood silent as Grayson addressed them from the open dorsal hatch of his Marauder,using the Marauder's,external speakers as amplifiers to carry his words throughout the crowd. All eyes, from those of Clay, Sharyl, Bear, and the other MechWarriors to those of the older children of the astech families whose homes had been torched in Durandel, were fixed on him; every member of the Legion stood waiting, expectant, and very still.

"I've heard all the arguments," Grayson went on. "We could disband, and go to ground. We could live here as farmers, as machinery techs and factory laborers, until the Marik troops go away. Maybe someday a few of us could hope to buy passage to Galatea, or some other mercenary hiring center, and join new regiments. But we're not going to go that way, people. And I'm going to tell you why.

"Disbanding the Legion is not the answer . . . not the answer that will help every man and woman in the unit. If we go to ground, maybe . . . maybea few people will put together enough C-Bills in a few years to buy passage offworld . . . but where will that leave everybody else?Can anyof you plan to work toward getting offworld, when you know that nine out of every ten . . . that ninety-nine out of every hundredof your comrades are going to be stranded here on Helm for the rest of their lives?

"And the Marik troops aren't going to be satisfied if they pick up just a handful of us. I would ... I would ..." He paused, momentarily unable to continue. He was no longer trying only to rally his people. These words came from the core of his own heart and will.

When Grayson found his voice again, it was quiet with certainty. "I would turn myself in to Colonel Langsdorf this afternoon if I thought that act would set the rest of you free. But they aren't going to leave it at that. They've convinced the I

"And even if we could get offworld, past the Marik troops, out of Marik space . . . could we live out there among the stars with the reputation they've branded on us. We are the Legion.Our name, our reputation . . . those are as much a part of who we are as our eyes and hands. If we lose that, as a unit or as individuals, we are crippled!”

He paused again, searching among the faces below him. From the altitude of a Marauder'scockpit, it was hard to read individual expressions. What he could see was Lori almost directly below and in front of him, and she was smiling. McCall was next to her, gri

"I am not ordering you to stay," Grayson continued. "Any of you, anyof you who want to can go, with no restraint and no bad feelings. As long as Langsdorf has some kind of unified force to chase after, he'll probably leave you alone. Perhaps you can eventually pick up your lives offworld. Perhaps you can find a home for yourself, here. Helm is a good world ... a place for a good life. If that is your choice, I sincerely wish you well.

"But the regiment will not disband!The regimentwill prepare to break camp and move out. Tonight!" Grayson's gaze swept the ranks again. No one moved or spoke. The only sound was the rustle of wind among the leaves of the trees.

"I need volunteers for a special mission tonight, one that will give the rest of the unit a chance to get away. If you're interested, speak with your team leaders. The rest of you . . . you who are staying, pack your things and prepare to move at dark." He paused and swept the group with his eyes once more.

"That is all."

Normally, it would have been up to Ramage to take his cue from Grayson by smartly swinging about-face to give the order to dismiss. With Ramage still unconscious, Grayson did it himself.

" Reg'ment. . . dis . . . MISS!"

There was no movement among the ranks. Not a man or a woman moved in all those ranks upon ranks.

Somewhere, off to Grayson's left, a thin, reedy voice rose in song, trembling, though whether in fear or emotion, Grayson couldn't tell.

Home is the Regiment, across the sea of stars . . .Another voice, a deep bass picked up the tune.

On worlds hot, on worlds cold,

where Warriors tread afar.

Though place of birth and family,

though loved ones all be lost,

Home is the Regiment, across the sea of stars.

Then they were all singing it, the entire regiment together, the song buoyed by a surge of emotion that swelled and rose, sweeping the Legion forward, together.

Home is the Regiment, though warriors travel far.

They ca