Legion Of The Damned - 06 - For Those Who Fell by William C. Dietz

REC,” and knew that the camo netting and the dusty tent that crouched beneath it were the property of his new company commander. It was tempting to stop in, but it seemed as though Kobbi was expecting him, which meant that it was best to continue on his way.
    Santana had passed the company HQ by, and had just drawn level with a field hospital, when a huge Hudathan stepped out of the shade produced by a land crawler. Like most members of his race he was about seven feet tall, weighed something like three hundred pounds, and had a humanoid head. His white kepi hid the half-inch dorsal fin that ran front to back along the top of the legionnaire’s skull, but not his funnel-shaped ears, and froglike mouth. His skin was white at the moment but would turn black if exposed to cold temperatures. In spite of the heat the Hudathan boasted auniform so crisp that it looked as if it had just been removed from a hanger. The big legionnaire wore the chevrons and rocker that denoted a gunnery sergeant. He pointed a sausage-sized finger at Santana, and said, “ You! Hold it right there.”
    That was when the cavalry officer realized that he had left his blue kepi back at battalion HQ—and that the overalls served to conceal the bars on his collar. He could have set the matter straight by revealing his identity, but there was something about the sergeant that bothered him. The feeling was reinforced when a human and a Naa drifted out of the shadows to stand behind the NCO. He paused. “Yes, gunny?”
    Gunnery Sergeant Hreemo Kuga-Ka was a natural-born predator, a vicious fighter, and a sadist. That was why he hadbeen discharged from the Hudathan army, and, having nowhere else to go, had joined the Legion. Then, relying on his skill as a warrior, native guile, and crude political skills, Kuga-Ka had risen to the rank of company sergeant—a lofty position from which he ruled with an iron hand. Now, having spotted what he assumed was a private, who had not only forgotten to put on his cover, but was dressed in sloppy overalls, the NCO was looking forward to exercising his power. The human was tall, but the Hudathan was taller, and that gave him the advantage. Kuga-Ka tried to place the soldier as he moved closer but drew a blank. “What outfit are you with?”
    â€œBravo Company, 2nd Battalion, 1st REC,” Santana answered truthfully. “And you?”
    The bland, clearly fearless reply served to infuriate the Hudathan, who clenched both of his ham-sized fists. His toadies grinned and waited for the show to begin. “I’ll tell you who I am, slimeball,” Kuga-Ka growled, “I’m your company sergeant, your new best friend, and your worst nightmare. I’m the one who’s going take you out of the box in the morning, run your ass all day, and put it back at night! Does that answer your fucking question?”
    â€œYeah,” Santana replied calmly, “it does. I look forward to hearing more about your motivational techniques in the future, but I’m kind of busy at the moment. If you see Captain Gaphy, please inform him that First Lieutenant Santana is dirtside, and on his way to meet with Colonel Kobbi.”
    The blow fell with such speed that it took Kuga-Ka a moment to absorb what had taken place. The Hudathan experienced a moment of genuine fear, since officers, especially strong ones, were a threat to his invisible empire. Still, lieutenants were a dime a dozen, and could usually be dealt with. The Hudathan came to attention. “Sorry, sir. The sergeant couldn’t see your rank, sir. It might be a good idea to wear a kepi, sir. What with the sun and all.”
    Santana nodded gravely. “I’ll keep that in mind, Sergeant. Dismissed.”
    Kuga-Ka wanted to say something more, wanted to find a way to gain the upper hand, but the dismissal made that impossible. The Hudathan offered his best salute, received one in return, and did a smart about-face. His