Smiling, he began dressing with the same ritual that he used each time he put on the dress uniform. It was formal and precise, but he had learned it watching his father. To Aurelius, it was simply how it was supposed to be done. Each item was treated reverently and with the respect it was due. Everything would be in its place and exact. To do less was to dishonor the uniform and all of those who had worn it before. Tradition runs strong in the Legion.
Once everything was prepared, Aurelius began whispering a brief prayer to his ancestors paying special attention to the words he had for his father and his adoptive father. After paying homage to his ancestors, he whispered another brief prayer to the Gods. Mars was the primary focus of his devotions. After all, it would be the God of War who would be most directly involved in what was to come.
After checking his appearance in the mirror, he was pleased with the reflection. The uniform was perfect, and he always felt inspired when he wore his dress armor. It was ornate but fully functional, depicting a fierce battle between Mars and a great serpent emerging from the sea. The details of the scene were so realistic; you could see the set of the eyes of Mars and the drops of blood running down his arms.
The final item to go into place was the red cloak. The ornamental clasp represented his rank as a Praefect. After today, it would be replaced. Although he was entitled to wear the clasp of the Legatus Legionis of the Iron Legion, he chose to wear the emblem of the Legion Medal of Honor. Receiving two of them would be represented with a laurel wreath around the emblem. Few warriors ever received one such award and lived to tell the tale, but to receive two was almost unheard of.
Walking out of his quarters, he turned towards the lift. It was nearly time for him to board the shuttle that would take him to the surface for the ceremony. His helm was clasped beneath his left arm and his right hand rested on the hilt of the Spatha. Despite being lost in his own thoughts, he kept his shoulders squared and his head high, saluting all that greeted him. Although he still wore the rank of Praefect, everyone addressed him as Legatus. Even though he knew the title now belonged to him, it still felt wrong. Cyprianus should have been here to see the day he reached Legatus.
Entering the lift-car, he breathed a sigh of relief to find that he was alone. Tapping the controls for the hanger deck, he leaned back against the railing and closed his eyes. Today was supposed to be a day to celebrate the glory of battle and the promotion to Legatus. It all seemed empty and meaningless without Cyprianus there to share the day with.
The words of his mentor rang in his head, “You must be strong. You are now the strength of the Legio Ferrata. They will need you as you needed me for so long.”
Taking a deep breath, he felt the resolve settle over him and the nervousness faded. He opened his eyes and felt invigorated with purpose. It was time to face his destiny. It was time to embrace the course that he had decided upon. Fabretti had forgotten that the Legion had brought it victory and strength. They had forgotten the honor that the legion fought and lived for. Now they would learn the cost of that mistake.
Stepping out into the corridor that led into the main shuttle bay, Aurelius smiled when he saw that Cassia was already there in her dress uniform. She wore the Gladius he had given her on her shapely hip. She was smiling as he approached, pride showing in her eyes. Aurelius knew he would sacrifice anything to be worthy of her. With her at his side, they would unite the legions and build a new empire.
“You look well, Legatus,” she said as he approached.
“And you are as beautiful as the morning sun after a cold winter’s night,” replied Aurelius.
Cassia flushed to the tips of her ears, blushing at the compliment. For a moment, Aurelius was so taken with her that he did not notice the others that were waiting there for his arrival. Glancing around, he saw Praetorian Octavius, Centurion Flavianus, Centurion Avilius and Centurion Densus. They were all standing near the landing shuttle that would take them to the ceremony. Forming two double lines were Cohorts I through IV, standing as honor guard for his arrival.
“Honor your Praefect!” called Densus. “Honor Marcus Gaius Aurelius!”
As one, the cohorts slammed gauntleted fists against armored chest plates and the ring of steel on steel filled the shuttle bay. The Aquilifer bore the Eagle of the Legio Ferrata and the Vexillarius carried the Legion Standard. Both were in full ceremonial gear and raised the standards in perfect precision with the salute. Even two ranks of Conicens carried their long brass horns to play as they marched onto the field.
Aurelius could only smile. There were no words to describe the pride he felt at this moment. Bringing himself to his full height, he returned the salute. The ringing of his own gauntlet against his chest plate brought cheers from the legionnaires.
“Ave Marcus Aurelius!” they shouted.
“Ave Legio Ferrata!” shouted Aurelius.
Aurelius strode through the center of the formation, doing his best to maintain discipline. He hoped that the internal cameras had captured this moment so that he could watch it later and see the full presentation. This was a moment he wanted to remember, no matter what the future might bring. This was the spirit of the legion and he wanted to revel in the glory of it all.
“Board the shuttles!” bellowed Casca as Aurelius reached the end of the formation.
Instantly, the cohorts turned to face their shuttles and began marching inside at the commands of their Centurions. Aurelius walked up the boarding ramp and into the lead shuttle with Cassia at his side. Octavius was right behind him, followed by Centurions Avilius and Densus. They all took their seats and began buckling into their harnesses. Although they wouldn’t be dropping in from orbit, the shuttles still came into the atmosphere with a great deal of velocity.
Once they were all buckled in place, the pilots were given the go command and began radioing Agamemnon control for launch clearance. When clearance was granted, the lead shuttle lifted off the flight deck and headed out through the main hanger doors. The other shuttles followed suit and soon all five shuttles were in formation and approaching the upper atmosphere of Hadrian.
“It’s so beautiful from up here,” remarked Cassia.
“It is beautiful on the ground, as well,” replied Aurelius. “Even with the battle damage, it is a captivating planet.”
“I can’t wait to see it,” she said, taking his hand and lacing her fingers through his.
“We will be landing near the capitol building,” said Octavius, leaning up between the seats. “We will form up and march to the parade field where the presentation will be made.”
“I haven’t marched since the academy,” said Cassia.
“Do not worry,” said Aurelius, squeezing her hand gently. “You will march with the legion. We will show you how.”
“How far is it to the parade field?” asked Cassia.
“Only about two kilometers,” replied Casca. “A short march for the legion.”
“True,” said Aurelius, nodding at his friend, “but we do not want to arrive covered in road dirt and sweat in our dress uniforms, either.”
“It is a cool day with partial cloud cover,” said Casca. “I do not believe that we will become overheated.”
“Thirty seconds until we break through the upper atmosphere,” called the pilot.
“Stand-by for atmospheric entry,” called Casca over the legion comms.
“All cohorts, stand-by for atmospheric entry,” repeated the Centurions.
Moments later, a shudder ran through the shuttle when the initial turbulence kicked in as they bracketed their way through the thin upper-atmosphere. Despite the internal cooling systems, Aurelius could feel the heat building through the hull. The engineers insisted that the internal temperature didn’t change during landing operations, but Aurelius knew otherwise. He could feel it.
Aurelius was a drop trooper. Any entrance into atmosphere that didn’t involve dropping in with armor and thrusters was unnatural. For the Legio Ferrata there was no other way to land; t
he freefall and the planet rushing in to meet you. There was no other feeling quite like it. Despite all the combat drops that Aurelius had made, this landing made him far more nervous than any other.
The shuttles broke through the upper atmosphere and the ride began to stabilize. Once they penetrated the thick cloud cover, the planet appeared in the windows giving them all an expansive view of the thick forests and rolling hills. There was a massive lake that glistened in the pale light and the surface of the water reflected the light like a million candles.
“It’s beautiful,” said Cassia, smiling as she gazed out the small window.
“Yes, it is,” agreed Aurelius, although he was looking at Cassia, not the planet.
“The capitol should be coming into view any moment,” said the pilot. “We’re two minutes out.”
“I’ve seen it all before,” muttered Casca, frowning.
“There, there, Centurion,” chided Octavius. “The battle is won. This is a time to celebrate that victory and to mourn our losses.”
“I find little to celebrate with this victory,” replied Casca. “We lost too many men and rescued no one. We did not save anyone. They all died, long before we reached this Gods-forsaken place.”
“We would have lost them all had it not been for Aurelius,” replied Octavius.
“I do not dispute that, Praetorian,” answered Casca. “I only feel that there was no need for us to land here, in the first place.”
“It is where our orders sent us,” said Aurelius, turning to face Casca. “It is the duty of the Legion to go where our orders take us.”
“Yet you are as unhappy about the orders as I am,” Casca said, reaching up and removing his helmet. “I do not see the honor in dying for nothing.”
“There is honor in duty,” said Aurelius, placing his hand on the older warrior’s shoulder. “There is honor in the Legion. Fabretti may have forgotten that, but we have not. We accomplished our mission. Do not think that we will not hold Fabretti accountable for it.”
Casca turned to face Aurelius directly.
“What are you planning, my friend?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“I am not ready to reveal that, just yet,” replied Aurelius. “Just be prepared to follow my lead. You will know what I intend when the time comes.”
“I will be ready,” Casca assured him. “The Legion will follow you unto death and beyond.”
“I am counting on it,” said Aurelius, smiling.
Patting Casca on the shoulder, Aurelius turned back to Cassia.
“What are you planning, my love?” she whispered.
“In good time,” he said. “There are many things in motion that I cannot speak of, yet. Trust in me. I want to bring nothing but honor to us, and to the legion.”
“I do trust you,” she replied. “I have never doubted you and will not start now.”
“Landing zone in thirty seconds,” interrupted the pilot. “Beginning final descent.”
Aurelius could feel the deck-plates shift before he heard the pitch of the engines change. They were applying more vertical thrust now as the rate of forward momentum slowed. They could see the ground growing closer as the capitol city loomed beneath them. There were large sections that were burned and blackened, but despite that there was an elegance to the place. The architecture and layout of the city was both functional and pleasing to the eye. There were fountains at almost every major intersection.
“I wish I could have seen this place before the destruction,” said Cassia.
“We will rebuild,” replied Aurelius. “It will be returned to its former glory.”
“They say that this city was modeled after the images of Ancient Rome on Earth,” said Casca. “There is even a coliseum for sporting events and concerts.”
Casca saw the smile that tugged at the corners of Aurelius’ mouth. In that moment, he knew what was going to happen. It became as clear to him as the water of the enormous lake that they had flown over. Casca knew that it would take more than the might of the Iron Legion to pull off such a plan. Then he remembered that there were eight legions on this planet with their attendant vessels in orbit. If they were with him, then there was nothing Fabretti could do to stop him. Not right away, at least.
“Clever bastard,” thought Casca. “He has already united the other legions.”
There was a soft bump as the shuttle touched down onto the ground. The engines immediately began to spool down as the pilot cut power. Within seconds, the engine noise faded to almost nothing as the boarding ramp began to lower. A burst of cool, fresh air filled the compartment and brought with it the fragrant aroma of olives and dates.
Casca hit the release on his restraint belt and stood up, placing his helmet back onto his head. All around the shuttle, he could hear the belt releases coming off the legionnaires in their seats. Octavius and Aurelius stood beside him and Aurelius held out his hand, helping Cassia stand under the slightly different gravity. Planetary gravity was always different than artificial gravity on the ships. For anyone not accustomed to being on a planet, it was a perplexing experience.
It only took a moment for her to get her equilibrium back and she nodded her gratitude but did not release his hand. Aurelius did not attempt to pull away. Everyone in the Iron Legion already knew of their betrothal. There was no point in keeping it a secret any longer. Aurelius intended to make their relationship formal as soon as this was concluded.
“Cohorts disembark!” shouted Casca. “Ad Signa!”[20]
The legionnaires quickly and efficiently exited the shuttle and began forming up into ranks, by regiment. In moments, the shuttles had emptied, and the ranks were formed. The sounds of booted feet on cobblestones echoed through the deserted city.
“Forma!” bellowed Casca. “Intente!”[21]
The crisp snap of four cohorts moving in unison resounded loudly as the entire formation moved to the position of attention.
"Procedite[22]!” Casca roared.
The formation surged forward in perfect unison. The rhythm of the march was music to the ears of the senior officers. It showed the precision of the legion. Aurelius, Cassia, Flavianus and Octavius took their places beside the legion as the proceeded down the road. Casca was to their left, giving commands and controlling the pace.
Centurion Densus took his place with Cohort I, at the front of the column. Ahead of the procession, the two standard bearers were holding their standards high. The eagle of the legion was on the right with the legion banner on the left. At the back of the formation, the Conicens kept pace and awaited the command to begin playing.
The distance to the parade field was nearly two kilometers, but the formation covered the ground quickly. Aurelius found that he enjoyed the march in the cool morning air. The precision of the marching was both inspiring and comforting to him. He had spent enough time in the legion for the marching to feel as natural to him as the air he was breathing.
Just as they rounded the final bend in the road and could see the parade field with the other legions already in formation, Casca gave the command for the Conicens to begin playing. The clear notes of the brass horns filled the morning and stirred the blood. As the formation grew closer, their Conicens were joined by the Conicens of the other legions.
With all the banners blowing in the breeze and the sheer number of Eagles representing so many legions, Aurelius knew that this must have been how Julius Caesar had felt all those centuries ago when he marched into Rome. He was grateful that his helmet concealed the smile that was on his face. He was even more grateful that Cassia was there to experience it with him.
To his left, a massive grandstand had been erected. From the banners that fluttered in the breeze adorning the railing and the number of people on it, Aurelius could tell that was where the highest-ranking officers of each legion had gathered. Above the others, the banner of Fabretti Interplanetary trembled in the morning breeze. Even though he had served under that banner his entire life, Aurelius was angry at the sigh
t of it. It didn’t deserve to fly alongside the banners of the legion.
“After everything they have done,” thought Aurelius, “they do not deserve such a place of honor.”
He was careful to keep his face neutral, but the thoughts would not stop coming. Win or lose, he would not be returning to a life of serving the corporate greed of Fabretti Interplanetary. This would be the place where they would begin to build a life. This time, it would be one based on honor and valuing the lives of the people. They would learn from the mistakes of the old Roman Empire. Now was the time to build a new empire.
As the cohorts reached the center of the grandstand, Casca called for them to stop. The entire formation thundered to a halt in perfect unison. The horns ceased playing at the same moment. The echoes of the last boot stamp and the final note of the Conicens faded off into the rolling green hills. As the sound bleached into the distance, silence filled the arena that held eight legions and over three hundred thousand troops. The absolute stillness was a testament to their discipline.
The perfect silence was shattered by the blowing of Garibaldi’s nose. Aurelius did not need to turn his head to know who it had been. No one else would have had the audacity and disrespect for the legion to have broken that solemn moment. Closing his eyes, Aurelius tried to force the sound from his memory of this moment. It was the one blight on an otherwise perfect moment.
“Swine,” whispered a voice.
It could not have carried far, so Aurelius knew it had to be one of his men. Flicking his eyes to the side, he could not see anyone who had broken their discipline. He had no way to be certain, but he thought it had sounded like Praetorian Octavius. Considering whom it was directed at, Aurelius decided that he could forgive the breaking of discipline this one time. After all, he could not be completely certain that he had been the only one who heard it. It was possible that his mind had conjured the whisper. Perhaps not, but he could certainly understand the sentiment.
Lost Legion- Blood and Honor Page 15
