by George Olney
She never knew how long she just sat there, staring into space, tears trickling down her face. Mourning for those she could never know. Then she felt a gentle presence, something she couldn't see but knew was there. She wasn't alone. She was a Gladius, and a Gladius was part of a Whole, part of generations before, part of those now here. She was being welcomed by those women gone before her. She was a Gladius woman... and there were others with her.
Time to act like it. She stood up and noticed something she'd missed. In the corner behind the door was a small sink with a mirror, a shelf, and a cabinet. There was even a box of tissues on the shelf. Beyond a doubt, this was women's quarters. Let's get cleaned up and squared away, Ettranty. You have to report to the Sergeant Major.
And for Lord Above's sake, wear your uniform right! You represent every woman in the legion. Be proud.
She was a little uneasy as she stepped back into the passageway and followed the little ball to wherever the Sergeant Major was located. She thought everything on her uniform was right, but she wasn't sure. She dreaded appearing in front of the Sergeant Major with even the littlest thing wrong. She was in a larger passageway when she started to walk past four young Legionnaires headed the other way.
One of them stopped her. "Hold it, mate."
She stopped. What now?
One of them, a boy almost ten years her junior, said, "You're Ettranty."
Shana nodded, still nervous.
Another said, "It's good to see that uniform again, but you're not quite right. First decurion that sees you will have your ass.
"Here," he said, as he started to adjust the position of her insignia, "this is how they go. Better never forget that."
Another one told her, "Cock your cap a bit forward. You can do it now. You're veteran of a real battle, not just a little fire fight." She tipped her cap forward slightly, to general approval. After all, she was a veteran Gladius, no matter how she got that way. "Only newbies and pricks wear their caps straight up," the young Legionnaire finished, producing some laughter.
A third said, "Arm dagger's off, too. I'll bet that's uncomfortable. Let me fix it for you."
He unclasped the dagger and reattached the mounting band in a little different position. She flexed her arm. I did feel better. "Thanks, guys," she replied with a smile. "That does feel right. And thanks for helping me with the insignia. I've got to see the Legion Sergeant Major and I want everything to be correct."
"If you're on your way to see Olmeg, you'd better get your ass in gear," one of them said. "Least we can do for a new mate." The group looked her over carefully and pronounced her ready to face the Sergeant Major.
She didn't think. The question just tumbled out. Looking at the young Legionnaire that had adjusted her dagger, she asked, "How did you know how a woman's dagger should be worn?"
She wanted to pull the question back as soon as it was spoken. The youngster's eyes darkened for a moment. "Mother and two sisters, mate. Grew up with it."
"Sorry." It was all she could say.
He shook his head and his smile returned. It was cold, cold. "They paid the Gladius Price, Ettranty. So did everyone else's mothers, or sisters, or daughters in the Victrix. We all do, sooner or later. But the Predator paid way more. And I took some of it."
His smile grew warmer. "You took some, too, I heard. Good. Now get on. Olmeg will crawl all over you if you're overdue."
She started to walk away when one of the young Legionnaires broke the somber mood. "Great ass, Ettranty," he called, "but you're a bit too tall and way too old for me."
Shana spun to look at them in something akin to shock that anyone would say such a thing. Then she suddenly realized they were young soldiers. Soldiers were like that. And she was a soldier too. "When I want to play with children," she called back, "I'll look you boys up."
She put her hand on her hip and gave them all a brazen grin. "It'll probably take all of you if I do."
They were still laughing as she walked away. She was, too.
As she walked the passageways, Shana became aware of a peculiar phenomenon. Every Gladius she saw was smiling. Even crusty and grizzled decurions. Even the officers, in a little more restrained fashion. At her. Not a "guy-looking-at-a-pretty-girl" smile. Well, not most of it. There was friendship there, too. She was a member of the Victrix, after all. But members of the same legion didn't go around smiling at each other all of the time.
Then she realized. It was the uniform. Oh, they all knew about her, but it was the uniform, the skirt and what it represented, that made the difference. She was a Gladius woman in duty khakis, something these men had seen all their lives. Something they thought gone and lost forever. It was that simple. Before her, they had no future. Now, she and her uniform symbolized a future. Up to her to justify that, and there was still a little something in the background of her mind that said she wasn't alone. Those Now Gone were with her and approved.
Her carriage got a little more erect and she stepped out with self-confidence. If being a living symbol was her duty, well she could damn well do it. She was a Gladius now. She knew about duty.
She found the Sergeant Major, standing with several other decurions on an immense balcony over that huge empty deck, talking and watching various Gladii crossing the deck on unnamed errands. He looked over her figure, rigid at attention, with a hard eye that missed nothing. "All good, Ettranty," he pronounced his verdict. He had to know she'd had help with the uniform, but didn't ask from who or why. It was unimportant. Gladii helped Gladii.
"Stand easy." Even he smiled. "It's good to see that uniform again. The Victrix is going to be right, one of these days.
"Ettranty, you would normally be in Support Command, but there isn't one at the moment." A shadow crossed his face. "There will be again. But for now, there's the little question of where to assign you."
Shana debated a reply, but decided the time wasn't right.
"The Victrix is about to pick up a whole new mission. The Colonel will brief us on it once we're on the ground. Because of your civilian experience, he wants you assigned to Corps Intelligence Section.
"That's Sergeant First Class Span. Intelligence. He'll be your boss." He indicated a senior decurion a couple of measures away where the other two sergeants had retired so the Sergeant Major could conduct his interview. Then he pointed to the other one. "That's Sergeant First Class Steel. He'll take you to where you're going to stand in the formation. You'll form with First Cohort today. You were with them on your Virgin Mission, even if you didn't know it. You stand with them."
He leaned over and whispered in her ear. "Do you remember the song I taught you? The Gladio?"
She nodded. "Yes, Sergeant Major. I still say I can't sing."
The Sergeant Major smiled. "No one will care, Ettranty. They need to hear a woman's voice today. That's enough. Just sing it when you're told to do it. That's all they care about."
He stepped back. "Good enough."
The Sergeant Major looked at Span and Steel. "She's all yours. Dismissed, Ettranty."
Now here she was, part of a small sea of khaki uniforms. Just kilts and her skirt, and not a pair of pants in sight. The odd thought almost made her giggle. Stop it, she told herself. You're too damned old to giggle like a school girl. A school girl in the middle of a bunch of hairy soldiers that had just fought a major battle, too.
Besides, she liked the flowing feel of her long skirt. It felt graceful and more comfortable than the pants from her civilian past. She also liked what it symbolized. It made her feel proud, just like the insignia and her arm dagger. She was a full-fledged female Gladius. The only one in the Victrix.
For that matter, certainly the only one in Fourth Platoon, Second Century, First Battalion, First Cohort. Sergeant First Class Steel's platoon. Lieutenant Tremp, the platoon leader, seemed a little nonplused when he showed up to collect his charges, but adapted gamely to the discovery one member of his command was just a bit different from the rest. Like any good decurion, Sergeant First Class Steel
helped the young L.T. adjust and all was once again well. So Shana was at the end of the last row in the platoon formation when they assembled to disembark.
There was a good bit of standing around waiting in formation, left foot in place, leavened by various wisecracks. None of them were hostile and a few were actually funny. Shana tried to give as good as she got. She didn't feel uncomfortable. The men seemed to be perfectly relaxed with her presence, woman or not. There weren't even any questions about why she was here. They all knew her and seemed happy she was in their platoon, at least for the moment. She was simply another Gladius trooper and that was all there was to it.
She was learning about troops. She was also learning these men were as tired as she was. They were all in splendid condition, but no amount of conditioning would prevent the emotional and physical aftereffects of major combat. In her mind, Shana judged the entire legion as just about ready for a day in the bunk. However, they had things to do before they could rest, a good many things, and the Colonel was about to tell them what they were. Then they would do them. Maybe afterward, they could just collapse somewhere. Shana was also learning that this sort of thing was perfectly typical of a soldier's existence.
Just take it and get on with the job, Ettranty.
The move off the ship looked confused and her ant's eye view showed no organization, but there were decurions loudly, profanely, and - usually - vulgarly giving orders everywhere. One thing that struck her was the vulgarity dried up when she was around, but the orders were just as loud and profane. It seemed the troops were just a little different around a woman.
In almost no time, the platoon was at its designated location in the formation in the middle of some huge floor. Probably a landing area because there were other immense ships, types she'd never seen, parked just a short way from the troop carrier. Stealing a glance around, she realized the cavern they were in had to be nearly as large as a small city. Amazing. And amazing it was all here and there was never a hint it existed.
"Eyes front! You characters aren't tourists and I know damned well you aren't buying any real estate today!" The bark of her squad sergeant brought her back to reality with a crashing thud and she settled at a parade rest like everyone else, philosophically resigned to standing there until someone would do something sensible.
"Settle down, people," Steel's voice growled from somewhere behind her and the platoon got very, very quiet.
Suddenly, "Cohorts!" "Battalions!" "Centuries!"
"Attention-n-n-n, ho!" The crash of nearly three thousand sets of boots echoed through the cavern as their heels came together in precise time.
"Stand easy, Victrix, and listen up." It was Colonel Athan, standing on a balcony overlooking the landing area, speaking over a PA system. They were about to find out what was happening.
"Okay, people, we were run off our last base. We took some of them, but we were still run off. We came here and they had problems with a Predator."
He paused for a second, looking around. Shana, from her position in the formation, strained to look at Athan. She knew him reasonably well, but now she was seeing him from a legionnaire's perspective. He started to speak again. "They no longer have that problem."
The cavern filled with a low growl in an incoherent noise like thunder flowing from the sky. Athan let it run its course, just standing there. The men deserved to make that growl. It was an affirmation of a needed task well done. They'd once again destroyed the Predator. It was in their blood to hunt and kill the Predator, as it was in Athan's. Had he been in that formation, he'd have joined the sound.
Finally, it was quiet. "That's a task well done, men." He stopped for a second and smiled wryly. "And woman.
"But it's not the final task. We all know who ordered the destruction of Victrix Base... the Emperor. One day, he and his will regret that. So now we have a new mission, to bring about that day of regret, sometime in the future. This legion will undertake that mission. Legate Corona had a plan, and it involves Cauldwell. He and his staff are dead. But I'm alive and we're going to carry that plan out."
Shana suddenly began to worry. As a former reporter (former reporter?) she was a political sophisticate. Was the Victrix planning to take over the government? Was she going to be a part of a military dictatorship? The thought made her stomach turn sour. That was the Gladius in her reacting. Risking a few glances around, she noticed the expressions around her and it looked like the men were all thinking like she was and the thought was just as upsetting to them.
Athan seemed to read the mind of his legion. "No, we aren't going to take over the government. I'm a Gladius, just like you, and just like Corona. He wouldn't do it. I won't do it. And you won't do it. We're going to do something different. We're going to make something that will be new and lasting, but we can't do it by becoming military dictators.
"No, we're not going to take over the government, but it's still going to fall. We know how to do that, people, and we're just as good at this kind of warfare as any other. It's what comes after the fall we have to worry about, which is why we're going to do this slowly, carefully, and above all, right.
"Because after we take out the government of Cauldwell, we have to take out the Empire." That bombshell produced total silence.
He gestured at the immense surrounding cavern. "See this nice little hole we've dived into and pulled in after ourselves? It's an equipment depot, created by the Empire, and there's ten more like it... right here on this planet."
Shana was shocked. Eleven of these huge depots? On Cauldwell?
Athan was speaking again. "The EW section detected signal emitters all over the planet, where there weren't supposed to be any. Several of you scouts went and did a little looking and found them. The Empire got too smart, folks. All of them were electronically monitored. All of the monitors except the ones here show the condition of the depot. We fixed these a while back. The Empire doesn't know that. Those dumb sons of bitches don't know we're here."
Cheers and laughter.
"We're right under their noses and they don't know where the Victrix is. Good thing, too. We're too dangerous for them to allow us to exist." Another growl. "You're in your new home for a while, at least until we can succeed on Cauldwell.
"Our new operations plan is long and complicated. The Legate and your senior officers have been preparing this one for a while, people, and it'll work. The Victrix is good enough to make it work.
"But I'll give you the short form. The people of Cauldwell are going to wake up and learn to take care of themselves. And we're going to help. Meanwhile, we'll be looking for others like us. I'm sure there are more legions and Fleet units out there. We're going to find them. Once all of that is done, we're going to smash that whole rotten mess back on Central. Then we're going to buckle down and help build something new. What it will be yet, I can't tell you. That's a job for some other unlucky bastards. All I can tell you is that they will be civilians. We want no part of a military takeover, for any reason, people, so we'll find some other poor assholes to do the rebuilding. It just won't be us doing it. We'll help, but we have enough problems of our own."
Cheers.
Athan wasn't through. "You'll learn more in the days to come, but we have things to do right here and now and we'll get to them. This is our new home, people, and we need to settle in. We have to work on this cavern and expand it until we have a real base for the Victrix. I know you will all work cheerfully." Laughter.
"First, though... We fought a battle and saved a world. Again. We need to remember who we are, people. We are the Corps of Gladius. I say we are no longer the Corps of Imperial Gladius, but we are still the Corps of Gladius. And we are the Victrix. There's something we can do right now, something we never thought we could do again.
"Legionnaire Second Class Ettranty."
Shana couldn't help herself. She already had the gut reactions of a Gladius trooper. She popped to attention and yelled, "Aye!"
Athan smiled again, a small movement of hi
s lips. "Legionnaire Second, you've been taught to sing by the Sergeant Major. I'm sure none of us want to hear him, so you have to do it. Sing, Legionnaire."
To save her life, Shana could never have sung in front of a group, let alone thousands of men she barely knew. But it was an order, and she could follow an order. "Aye!"
Despite her overly critical personal opinion about her singing, to the men her voice was high and sweet, oh so sweet to the Victrix, as she began a well-loved piece of music.
"Gladio, Gladio alieyo, tu Bestiaeo
et dai ne admanda conamor."
There was a soft shuffle like a wind in the trees as the entire cavern came to attention without orders.
The men of her platoon started singing with her, singing the chorus. Then she sang the verse and every man in the cavern joined in on the next chorus. She was singing the Gladio, the anthem of the Corps, always sung at attention, and traditionally sung by male and female. The women sang the verse and the men sang the chorus. Without a woman, it couldn't be sung, and the men never expected to hear it again. Shana sang and she put her heart into it. She was allowing the Victrix to once again sing about what they were, the Gladius, the Protector, the ones who hunted That Which Stalked From Hell. They protected people, just people, who wanted to live their lives without threats or fear.
Shana began the song a second time, as the massed male voices crashed about the cavern, thundering counterpoint to her own high sweet tones. They were affirming themselves as Gladii, and making a promise.
The Empire was dying, but humanity wasn't, and the Gladius was now the protector of humanity, not the Empire. They were going to kill something and build something new in its place. The Gladius was no longer a simple destroyer of enemies. The Victrix was going to build something new in the universe. That was different and it felt good. Shana held up her head as she sang the old, old words proudly.
The Empire was now the Predator. For over a thousand years, the Gladius stood charge to hunt down and destroy the Predator.
Here, in this cavern, a pledge was being made. The Gladius was hunting the Empire.
