Two minutes later, he was standing beside the Legatus and the Praetorian as they watched the approach of Shuttle Furia. The hanger bay doors were open, and the rippling energy of the force field held back the harsh vacuum of space. Two cohorts of legionnaires were in their dress uniforms, lining up as an honor guard on either side of the carpet that led to where the shuttle would land.
“What’s in the cloak?” whispered Cyprianus, glancing towards Aurelius.
“I am going to present Centurion Gratiana with a sword for her performance during the crisis and again during the landing operations,” explained Aurelius.
“Excellent,” said Cyprianus, nodding his approval. “From all reports, she should receive a medal.”
“Agreed,” said Aurelius.
“As should you,” added the Praetorian. “Your leadership and tactics won this battle for us. I was told that the battle was going against us until you changed tactics and switched to sword and shield.”
A slight smile appeared at the corners of the young Praefect’s lips.
“The credit goes to the cohorts and centurions who carried out my commands so flawlessly,” replied Aurelius. “It was the discipline of the legion that won this battle.”
“That is true,” said Cyprianus. “Without the discipline of the legion, it would not have succeeded. However, do not underestimate your contribution, Marcus. Without a good commander, their discipline would have been in vain.”
Aurelius didn’t argue the point. He was pleased at how the legion had performed. For having so many untested recruits, they had performed flawlessly. As much as he would like to accept the credit for the victory, it was the legion that held the line. He was proud to command troops like them.
As the shuttle touched down on the exact spot that the flight path indicated, there was hardly a bump against the deck-plates. The pilot of the shuttle was excellent. Aurelius nodded his approval at them through the canopy windows which was returned by the young woman behind the controls.
“Honor Guard,” snapped Aurelius. “Intente![11]”
Instantly, the soldiers snapped in perfect unison, coming to crisp attention.
The door to the shuttle began hissing open, revealing the purple cloaks of two of the Praetorian Guards. They were hand selected from the best of the legion to form the personal bodyguards of high-ranking members of Fabretti Corporate hierarchy. They filed out, followed by four more Praetorian Guards. Even their dress armor was different than standard legionnaire ceremonial dress.
For one, the armor was highly glossed black with purple accents. All the trim was in purple, as was the hilts of their weapons. Although their weapons were ornate, they were fully functional. Even their side-arms were polished. Their visors were down, and it was difficult to see their eyes. Nonetheless, you could feel their gaze as they swept the entire area for any sign of threats.
Aurelius felt a pang of remorse as he watched them. His father had been promoted to the Praetorian Guards before they deployed on this mission. Seeing them was a grim reminder of all that they had lost in the sudden shift in time. His father would have been proud to hear of the battle they fought on Haakon Prime.
Next out of the door were three legionnaires. Although their armor was slightly different, denoting changes in uniform in the last two centuries, the style was the same. However, it was clear that these men were warriors. They had the bearing of soldiers and had campaign marks on their armor to prove it. Aurelius instantly felt the connection with them. Even across time, they were brothers.
Then, two senior fleet officers emerged, with Vice President Garibaldi behind them. From the uniforms, Aurelius could tell that they were the Praetorian and Legatus Legionis of the Felix Legion. Lastly came four more of the purple-clad Praetorian Guards. Aurelius made a quick mental note of the numbers. Although he was still new to formal arrivals of dignitaries, ten seemed excessive.
“I think Garibaldi doesn’t trust us,” whispered Cyprianus.
“It would so appear,” agreed Octavius, keeping his voice low.
“Good,” thought Aurelius. “It isn’t just me.”
Instinctively, Aurelius adjusted his stance so that his hand was a few centimeters closer to the hilt of his sword. He doubted that there was going to be a fight, but he wasn’t going to be caught off guard, either.
The ten members of the Praetorian Guards fanned out and took up observation positions throughout the area. Garibaldi strolled through the midst of the others like he was a conquering hero; his short purple cape billowing behind him as he crossed the hanger deck to stand before Praetorian Octavius.
“Welcome to Agamemnon, sir,” said Octavius, snapping a formal salute.
The salute was instantly echoed by every member of Aurelius’ guards, including Aurelius and Cyprianus.
“Strength and honor!” called the Honor Guard, in unison.
Garibaldi only half-heartedly returned the salute.
“Yes, yes,” he said, impatiently. “Let’s get on with it. I have little tolerance for your legion nonsense.”
Aurelius bristled, but didn’t say anything. He was tempted to turn that anger towards his entire group, but he saw the same anger in the eyes of the legionnaires that had accompanied Garibaldi out of the shuttle. The Praefect in charge flicked his eyes towards Garibaldi with contempt, and then glanced apologetically at Aurelius.
“Praetorian,” said Garibaldi. “Let us move this to your office so that we can speak of important matters. Bring the Legatus Legionis with you.”
“If you would come with me,” said Octavius, keeping his tone neutral.
Octavius led Garibaldi off towards the lift-car with Cyprianus following. Four of the Praetorian Guards fell into step behind them. The remainder of the Praetorian Guards remained with the shuttle.
“Praefect Aurelius,” said the other Praefect. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Praefect Fabianus Domitius Cicero. I would welcome the chance to speak with you.”
“Of course,” replied Aurelius. “I know just the place. One moment, please.”
Aurelius turned to the Honor Guard and snapped a quick command.
“Quiete[12]!” he shouted.
As one, the assembled legionnaires stood down.
“Fratres!” he called, glancing up and down the line. “Ab Signis Discedite[13]!”
As the Honor Guard broke formation and headed out of the hanger deck, Aurelius motioned for the visiting legionnaires to come with him. He noted that although the three legionnaires followed him out, the remaining Praetorian Guard made no move to follow.
“Interesting,” thought Aurelius.
Leading them down the corridor to the banquet area, Aurelius knew that it would be some time before Garibaldi and the others joined them. Clearly, Garibaldi had little love of the formalities and traditions of the legion. He couldn’t help but wonder if Garibaldi would come to the feast at all.
Awaiting them in the banquet hall in her dress uniform was Cassia. Aurelius nearly came to a halt when he saw her. With her hair braided and her dress uniform, she was a vision. The armored kilt fell to just above her knees and the leather boots accentuated the curves of her legs. He nearly forgot why he was there until he heard the men behind him come to a halt.
“Praefect Cicero,” began Aurelius. “This is Centurion Cassia Decima Gratiana. Our Fleet Control Officer.”
“Centurion,” acknowledged Cicero. “The two men with me are my Primus Pilus, Centurion Augustus Flavius Germanus, and Centurion Junius Marcellus Lucianus. We serve the Legio MMDLXXV Felix.”
“The Legio MMXIV Ferrata welcomes you,” replied Aurelius.
They all shook hands by embracing forearms, in the traditional manner. After introductions, all of them removed their helmets and placed them on the table. Although newer, the designs were clearly from the same original.
“On behalf of the Felix Legion,” said Cicero, “I would like to formally apologize for the way Garibaldi treated you and your people. It seems that Corporate Bu
reaucrats have lost their respect for the legion.”
“That is not good,” said Aurelius. “But no apology is required. Not from you or your men. Legionnaires would never speak that way to one another.”
“Good,” said Cicero. “We are all brothers and sisters here, then.”
“Agreed,” said Aurelius. “I had feared that the legion would have changed in our absence.”
“Oh, there have been many changes,” said Cicero. “Beginning with dropping the legion from orbit to conquer planets. That ended less than a decade after you vanished.”
“What?” asked Aurelius, clearly shocked.
“Fabretti found it was more cost-effective to use drones to mine the asteroid fields than to send in Harvester Fleets,” added Cicero. “The Wyrd made it too expensive. They kept destroying our fleets.”
“What does the Legion do, now?” asked Cassia, in disbelief.
“We guard space stations and maintain order on colony worlds,” explained Cicero. “The days of conquest are over.”
“That is very disturbing,” said Aurelius. “I do not believe that the legion would be reduced to this.”
“Believe it, my brother,” said Cicero. “It is all too true.”
“Then what are you doing here?” asked Aurelius.
“We are to take over security on Haakon Prime, so they can send you on another mission,” said Cicero. “I don’t know all of the details, but they need a legion that is trained in orbital insertion. We haven’t trained for that in generations; although many of us yearn for the days when the Legion conquered instead of guarded.”
“You should have been with us a few days ago,” said Cassia, smiling. “The Legio Ferrata dropped on Haakon Prime and the battle was glorious.”
“I wish we had been with you,” said Cicero, smiling.
“Would you like to see some of the combat footage?” asked Cassia. “I am certain that we have time.”
“That would be most welcome,” replied Cicero.
Cassia went to a data display terminal and brought up the satellite footage of the battle when they changed from energy weapons to shields and swords. The looks on the faces of the three legionnaires was pure awe.
“Magnificent!” said Cicero, when the footage ended. “That is what the legion was born for.”
“I would have given a year’s pay to have joined you in that battle,” said Germanus.
“As would I,” added Lucianus.
“Do you have any idea what our target is going to be?” asked Aurelius.
“I do not,” said Cicero, shaking his head. “Whatever it is, I would bet that it has something to do with the four colonies that have stopped reporting in. Relief efforts have also vanished.”
“Do they believe that it is another temporal vortex like the one we encountered?” asked Aurelius.
“No,” replied Cicero. “We have been hearing whispered rumors of a new race out near the edges of Grey Sector Nine. We know next to nothing about them other than their name. They are called the T’kri’t’ek.”
“T’kri’t’ek,” said Aurelius, over-emphasizing each syllable. “What do they look like?”
“Insectoid,” said Cicero, “we think.”
“Like the inhabitants of Haakon Prime?” asked Cassia.
“No,” replied Cicero. “Whatever they are, they have overwhelmed forces placed on all four colonies. They were all legionnaires. Even if caught unprepared, I cannot believe that they were annihilated without getting off so much as a distress call.”
“Perhaps the signal was jammed,” said Aurelius.
“That is what we are thinking, too,” said Cicero. “No matter how they are doing it, there has been no communication with any of the colonies in weeks.”
“And they believe that an orbital assault with your powered armor might change the outcome of another rescue mission,” said Lucianus.
“Your men do not use the armor?” asked Aurelius, incredulously.
“Not since the end of the Harvester Fleet Era,” answered Cicero. “Fabretti saw no need to continue investing in such heavy armor for the legion when we no longer take planets that way.”
“It seems that our return was at an opportune time,” said Aurelius, “at least for Fabretti.”
“I would gladly go with you,” offered Cicero. “All of us would.”
“If these T’kri’t’ek are as dangerous as you say,” replied Aurelius, “I would gladly have your help.”
“Perhaps Garibaldi will allow us to accompany you,” said Lucianus.
“Perhaps,” said Aurelius, frowning darkly. “Perhaps.”
They spent the next hour passing tales of battles fought and places that the legion had been. Despite not dropping into battle, Aurelius had to admit that the Felix Legion had seen its share of combat since the end of the Harvester Fleets. It was different now, but still glorious. They had engaged pirates, other corporations, and the Wyrd in defending Fabretti assets on many different worlds.
When Aurelius told of the battle of Haakon Prime, he could see the same look in their eyes as when his own father had told him tales of the ancient legion. To them, he was living history of the glory of the legion’s past. Aurelius was honored to share his tale with warriors who appreciated the glory of battle.
While the three legionnaires discussed what they had just heard, Aurelius took a moment to slip away with Cassia. He presented her with the bundle wrapped in his old cloak. From the weight, Cassia knew it had to be the promised sword.
“It’s heavier than I expected,” she said, slowly unwrapping the blade.
“I find the weight comforting,” replied Aurelius, smiling.
When she removed the blade, she let out a small gasp of surprise. This was no common Gladius. She could see the beautiful engraving and the family crest that was inlaid on the hilt and worked into the leather of the scabbard. This was Aurelius’ family blade. Undoubtedly it had been in his family for generations.
“I cannot carry this,” she said, emotion filling her voice.
“Yes, you can,” replied Aurelius. “You earned the right to carry a warrior’s blade.”
“But this is the blade of your fathers,” she said, not taking her eyes off the intricate workmanship.
“Yes,” he answered. “It has been in my family for centuries.”
“This blade is meant to be kept in your family,” she said, finally meeting his gaze.
“And it shall be,” he added, smiling. “If you will do me the honor.”
It took all her discipline and training not to burst into tears. Aurelius was proposing in the only way a legionnaire knew how. He wasn’t giving her jewelry. He was offering her something he valued beyond any gold or jewel. This blade was the physical embodiment of the honor of his family.
“Yes,” she whispered, smiling.
“When we are finished with the T’kri’t’ek,” said Aurelius, “we will begin preparations.”
When Garibaldi and the others arrived for dinner, Aurelius could see that Praetorian Octavius was not happy. They all took their seats at the dining table and awaited the serving of the meal. There was a tense silence and neither Octavius or Cyprianus would meet his gaze. Whatever Garibaldi had said to them, they were clearly not happy about it.
Once the meal had been laid out for them, they began to eat in a tense silence. Only the clink of utensils against the plates and the occasional clinking of glassware interrupted the stillness. Aurelius noticed that Garibaldi ate with the same lack of manners that fit his personality. He ate with slovenly abandon, stuffing food into his mouth like a beast. He didn’t even bother to wipe the grease from his chin.
For their parts, the legionnaires did their best to ignore him and pretend it wasn’t happening. Only Cassia seemed put off by his vulgar display, but she said nothing and avoided looking at him whenever possible. She kept shooting sly glances at Aurelius, smiling softly when she thought no one was looking.
When the dinner was finished, and the table ha
d been cleared, only then did Garibaldi lean back in his chair. After a thunderous belch, he wiped his mouth on the tablecloth. To Aurelius, this spoke volumes about Garibaldi. He had no respect for anyone or anything that he felt was beneath his station. That included all of them. Once all the serving staff had left the area, Garibaldi motioned to Praetorian Octavius.
“Go ahead and explain the mission to your underlings,” said Garibaldi.
Aurelius stiffened at the use of the word underling. It was demeaning to the hard work and honor of the legion. It was obvious that Garibaldi thought of them as nothing more than expendable pawns, to be used and tossed aside as he saw fit. Aurelius knew that this mission was going to be extremely dangerous, possibly even suicidal. He wasn’t going to let this man throw away the lives of his people. They would find a way to win and survive.
“To begin with,” Octavius started, “all Harvester Operations ships will remain at Haakon Prime while all military assets are reassigned.”
This part wasn’t a surprise. In fact, it was exactly what Aurelius had expected.
“We are to proceed with all speed to the Hadrian System,” continued Octavius. “The colony there stopped reporting in four weeks ago. There were eighty thousand civilians and over five thousand troops stationed there.”
“Which legion was it?” asked Aurelius.
“Five cohorts from the Legio MCMLXXVIII Aquitania,” answered the Praetorian from the Felix Legion. “Plus, their support units.”
Over eighty thousand people on the planet and no contact from the colony. Aurelius knew in the pit of his stomach that they were all dead. If anyone was left alive, they would have found a way to make contact.
“Our legion is to drop onto Hadrian III and retake the planet,” said Cyprianus. “We are to locate survivors and gather intelligence about this new enemy.”
“If we leave behind the Harvester Fleet,” began Aurelius, frowning, “will that not also reduce our amount of support services?”
“Indeed, it shall,” agreed Octavius. “We will have to make do without repair and construction facilities for our weapon systems. We will only be able to take the munitions that are on-board the carriers and cruisers. The freight carriers are to remain behind.”
Lost Legion- Blood and Honor Page 5