J. Ellington Ashton Press
www.jellingtonashton.com
J. Ellington Ashton Press
and
SPELLBOOK STUDIOS PRESENTS:
Tales from
THE INFINITE BLACK
The Lost Legion:
Blood and Honor
By
D.A.
ROBERTS
The End is only
The Beginning
http://jellingtonashton.com/
Copyright
D.A. Roberts
©2019, D.A. Roberts
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book, including the cover and photos, may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. All rights reserved.
The Infinite Black® is a registered trademark of Spellbook Studio, LLC. ©2015 Spellbook Studio, LLC. Concepts, names, and places taken from The Infinite Black® universe are used with permission of Spellbook Studio, LLC. All rights reserved. All other trademarked and copyrighted references herein are the properties of their respective owners.
Any resemblance to persons, places living, or dead is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction.
Edited by: Andrew Bell
Cover Art by: Michael “Fish” Fisher
Layout and Formatting: D.A. Roberts
Table of contents
Organization
Chapter I -Planetfall
Chapter II - Order of Battle
Chapter III - Agamemnon
Chapter IV - The Orb
Chapter V - Consequences
Chapter VI - New Orders
Chapter VII - Dangerous Choices
Chapter VIII - Arrival
Chapter IX - Hadrian
Chapter X - Bloody Vengeance
Chapter XI - Aftermath
Chapter XII - Spatha
Chapter XIII - Counsel of Shadows
Chapter XIV - Pomp and Circumstance
Chapter XV - Rubicon
Chapter XVI - Order of Battle
Chapter XVII - Blockade
Chapter XVIII - Invictus
Chapter XIX - Unbroken
Organization of the Fabretti Interplanetary
Roman Legion
The legions of Fabretti Interplanetary were massively up-scaled from their historical counterparts. The historical legion was comprised of ten cohorts that totaled 6,000 men. While the nomenclature of the unit composition remained the same, the size of the actual legion grew to compensate for the scope of their targets. This was to facilitate one legion per Harvester Fleet.
Harvester Fleets were comprised of three waves. The first wave was the Vanguard or Scout Group. Four Cohorts were assigned to Vanguard duty. Wave two was the Hammer-Strike Teams which were tasked with conquering scouted planets. They consisted of twenty cohorts. The final wave was the remainder of the Legion that accompanied the Harvester Fleet. It consisted of thirty-six cohorts, twenty to be committed to direct assault with the remaining sixteen held as reserves.
Once the planet was secured, all Cohorts reassembled under one banner and returned to Fabretti Control for their next assignment.
Organization
A full-strength legion was officially made up of fifty cohorts, totaling 50,000 fighting men including officers.
The basic structure of the army is as follows:
Contubernium: (squad) consisted of 10 men commanded by an Optio.
Centuria: (century or platoon) was made up of 10 contubernium with a total of 100 men commanded by a Centurion.
Cohorts: (cohort or company) included 10 centuriae or a total of 1000 fighting men, not including officers. In addition, the First Cohort was double strength. Cohorts are commanded by Senior Centurions with the First Cohort being commanded by the Primus Pilus, who was the most senior Centurion on the Legion.
Legio: (Legion) consisted of 50 cohorts. 4 cohorts assigned to Vanguard duty, 20 to Hammer-Strike Teams and the remainder assigned to the Harvester Fleet. Overall Command of the Legion was the Legatus Legionis, but operational control on the ground was a Praefect. The Legatus Legionis rarely dropped with the legion, preferring to remain in overall command from the bridge of the lead carrier of the fleet.
Chapter I
Planetfall
"But man is not made for defeat.
A man can be destroyed but not defeated."
- Ernest Hemingway
Harvester Fleet Septimus Decius
High Orbit, Haakon Prime
"All dropships, standby to launch on my command!" bellowed Aurelius over the COMM channel. "All Cohorts prepare for orbital insertion!"
All around him, the bridge of the Agamemnon came to life as every station checked and re-checked their data to be ready for the invasion of Haakon Prime. One by one, they all chimed in with status reports.
"Communications ready!" called the Sub-Centurion at the communications console.
"Engineering ready!" chimed the intercom.
"Helm ready!" said Cassia.
"Open launch bay doors," Aurelius instructed.
"Confirmed," replied Cassia. "Launch bay doors are opening."
"Sub-Centurion Gratiana," snapped Aurelius.
"Yes, sir!" she called, turning back to glance at Aurelius.
"You are field promoted to Centurion," he said.
He knew that the Praetorian would honor the promotion, considering everything that Cassia had done since all of this began. His next order might not sit so well with the Praetorian, but the ground forces were Aurelius' to command. He was not a Fleet Officer and lacked the real training to command the entire fleet during landing operations. Commanding the Legion, however, was what he was born to do. The blood of the Legion flowed through his veins.
"Centurion Gratiana," added Aurelius with a smile. "You have command of the bridge."
"Sir?" she asked, clearly confused.
"I'm dropping with the Legion," he said, nodding gravely at her. "Do not forget your training. You have the Conn."
"Sir?" she asked again, warily.
"My place is with the Legion," he added, moving closer to her. "The fleet is yours."
For just a moment, worry flashed through her eyes. Aurelius could tell that it was not worry for the responsibility that she was accepting. It was concern for him going down to the planet. Then, as fast as it appeared, the confident professional returned.
"Strength and Honor," she said, with a salute.
It wasn't the crisp salute used by the fleet officers. It was the closed fist, arm across the chest salute of the Legionnaires. It was executed with perfect precision, just like a Legionnaire. Aurelius never wanted to kiss her more than he did at that moment.
"Strength and Honor," he replied, returning the salute and smiling despite himself.
Turning on his heel, Aurelius left the bridge at a quick pace. In moments, he entered the lift that would take him down to the flight deck. The lift-car seemed to take an eternity getting there. When the doors hissed open, Aurelius found an unexpected sight awaiting him. The Primus Pilus, Centurion Cassius Rufio Avilius, stood at crisp attention with the Centuria of the lead dropship lined up in two rows.
"Centuria!" shouted Avilius. "Honor your Praefect!"
As one, the entire formation slammed steel fists across armored chest-plates.
"Amat victoria curam!" bellowed the Legion in perfect unison.
"Amat victoria curam!" echoed Centurion Avilius.
&nbs
p; Aurelius was completely taken aback. He hadn't expected this kind of welcome. He was fully expecting to just slip onto the dropship and quietly assume command. His pride in his command grew as he felt the respect and confidence pouring from them. They were ready to fight and die by his side. It was now his duty to live up to that respect, even if it was with his dying breath. No, duty was not the right word. It was his honor to live and die with these warriors.
"Amat victoria curam,” he replied, returning the salute.
Immediately, two of the technicians hurried over and began helping Aurelius into his drop armor. The new Hastati armor went on much easier than the older Pilum systems. In a matter of minutes, Aurelius was sealed into his powered suit and locking the helmet into place. Once that was done, he activated the heads-up displays and the command frequency of the COMM systems. Indicator lights flashed in sequence as the frequencies synchronized and linked up.
"Board the dropship," he commanded, his metallic voice echoing softly through the speakers.
Turning in unison, the legionnaires began marching back onto the ship. The rhythmic metallic booming of their boots on the deck-plates was music to Aurelius’ ears. They came to a stop in front of their drop-chutes. The final motion was to slap armored fists against thigh plates as they returned to the position of attention.
"Centuria!" bellowed Avilius. "Prepare for drop-chute synchronization!"
As one, the legionnaires turned to face the center of the dropship. There was just one sound as they turned in perfect accord. Their discipline was a glory to behold.
"Lock!" called Avilius.
The unit responded perfectly, leaning back into their drop harnesses and allowing the systems to guide them into the launch cradles. With a series of audible clicks, the systems engaged and brought the entire formation into drop position. With a nod at his Praefect, Casca entered the ship first. He personally checked the displays of each suit of armor to be certain that all systems were operational and that they were green-lit for launch.
"All systems ready!" called Avilius, turning to face Aurelius.
Striding up the ramp, Aurelius paused only long enough to put a reassuring hand on the shoulder of a few of his men. Casca was waiting for him near the chutes that were designated for the Praefect and the Primus Pilus.
"One more thing," said Avilius, nodding.
He reached out and handed Aurelius his sword.
"We cannot drop without this, sir," he said, smiling through his visor.
"Indeed," replied Aurelius, accepting the sword gratefully.
Sliding the blade into his leg scabbard and locking it into place; he remembered the honor that had been bestowed on him by Legatus Cyprianus. This sword had belonged to his son, who had fallen in battle. He would win honor for both his own name and for the name of the fallen son of the Legatus.
"Thank you, Casca," said Aurelius.
"It has always been my honor," replied the veteran warrior.
With a nod of mutual respect, the two men turned and leaned back into the drop harnesses that would lock them into their drop-chutes. Aurelius could hear the hiss and hum of the servos that moved him into the chute and aligned him with the launch mechanism. Indicator lights flickered on, signifying he was locked and ready to drop.
After a quick system check, he engaged the communications systems. Switching to the command frequency, Aurelius activated his comm.
"Agamemnon control," he said, "this is Praefect Aurelius. The Legion stands ready to launch."
Cassia's voice filled the receptors in his helmet, making him smile at the familiar sound. For an instant, he could almost smell the sweetness of her breath and feel the softness of her lips against his. As pleasurable as those memories were, he forced them to the back of his mind to concentrate on the task at hand. His discipline would not allow him to spend too much time on personal matters when there was work to be done.
"Agamemnon control acknowledges," she replied. "You are clear to launch on your command."
Aurelius smiled. Despite being on the dropship, she was granting him the honor of giving the launch command to the fleet.
"All carriers," said Aurelius, "Status check."
One by one, the other nine carriers checked in and indicated that they were ready. With the Legion at full-strength, nearly thirty-six thousand Legionnaires were ready to invade Haakon Prime. The carriers were: Aegis, Phalanx, Gladius, Romulus, Remus, Pollux, Augustus, Ceres, Mars, with Agamemnon as the flagship. They were all ready.
"Dropships!" bellowed Aurelius. "Launch!"
Instantly, Aurelius felt the rush of acceleration as the dropship was magnetically propelled out of the launch tube. In the span of a few heartbeats, he felt the shudder that ran through the ship as they cleared the tube and entered open space. The powerful engines of the dropship roared through the hull-plates as they began to adjust their courses to bring them into launch position at the upper edge of the planet's atmosphere.
Aurelius listened to the COMM chatter as the Centurions and Sub-Centurions checked and re-checked the protocols, insuring that their Cohorts were ready to drop. Aurelius trusted the dropship pilots to bring them to their exact insertion coordinates, knowing that if they were wrong the entire invasion would have to be adjusted to reflect their new positions.
"We're approaching insertion coordinates," called the dropship pilot.
"Stand by for drop!" called Avilius.
"Planetary gravity is reading at point two above standard," the computer chimed into Aurelius' earpiece.
"All units adjust for slightly higher gravity," instructed Aurelius. "Increase servo and jump thrusters for 20 percent above normal."
Aurelius could hear his orders being distributed throughout the cohorts. He watched as his heads-up display kept him updated on the status of dropship positions throughout the fleet. One by one, they blinked from red to green, indicating that they were in position.
Aurelius felt the sensation of motion as the dropship rolled to starboard. From experience, he knew that this meant they were in position. The pilot was presenting the dorsal side of the ship to the planet, putting the drop-chutes in line with the atmosphere. The light in the bay went from normal lighting to green, indicating that they were clear to launch. Aurelius waited until all ships showed green before he gave the final launch command.
"All Cohorts," called Aurelius. "Drop!"
Immediately, he felt the impression of movement; as if he was being fired out of a magnetically propelled cannon. There was merely a split second before the launch bay vanished and they were in open space. Now only their armor separated them from cold, hard vacuum. Aurelius could see the stars twinkling in the vastness of space and the bright emerald glow of the planet beneath them. The moment just before they hit the atmosphere was always one he savored.
There was an instant of weightlessness before the planetary gravity-well caught and pulled them in. At first, it was bumpy as they bracketed their way through the upper atmosphere. A few seconds later, the ride smoothed out and they were accelerating towards the planet like armored meteors. The instruments on his heads-up display began giving him a steady read-out of the rapidly climbing exterior temperature of the armor as they freefell towards the planet below. Despite the built-in cooling systems, Aurelius felt himself beginning to sweat from the rising temperature of the armor.
Ablative layers of thermo-steel melted away as they were designed to do, keeping the integrity of the suits intact while they fell through the atmosphere. Layers one and two would burn away in the upper mesosphere while layers three through five would last through the middle. Had those layers not been in place, they would have simply burned up on re-entry. Secondary layers of electromagnetic shielding would keep the internal temperature from climbing too high and cooking them inside their suits.
The final layers would burn off as they streaked through the lower mesosphere. The deceleration jets would kick in once they hit the upper stratosphere. From there, they could control their ra
te of descent sufficiently that they only needed the shielding and the jets. The drogue chutes would deploy once they were low in the troposphere, slowing them enough to begin engaging targets on the ground.
Haakon Prime looked green, even from inside the atmosphere. Aurelius knew he had a few minutes to admire the view before the jets would begin slowing them down in preparation for reaching the surface. There were lush jungles and vast oceans that stretched out for miles below him. There were only scattered lights of cities, showing that the planet wasn’t heavily populated. Most of the planet remained pristine. All of that would be gone when the Harvester Fleet was finished.
Despite the innate beauty of the planet, Aurelius was more concerned with the placement of his cohorts and whether they would land on target. He was already doing mental adjustments for troop placement, just in case. The cohorts assigned to each carrier were targeting different sections of the planet. Agamemnon was tasked with taking the most densely populated section of the largest of the four continents. They would encounter the heaviest resistance of the entire legion.
In his mind, Aurelius began running through everything that they were told in their briefing about Haakon Prime. He remembered that they were an industrial planet, about the equivalent of Earth in the 19th Century. They would be no match for the Legion's armor. The smile froze on his lips when the thought suddenly occurred to him; the intelligence briefing was based on two-hundred-year old data. Their technology was undoubtedly far more advanced now.
"All units," he called, "adjust to threat level two. Confirm, threat level two."
As he listened to the orders being relayed throughout the fleet, he allowed himself a smile after all. This was going to be a much better fight than he had planned. The threat levels ranged from one to four. Level Four was used for uninhabited planets. Level Three was for low to medium threats. Level Two was for high chance of heavy resistance. Level One was reserved for situations where they knew they would encounter the Wyrd.
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