Lost Legion- Blood and Honor

by D. A. Roberts

  With that, the Praetorian walked out and left them all there in stunned silence.

  “You are Legatus Legionis,” said Cassia, her voice full of pride. “The youngest in the history of the Legion. How many have won the Legion of Honor twice?”

  “But at a terrible cost,” said Aurelius, shaking his head. “We have lost a great man. Cyprianus was like a father to me.”

  Cassia nodded in sympathy. She knew that they had been close.

  “Who are you planning to promote?” she asked, changing the subject.

  “I have several in mind,” replied Aurelius. “I will tell you all about it, later. I think I would like to rest now.”

  “I understand,” she said, leaning down and kissing him gently on the forehead.

  Aurelius leaned back onto the pillow and closed his eyes. From the wrinkling of his brow, Cassia knew that he was not going to sleep. He was lost in his own thoughts. Undoubtedly, he was worried about his legion and all that they had lost. She knew it was best to leave him be and let him sort things out. He would call if he needed her.

  “Get some rest,” she said, and headed out the door.

  Aurelius was barely aware of her parting words. He was already reliving every detail of the battle, searching for anything that he could have done that might have saved Cyprianus. He always had his sights set on making Legatus, but not at the expense of losing Cyprianus.

  “Rest is exactly what you need,” said the doctor, as he leaned down and gave Aurelius a shot that would help him sleep. “Rest well, warrior. You’ve earned it.”

  Aurelius faded off into a dreamless sleep. He was grateful for the release from his thoughts, even if only for a while. All that had happened was weighing heavily on him and he took the losses to the legion personally; especially the loss of Cyprianus. The veteran warrior had died saving his life. He intended to see to it that Cyprianus also received the Legion of Honor. Despite all of that, he slept.

  **********

  When Aurelius awoke, the pain in his shoulder was nearly gone. The nausea had passed completely, and he felt stronger than he had the last time he awoke.

  “Ah, Marcus,” said Octavius, smiling from his chair at the end of his bed. “I am glad you are awake. I told Centurion Gratiana to get some rest. I assured her that I would sit with you in her absence.”

  “Thank you, sir,” replied Aurelius, sitting up without much pain or effort.

  Octavius only cocked his head to the side and frowned at him.

  “Of course,” corrected Aurelius. “Claudius.”

  “That’s better,” said Octavius, smiling. “It will take some time for you to get used to calling me that. Especially around others.”

  “I would not presume to use your first name in front of the troops,” began Aurelius.

  “Of course, not,” answered Octavius. “Neither would I. It is simply not how it is done. However, in the company of senior officers, it is not only encouraged but expected.”

  “Yet you used my first name in front of Cassia,” said Aurelius. “She is a Centurion. Is that considered a Senior Officer?”

  “Not normally,” replied Octavius. “Under most circumstances, I would say Praefect or above. However, she is a different case. Not only because she is your intended, but there are other factors, as well.”

  “What other factors?” asked Aurelius.

  “I was not going to reveal this until the ceremony,” admitted Octavius, “but I intend to promote her, as well. She has done outstanding work since all of this began. Not to mention, everything she did at Haakon Prime.”

  “Promotion?” said Aurelius, frowning. “To what?”

  “I intend to make her my First Officer,” replied Octavius. “That would make her a Praefect, assigned to the fleet.”

  “That is quite an honor,” said Aurelius. “She will be pleased.”

  “Do not tell her before the ceremony,” said Octavius. “I would not want to miss her look of surprise.”

  “Of course, sir…Claudius,” replied Aurelius, catching himself.

  “There is another matter that we must discuss while we have time alone,” said Octavius, his tone growing colder.

  “Is something wrong?” asked Aurelius, suddenly worried.

  “Indeed, there is,” replied Octavius. “It concerns Fabretti Control and Vice President Garibaldi, in particular.”

  Aurelius’ face darkened at the mention of the officious Garibaldi.

  “That man is a toad,” said Aurelius. “He knows nothing of honor or respect.”

  “I would agree,” answered Octavius, “however, that would be an insult to toads. I have greater regard for the T’kri’t’ek than I do for Garibaldi.”

  “Sir,” said Aurelius, looking worried. “Corporate Security could be listening to our conversation.”

  “I have already taken precautions,” replied Octavius, patting a small device on the table next to him. “They are completely unaware of our conversation.”

  “What is it that you wish to discuss?” asked Aurelius.

  “I had a chance to speak with Praetorian Quintillus of the Legio Felix,” said Octavius, leaning closer, conspiratorially. “He revealed something to me that you deserve to know. Quintillus did not mention it to me before, because he was certain that it would not do any good.”

  “What is it?” asked Aurelius.

  “Fabretti knew that there were no survivors on Hadrian,” explained Octavius. “Garibaldi had other reasons to send us here.”

  “What else could they be?” said Aurelius, anger rising in his voice.

  “Haakon Prime has become a political embarrassment for Fabretti,” explained Octavius. “Since the planet was already taken, they are exploiting the resources but Fabretti must pay fines for violating the terms of the agreement that they had with Rensaka over the mineral rights. It will be expensive for them, but they will still make money. However, an entire legion and fleet from two hundred years ago, is a liability.”

  “How so?” asked Aurelius, anger continuing to rise.

  “The ships are so behind in technology, Fabretti considers them worthless,” began Octavius. “The legion is another matter. Your training and loyalties are very different than modern legionnaires. The corporation cannot count on your obedience to new methods and it would prove too costly to retrain everyone. That left Fabretti with nearly thirty thousand men that they had no use for.”

  “No use for us?” repeated Aurelius, his voice cold with rage. “Then why did they send us here?”

  “They sent us here to die,” answered Octavius, shaking his head. “They had no intention for us to win. They expected the T’kri’t’ek to take care of a liability for them.”

  “What of the Felix Legion?” demanded Aurelius. “Did they know or were they sent here to die, as well.”

  “They did not know,” explained Aurelius. “They put Garibaldi in a tight spot when they asked to go along with us. He wasn’t expecting that. He had built the T’kri’t’ek up so much that it would not make sense for him to say no.”

  “So, what were the orders of the Felix Legion?” asked Aurelius. “Were they different than ours?”

  “Yes, they were,” explained Octavius. “They were to wait for us to be destroyed and not engage the T’kri’t’ek. Then Garibaldi had given orders to Quintillus to destroy our ships in orbit.”

  “What!?” snarled Aurelius, wincing in pain as he tried to stand up.

  “They did not expect you to destroy the queen and give the remainder of the legion the chance to win the battle,” added Octavius. “They joined the battle and helped us finish off the T’kri’t’ek. If they had not, it would have aroused suspicion. Besides that, the legion would have mutinied against the orders. They were unaware of the duplicity of Garibaldi. They believed that they were here to fight.”

  “Then I cannot be angry at the Felix Legion,” said Aurelius, holding his side. “They were pawns in this, as much as we were.”

  “Only Quintillus knew of
their orders from Garibaldi,” added Octavius. “I do not believe that he would have carried through with them, even if you had lost the battle.”

  “They sent us here to die,” said Aurelius, still fuming.

  “Indeed,” replied Octavius.

  “Do we have any proof of Garibaldi’s duplicity in this?” asked Aurelius.

  “No, we do not,” answered Octavius. “However, there will be one way to be certain.”

  “How is that?” said Aurelius, turning to face the Praetorian.

  “He will be here for the ceremony,” explained Octavius. “He is also bringing at least four legions with him.”

  “Why so many?” asked Aurelius incredulously.

  “I do not know,” answered Octavius. “I doubt that it is to pay their respects.”

  “How will we prove his deception?” said Aurelius.

  “He will be presenting your awards,” explained Octavius. “If what we believe is true, he will tell you that our next assignment is to clear another colony of the T’kri’t’ek.”

  “Why would he expect us to lose this time?” asked Aurelius.

  “Because this time,” said Octavius, “it will be to a planet with a much larger colony. That would mean that the T’kri’t’ek would have a larger food supply.”

  “And therefore, much larger numbers of eggs that could hatch,” finished Aurelius.

  “Yes,” agreed Octavius. “Our next target would make this one look like a milk run. Even if we found a way to win, he would keep throwing us at them until we were all dead.”

  “Then we should not give him that opportunity,” said Aurelius, acidly.

  “What do you have in mind, Marcus?” asked Octavius.

  “I wonder how the other legions would feel to hear that he intended to sacrifice us and many of them,” said Aurelius, darkly. “That he placed such low value on our lives, he was willing to sacrifice two legions just to be rid of us.”

  “I sincerely doubt that they would react well,” replied Octavius. “Garibaldi might find himself in a very dangerous position.”

  “Then it is my duty to put him there,” said Aurelius, standing up and stretching.

  “Are you certain that you are ready to get out of bed?” asked Octavius.

  “I no longer have the luxury of remaining in bed,” explained Aurelius. “Pain or no pain, I have a great deal of work to do before he arrives. I shall begin with having a conversation with Praefect Cicero.”

  With that, Aurelius took the folded clothes off the bedside table and began getting dressed. Octavius turned off the security device and slipped out the door while Aurelius finished putting on his boots. Without another word, Aurelius slipped out of Medical Quarters and headed towards his own. Despite walking slowly and with a heavy limp, the purpose and determination showed through in the way he carried himself. It was time to begin preparations for the arrival of a traitor.

  Chapter XII

  Spatha

  “The dance of battle is always played to the same

  impatient rhythm. What begins in a surge of violent

  motion is always reduced to the perfectly still.”

  - Sun Tzu

  Two days had passed before Garibaldi arrived with a massive fleet. Both Octavius and Aurelius were on the bridge when the fleet came out of slipstream and entered the Hadrian System. It took nearly three minutes before all the ships of the fleet dropped out of slipstream and slid into formation as they approached Hadrian III.

  Aurelius marveled at the size of the lead vessel. It bristled with weapons systems and he counted at least six launch bays for fighters. This massive ship was clearly built for war. It had sleek lines for a shift of its size. Undoubtedly, it was fast especially considering the size of the enormous engines that blazed with blue-fire. By comparison, Agamemnon seemed like a mere escort ship instead of one of the largest carriers built in its day.

  “Hail the lead vessel,” instructed Octavius.

  “Hailing the Neptune,” replied the communications officer.

  Aurelius moved to stand directly behind the Praetorian. It was a subtle gesture, but one he wanted to make perfectly clear. No matter what, he stood with his fleet and his legion.

  “On main screen,” said the communications officer.

  Cassia glanced up quickly from the helm station and briefly met Aurelius’ eyes. There was real fear there. She was not expecting Garibaldi to show up with such a massive fleet. Although Aurelius had not told her any of the conversation that he had with Octavius, she was beginning to suspect that there was more going on here than she was aware. Especially since everyone seemed to be on edge about the arrival of Garibaldi.

  The screen flickered to life and the image of Garibaldi seated in a large command chair flanked by the Praetorian of the fleet and the Legatus Legionis of another legion. He was not standing close enough for them to make out the crest and identify the legion that he represented. Neither the Praetorian nor the Legatus looked pleased to be standing there. Aurelius hoped that the look of thinly veiled contempt on their faces was for Garibaldi instead of him.

  “Vice President,” began Octavius, forcing a smile. “What do we owe the honor of yourself and such a large contingent of ships?”

  “I am here to personally congratulate you on your victory,” said Garibaldi.

  Everyone in the room instantly knew that was a lie from his tone and body language. From the way he acted, it galled him to have to say those words.

  “And the fleet?” asked Aurelius, impatiently.

  “With the T’kri’t’ek proving to be such a dangerous foe,” lied Garibaldi, “Fabretti has deemed it necessary to increase our presence in this sector. We intend to be ready for their next incursion into our territory.”

  Aurelius didn’t believe anything that Garibaldi was saying. From his demeanor, he was clearly hiding something. The truth was more likely that he brought the fleet to use against them.

  “All the more ships to destroy us with,” thought Aurelius, careful to not let it show on his face.

  “We are committing six legions to the defense of this area of space,” added Garibaldi.

  “Six?” said Octavius. “Clearly, Fabretti is serious about defending this place.”

  “We will not allow the T’kri’t’ek to take more of our resources,” explained Garibaldi.

  Aurelius noted that he did not say, “To protect the lives of the people of our colonies.”

  “Before they begin their patrol assignments,” said Garibaldi, “they wish to pay their respects at the burial ceremony for the dead and the awards ceremony for the living.”

  “It would be an honor to see so many legions gathered and in formation,” said Octavius. “There has not been a gathering of so many legions in centuries.”

  “The circumstances are unique,” said Garibaldi. “Fabretti wants to make certain that everyone gets the rewards that they are due.”

  Both Aurelius and Octavius knew that was a veiled threat. Garibaldi was not subtle, especially when he fully believed that they had no idea what he meant by that. Aurelius began to fear that so many legions assembled would be with orders to wipe them out on the planet while the fleet took care of the remnants of Harvester Fleet Septimus Decius. Aurelius had no intention of walking into his trap. He had something very different in mind for Garibaldi.

  “When can we expect you aboard Agamemnon?” asked Octavius.

  “I will not be coming aboard the Agamemnon,” replied Garibaldi. “I will speak with you both on the planet before tomorrow’s ceremonies.”

  “I look forward to that,” said Octavius, smiling.

  “As do I,” answered Garibaldi, smiling thinly. “As do I.”

  With that, the screen went dark, to be replaced by the space-view of the assembled fleet. Aurelius couldn’t shake the uneasiness of seeing that many ships lined up in formation. Especially when their intentions were not clear. Nothing was clear with Garibaldi in the equation. The blatant disregard that he held for the le
gion spoke volumes about what he might do. Something had to be done about the way Fabretti treated the multitude.

  “I do not trust his intentions,” said Aurelius.

  “Be careful, Marcus,” said Octavius, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling.

  “Of course,” replied Aurelius, glancing around nervously.

  Aurelius started to turn away from the command chair when he lurched to the side and grabbed for the railing. He barely managed to get a grip on it before he fell flat, but still had to drop to one knee to avoid falling. Cassia was up from her console in an instant and moving towards him. Aurelius stopped her with an upheld hand.

  “I am alright,” he said weakly.

  “Perhaps you are not yet ready for this, Marcus,” said Octavius, turning in his chair.

  “Whether I am or not is irrelevant,” said Aurelius, getting slowly to his feet. “Garibaldi is here. What choice do I have? I will not miss the ceremonies. I will honor my legion and their sacrifices.”

  “And then what, Marcus?” asked Octavius, shaking his head. “What will you do then?”

  “That will all depend on Garibaldi,” replied Aurelius, darkly.

  Aurelius headed for the lift, moving slow and unsteady while gripping consoles for support. He managed to get into the lift-car without falling, all the while every eye on the bridge was on him. Keeping his back straight and his head high, he turned and nodded at the bridge crew. When the door to the lift slid shut leaving him alone, he leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes. The pain was etched heavily on his young face and heavy beads of perspiration ran down his brow.

  “Ancestors,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Grant me your strength and the wisdom to see this through to the end.”

  When the lift-car stopped on the administration level, Aurelius forced himself to walk upright and headed for his office. After a moment, he realized that he was heading for his old office. Shifting his course, he turned for the office of the Legatus Legionis. Although Aurelius still felt that it rightfully belonged to Cyprianus, he knew that what he was seeking would be in there.