“This is Vice-President Garibaldi,” he said without preamble. “I’m in charge of Mining Operations for Fabretti Interplanetary.”
“Mister Vice President,” replied Cassia, formally.
“From our records, I was given to understand that Praetorian Octavius was in command,” said Garibaldi with a look of mild annoyance on his face.
“He is, Mister Vice President,” answered Cassia. “He is currently in Medical Quarters for an injury he sustained during the temporal event that brought us here.”
“I take it that you are in command, then?” he said, condescension dripping from his voice.
“I am Centurion Cassia Decima Gratiana,” she said defiantly. “I am the ranking officer on the Agamemnon, at the moment.”
“Where is Legatus Cyprianus or Praefect Aurelius?” demanded Garibaldi, glancing down at a computer screen to find the names.
“The Legatus was also injured during the event,” explained Cassia. “Praefect Aurelius is on Haakon Prime.”
“What?!” demanded Garibaldi. “You were ordered to stand by.”
“We were not given an abort command,” replied Cassia. “We were standing by for addition communications, but our orders to take Haakon Prime were still in effect.”
“Is the legion attacking the planet?” snarled Garibaldi, the color draining out of his face.
“No sir,” replied Cassia.
“That’s good,” said Garibaldi with an audible sigh. “That’s excellent.”
“The battle is already won,” said Cassia, almost smiling when the color vanished entirely from the face of the smug bureaucrat before her. “Landing operations were a success. Praefect Aurelius led the Iron Legion to victory.”
The Vice President looked like he was about to have a heart attack. His mouth opened and closed several times and he seemed to be having difficulty breathing. Reaching to his left, he picked up a crystal tumbler and filled it with an expensive looking amber liquid. Taking a long drink to steady his nerves, he closed his eyes for a moment to regain his composure.
“You mean to tell me that the legion took an entire planet in less than forty-eight hours?” said Garibaldi, his voice low and menacing.
“No sir,” replied Cassia. “It’s only been sixteen hours of fighting, since the first cohort dropped into the upper atmosphere. The major battles are complete. Only mopping up the last pockets of resistance remains unfinished.”
“How is that possible?” demanded Garibaldi.
“That is what the legion was born for, sir,” she replied, smiling. “The Legionnaires have been preparing for this type of battle their entire lives.”
Garibaldi stood frozen in mute shock, digesting the information that he had just been given. Cassia could tell that he was upset and was struggling with a decision. Clearly, the news that the legion had already taken the planet did not fit in with whatever orders he had been given concerning Haakon Prime. Fabretti Control must not have wanted them to continue with harvesting operations, but now was unsure how to proceed.
“Did the locals get a distress call out?” said Garibaldi softly, not quite looking at Cassia.
“Idiot,” she thought. “Didn’t this imbecile know that the first thing the Harvester Fleets did was to block all planetary communications as soon as they entered orbit?”
After a long pause, Garibaldi looked directly at her and his brow furrowed in anger.
“Well?” he demanded.
“Negative, sir,” she replied, barely managing to mask her distaste for this bureaucrat.
“Are you certain?” he asked, his tone taking on a dangerous edge.
Cassia glanced towards the Communications console and nodded.
“Confirmed,” chimed the communications officer. “All planetary signals were blocked as soon as we entered orbit. Relay communication modules show no record of any signal leaving the planet before or after our arrival.”
“Excellent,” said Garibaldi. “Refresh my memory, Centurion. What mineral deposit was Haakon highest in?”
Cassia had to remind herself that it had been over two hundred years for Fabretti Control since Harvester Fleet Septimus Decius vanished without a trace. For the crew of the Agamemnon, however, it had only been a matter of days. To make matters worse, it seemed that they had all but been forgotten entirely.
“Iridium ore,” she replied, keeping her tone neutral.
She could see the proverbial wheels begin to turn behind Garibaldi’s eyes. She realized that he had to be weighing his options on how to proceed. Cassia was a career fleet officer, but her father had been a Proconsul. That had given her plenty of practice in dealing with the political side of the fleet. It was clear that Garibaldi was playing for time, running the political angles in his mind. Fabretti Corporate Control may not even be aware that the fleet had returned, much less taken Haakon Prime.
When the decision was made in his eyes, Cassia suddenly had a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. When the predatory smile appeared on Garibaldi’s lips, she knew that whatever decision had been made was likely going to be bad for the legion. A lump formed in her throat and she suddenly found that she couldn’t form words.
“For now,” he began, “commence harvesting operations. I will be dispatching control elements to oversee the harvesting.”
Cassia swallowed hard and felt the moisture in her mouth vanish. Although it took some effort, she managed to form a response.
“And then?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“Centurion,” he said, smugly, “believe it or not, but technology has advanced somewhat in your absence. Once the control elements arrive, control of Haakon Prime will be turned over to them. At that time, you will receive your new orders.”
“Yes sir,” she said, a bit more forcefully than she had intended.
“I will contact you with your new orders,” he said, ignoring her tone. “Do not contact Fabretti Control until then, understood?”
“Understood, sir,” she said.
She might have said “sir” but that wasn’t what she meant and everyone on the bridge knew it.
“When I contact you again,” he said, his voice soaked with disdain, “make certain that I’m talking with someone with some actual rank. I don’t care if you must drag the Praetorian out of medical. I’m tired of dealing with junior officers.”
Before Cassia could respond, the screen went dark. Seconds later, the screen returned to the view of the star field and the planet below them. Cassia could feel the heat rush through her face and into her ears. She nearly shook with rage at the insult that she had just been given in front of the command crew.
No one on the bridge spoke. No one turned to face the young Centurion, not wanting to meet her gaze. Cassia didn’t know that the embarrassment she felt was only part of it. The entire crew shared in her rage. The insult was directed at her but was felt by them all. Any respect Garibaldi might have had with them was now gone. It was now replaced with a cold, hard bitterness and contempt for the pugnacious bureaucrat.
“The Gods forgive,” she whispered.
She could almost hear Aurelius’ voice in her mind. She knew exactly how he would reply to that statement.
“The Legion does not.”
Chapter VI
New Orders
“Live as brave men; and if fortune is adverse,
front its blows with brave hearts.”
- Marcus Tullius Cicero
In less than seventy-two hours, the Fabretti Control fleet arrived in orbit. It was comprised of light cruisers and support vessels for the mining operations. They also brought with them their own contingent of Legionnaires. The ship that carried them bore the standard of the Felix Legion, Legio MMDLXXV Felix. A Lion emblazoned on the hull with the numerals engraved in the golden collar around its neck.
Aurelius was on the bridge of Agamemnon when the fleet entered orbit. Only a few cohorts remained behind on Haakon Prime under the command of Casca, the Primus Pilus. The fighting had end
ed after forty-eight hours of combat. The cohorts now acted as security for mining operations. The bulk of the Legion had returned to their ships.
Standing beside Aurelius was the Legatus Cyprianus. In the command chair was Praetorian Octavius. Although he was still a little worse for wear, the seasoned commander refused to remain inactive. Cassia was sitting at the helm controls. Aurelius noted with pride that she still wore the rank of full Centurion. The Praetorian had honored the promotion.
“Sir,” stated the officer at sensor control, “Fabretti Fleet has secured from slipstream. All ships showing green lights.”
“Nice to see that their engines work just fine,” whispered the Legatus.
Aurelius had to suppress the chuckle, barely keeping it to an amused smile.
“We are being hailed by the Command Cruiser Fortuna,” added the communications officer.
“Put them on the main viewer,” replied the Praetorian.
Instantly, the view of the planet was replaced with the image of a much larger bridge. This one was richly appointed with paneling that appeared to be made of real wood. The officers were wearing a very different uniform from the ones worn on the Agamemnon. Clearly, there had been a lot of changes in the last two hundred years. Sitting in the command chair was none other than Vice President Garibaldi, himself. Complete with smug smile.
“This is new,” mused the Legatus. “In my day, the corporate officials never left their stations.”
“I think that a great deal has changed in our absence,” replied Aurelius.
Before either of them could speak again, the Praetorian spoke to the screen.
“Harvester Fleet Septimus Decius is at your command, Vice President,” said Octavius.
“Good,” answered Garibaldi, glancing at Cassia. “It is good to see that my orders were followed.”
Aurelius bristled at the implied insult. He’d already heard the full story from Cassia. Despite the damage it would do to his career, he desperately wanted to punch the smug bureaucrat right in his aristocratic nose.
“I will be coming over to the Agamemnon with my Fleet Commander and the Legion Praefect under my command,” explained Garibaldi. “My shuttle will be ready within the hour. Prepare your people to debrief and transfer command to us. I have new orders for your Legion.”
“Sir?” said Octavius, confused. “We achieved our objective. Is it not our responsibility to see the harvesting operations to completion?”
“The Felix Legion will take over here,” explained Garibaldi. “I have something else in mind for you. I will explain when I arrive. Until then, save your questions. All will be revealed in due time.”
With that, the screen went dark. Aurelius stiffened and bit his lip. This type of churlish behavior from an official was never allowed in their day. The legion was spoken to with respect, not derision. It seems that not all the changes in this time were for the better.
“That could have gone better,” said Octavius, leaning back in his seat.
“Agreed,” said Cyprianus. “It seems that manners and respect are very different, now.”
“I think you mean missing,” replied Octavius. “I think it is a lost concept.”
“Let us hope not,” said Cyprianus.
“Orders, Praetorian?” asked Aurelius.
“Oh, Marcus,” said Octavius, as if he had forgotten the younger man was there. “Do not allow this behavior to influence your duty. We are still sworn to the band.”
“I understand, sir,” replied Aurelius.
“Of course, you do,” said the Legatus. “You were born in the Legion. You will die before you break that vow.”
“Take Centurion Gratiana and begin preparations for the arrival of our guests,” said Octavius, nodding at Aurelius.
Cassia stood and followed Aurelius into the lift-car. Once the doors had closed, she turned to face him.
“Do you think they know about us?” she asked with a note of concern in her voice.
“Perhaps,” replied Aurelius. “Perhaps not. Propriety be damned. There is no one left for me to ask for your hand. Our actions are our own, now.”
“Agreed,” she said, smiling. “I have been tired of pretending for some time, anyway. It will be good to openly acknowledge our relationship.”
Aurelius frowned and furrowed his brow.
“Is that a problem?” asked Cassia, worry in her eyes.
“Not at all,” said Aurelius. “I wanted to win the Legion of Honor to present to you at our wedding. I fear that this will be impossible in this time. It seems that honor is a forgotten notion.”
“Not by you,” answered Cassia. “Not by anyone in the Legion.”
“I fear for the state of the legions of this day,” said Aurelius. “I fear that they too have strayed from the paths of honor, as have the corporate officers.”
“The corporations never had honor or respect for us,” said Cassia. “My father hosted dinners at our estate on Gaius IV. They may have spoken with more respectful tones, but they were always concerned about profit, not people.”
“Perhaps,” said Aurelius. “I do not have your experience with them, but I still fear for what we are about to learn.”
“We should all be concerned,” agreed Cassia. “When a corporate vice president comes personally, it is never good news.”
“I will go to the barracks and assemble an honor guard for their arrival,” said Aurelius. “You go instruct the cooks to prepare a welcome dinner for our distinguished guests.”
Cassia nodded as the lift-car came to a stop on deck fifteen. The smell of the cafeteria filled her nostrils as the doors swished open. As she stepped towards the door, Aurelius brushed his hand against hers. It was the biggest display of affection he could risk in public; at least until he had the opportunity to formalize their relationship.
Before she had the chance to glance back, the doors had already whispered shut and sped Aurelius on towards his destination. She couldn’t help but feel a twang of regret that he was gone. Something about this entire situation was making her very nervous. She didn’t trust Vice President Garibaldi and doubted that whatever he had in store for them was going to be good. She also knew that whatever the assignment, it was the duty of the legion to follow their orders. They would march into Elysium together before that happened.
*****************
Forty-five minutes later, they were both back on the bridge. They could see the main view screen was focused on the Fortuna. The main hanger bay doors were sliding open, revealing the cavernous hanger deck within. The Fortuna was much newer and larger than Agamemnon, with heavier armor and weapons.
“Agamemnon Control,” said the voice from the speaker. “This is Shuttle Furia, departing Fortuna. We are requesting approach vector and clearance.”
The Praetorian just nodded at the communications officer.
“Confirmed, Shuttle Furia,” replied the Comm Officer. “Approach path uploaded to your navigation computer. You are cleared for approach.”
Aurelius watched as the sleek vessel slipped out of the hanger bay with clean efficiency, neatly adjusting her course as soon as it cleared the ship’s traffic zone. After a moment’s adjustment, it banked around and headed directly for Agamemnon.
“ETA, six minutes,” announced the sensor officer.
“Well then,” said Praetorian Octavius. “Shall we meet our guests?”
Everyone took note of the emphasis that the Praetorian placed on the last word. There was little doubt of the esteem that he held the vice president in, or lack thereof. Octavius, Cyprianus and Aurelius were already in their dress uniforms, complete with swords. Cassia was still seated at her station when Octavius seemed to pause and take note of her.
“Centurion Gratiana,” he said.
“Yes, Praetorian,” she said, turning.
“Get your dress uniform on and meet us in the banquet hall,” he instructed. “I want you there.”
“Sir?” she said, looking at him quizzically.
&nb
sp; “Well, Centurion,” he explained. “You were in command during most of the incident. I’m certain that the Vice President will want a firsthand accounting of the event.”
“Of course, Praetorian,” she answered, getting up from her station.
“Besides,” explained Octavius, “this way you will miss all of the formalities. Trust me, Centurion, you will thank me later.”
With that, the four officers entered the lift-car. Aurelius and Cassia stood at the back while the two senior officers chatted quietly amongst themselves.
“I don’t have a sword for my dress uniform,” whispered Cassia. “I’ve never been formally presented with one.”
“Most fleet officers never do,” replied Aurelius. “The sword is a mark of the legion. Do not worry yourself about this. I will take care of it for you.”
The lift-car stopped on the deck for senior officer’s quarters. Cassia exited the car followed by Aurelius.
“Marcus?” said Cyprianus. “Where are you going?”
“I will join you before the shuttle lands, sir,” replied Aurelius. “I need to retrieve something from my quarters.”
“Do not be long, Praefect,” advised the Praetorian. “It would not look good for the Legion’s Commander to be late.”
Aurelius nodded.
“Of course not, sir,” he answered. “I shall not be.”
Cassia moved off quickly to change clothes while Aurelius walked briskly down another corridor to his own spartanly furnished quarters. Once inside, he removed a worn cloak from his closet and then opened a display case. Inside was a finely crafted Gladius. It was not as ornate as the one that he had been given by the Legatus, but it had been in his family for generations. He smiled at the thought of it adorning Cassia’s trim waist.
Wrapping the sword in his cloak, he exited his quarters and nearly ran for the nearest lift-car. The gleaming steel of his dress armor was gilded with real gold filigree decorating the two wolves emblazoned on the front of his chest plate. They were both howling towards a golden sun that was just below his throat. The armored kilt ended just above the tops of his polished black leather boots.
Lost Legion- Blood and Honor Page 4
