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 drop back into rear position and find out wh