Publica Section 1 Part 4
Part 4
The senatus hushed to a silence with the raise of a single hand. Lassus stood, upright and rigid, with a face of stateliness little seen outside the chamber. In his hand was clasped a golden scroll with authentic yellowed paper. As the representation of the will of the people, he used no ceremonial weapons and wore no gilded armour. Instead, like every other senator, he wore the same white robes and brown sash decorated with the dye of sunlight. With a loud voice he filled the domed room with his speech.
Hasitus knelt down on the marble floor while the senator walked a circle about him. He knew that, just like a ceremonial blade, the scroll was of no real use. Lassus spoke from his mind and memory, not from anything written in the blank scroll. The ceremony was merely a matter of waiting and appearing to be intently interested.
“I present to you a hero of the republic,” Lassus said as he began to end. “I carry the honour to bestow the title of Vir. He may rise now and be known as Vir Hasitus, and any citizen who may walk near shall feel safe within his presence.”
A standing applause followed with a flurry of clapping hands. It was truly an occasion of gratitude. For only a second, Hasitus felt he was recognized for his sacrifices. He remembered the faces of each person he had lost, and every enemy ever slain. Both were mourned in his mind. A good soldier should care for all life, friend or foe, civilian or military.
“Thank you, senator,” Hasitus said as he clasped Lassus’ arm.
Lassus led him away from the centre of the chamber to the seats as the senatus began its discussions. “Come, sit, and listen to our endless prattle and constant bickering,” he said. The snake led him away from his uncle, and sat him amongst strangers. Even the other Serpen senators were not near. These were people of no notable family or origin. They were known amongst the plebs as the poor senators. A lack of wealth and influence only gave them more honesty and the people would elect them with clear votes. In the realm of politics, they only thought of the issue of policy but never of power struggles. For the major families, when they sat amongst the poor senators, it was the equivalent of sitting with no one.
“Hasitus,” Lassus began, slipping into a more informal voice. “I hear you are to leave for another campaign within the week. You barely have enough time to hold a wedding.”
“Dictum weddings are quick, and my wife will most like enter into a spartan marriage with me,” Hasitus said.
Lassus nodded and laughed under his breath, a sound lost amongst the shouting and arguing of the senators. They spoke of the policy of rationing food during the crisis of war. A dispute was erupting over the method of distribution.
“Military wives usually get into the spartan marriages,” Lassus said. “If they can’t have sex with the soldier they married, they’ll get sex somewhere else, male or female.”
“It is to be expected,” Hasitus replied. “Do you have a wife, senator?”
The fat man placed his sweaty hand on Hasitus’ shoulder, but he could barely feel the touch through his dress armour. “I do, but I keep her well away from these chambers. The sound of the talk would bring her to madness. The Lupus think that placing too many praetorians to hand out rations near the markets slows access for the poorer and needier plebs.”
Hasitus looked across the chamber floor and noticed many shouting their complaints vehemently. “It seems they have much support,” he said.
“They do,” Lassus replied. “The motion will pass. I will also vote in favour of passing the policy to reorganize distribution. It would not serve to have the rich handed their rations and the poor starve to death. One already has food while the other does not.”
“Wise vote,” Hasitus said carefully. He felt unsafe without Jacobi. It was no coincidence they sat away from everyone. There was something Lassus was building his way toward.
“Does the military already have you assigned to a particular campaign?” Lassus asked. Hasitus knew that was the question.
“No,” he replied, having nothing else to say.
The senator nodded, his chins bobbing. He shifted in his seat and shouted out a vote as the senatus continued their debate. Finally, he turned with a look in his eyes. “I have just thought,” he mused, “I have a cousin commanding his first fleet. I worry about him, much as Jacobi worries about you. It would be flattering if a hero of the republic would join his command.”
Hasitus mind raced, but he did not wish to give out an answer so quick. “What is your cousin’s name?” he asked politely.
“Germanicus,” Lassus answered quickly. He rolled out his words smoothly without mumbling his deft words but spoke too fast for Hasitus to interrupt. “He is a young commander, and I fear too inexperienced for such a command. You need only tell me you will give me this favour and I shall arranged for you to join his fleet with your ships. He marches to Gladius.”
With the name of the battlefield known, Hasitus spoke hastily breaking into the explanation. “Gladius? It is a reconnaissance base just within the Grandeur border. It is not even deep within the battlefield. Does Germanicus execute a mission of little importance?”
“Not at all,” Lassus said unoffended. “The base may be of little importance, but a Federation probe was detected flashing into the system and back out. It only means an attack fleet. The Terra-borns mean to send their dogs after the base but we will race there before them. It will be slow for them to bypass our forces and reach Gladius.”
“There’s a city of three hundred thousand there,” Hasitus said thinking aloud. “It will be important we speed there and ensure our defensive lines are not broken.”
“Then you will travel with Germanicus? A hero of the republic will surely get him through his first command,” Lassus said.
In a slow motion Hasitus nodded. He felt this was the beginning of the politics that would touch him. It wasn’t clear if Jacobi expected this to happen or that he had answered correctly. What did it matter to Hasitus if he travelled to a planet well away from the war zone to help an inexperienced commander, compared to being flung deep into the Grandeur worlds where the touch of the Federation turned grass to ash.
“Must they be so specific?” Hasitus asked as he listened to the senatus. Two men had stood shouting that the praetorians must be moved three streets deeper into a block of houses to make it a safe journey for the poorer plebs.
Tolerance was a trait well suited for a senator but Hasitus still coveted such a comfortable life. There would be no war to fight, only soldiers to thank. Life would be rich with luxuries and the people threw praises instead of orders. Hasitus relaxed on the stone bench and pretended for the next few hours, he was a senator and he was one of the voices shouting for better policy for the plebs.
The senatus hushed to a silence with the raise of a single hand. Lassus stood, upright and rigid, with a face of stateliness little seen outside the chamber. In his hand was clasped a golden scroll with authentic yellowed paper. As the representation of the will of the people, he used no ceremonial weapons and wore no gilded armour. Instead, like every other senator, he wore the same white robes and brown sash decorated with the dye of sunlight. With a loud voice he filled the domed room with his speech.
Hasitus knelt down on the marble floor while the senator walked a circle about him. He knew that, just like a ceremonial blade, the scroll was of no real use. Lassus spoke from his mind and memory, not from anything written in the blank scroll. The ceremony was merely a matter of waiting and appearing to be intently interested.
“I present to you a hero of the republic,” Lassus said as he began to end. “I carry the honour to bestow the title of Vir. He may rise now and be known as Vir Hasitus, and any citizen who may walk near shall feel safe within his presence.”
A standing applause followed with a flurry of clapping hands. It was truly an occasion of gratitude. For only a second, Hasitus felt he was recognized for his sacrifices. He remembered the faces of each person he had lost, and every enemy ever slain. Both were mourned in his mind. A good soldier should care for all life, friend or foe, civilian or military.
“Thank you, senator,” Hasitus said as he clasped Lassus’ arm.
Lassus led him away from the centre of the chamber to the seats as the senatus began its discussions. “Come, sit, and listen to our endless prattle and constant bickering,” he said. The snake led him away from his uncle, and sat him amongst strangers. Even the other Serpen senators were not near. These were people of no notable family or origin. They were known amongst the plebs as the poor senators. A lack of wealth and influence only gave them more honesty and the people would elect them with clear votes. In the realm of politics, they only thought of the issue of policy but never of power struggles. For the major families, when they sat amongst the poor senators, it was the equivalent of sitting with no one.
“Hasitus,” Lassus began, slipping into a more informal voice. “I hear you are to leave for another campaign within the week. You barely have enough time to hold a wedding.”
“Dictum weddings are quick, and my wife will most like enter into a spartan marriage with me,” Hasitus said.
Lassus nodded and laughed under his breath, a sound lost amongst the shouting and arguing of the senators. They spoke of the policy of rationing food during the crisis of war. A dispute was erupting over the method of distribution.
“Military wives usually get into the spartan marriages,” Lassus said. “If they can’t have sex with the soldier they married, they’ll get sex somewhere else, male or female.”
“It is to be expected,” Hasitus replied. “Do you have a wife, senator?”
The fat man placed his sweaty hand on Hasitus’ shoulder, but he could barely feel the touch through his dress armour. “I do, but I keep her well away from these chambers. The sound of the talk would bring her to madness. The Lupus think that placing too many praetorians to hand out rations near the markets slows access for the poorer and needier plebs.”
Hasitus looked across the chamber floor and noticed many shouting their complaints vehemently. “It seems they have much support,” he said.
“They do,” Lassus replied. “The motion will pass. I will also vote in favour of passing the policy to reorganize distribution. It would not serve to have the rich handed their rations and the poor starve to death. One already has food while the other does not.”
“Wise vote,” Hasitus said carefully. He felt unsafe without Jacobi. It was no coincidence they sat away from everyone. There was something Lassus was building his way toward.
“Does the military already have you assigned to a particular campaign?” Lassus asked. Hasitus knew that was the question.
“No,” he replied, having nothing else to say.
The senator nodded, his chins bobbing. He shifted in his seat and shouted out a vote as the senatus continued their debate. Finally, he turned with a look in his eyes. “I have just thought,” he mused, “I have a cousin commanding his first fleet. I worry about him, much as Jacobi worries about you. It would be flattering if a hero of the republic would join his command.”
Hasitus mind raced, but he did not wish to give out an answer so quick. “What is your cousin’s name?” he asked politely.
“Germanicus,” Lassus answered quickly. He rolled out his words smoothly without mumbling his deft words but spoke too fast for Hasitus to interrupt. “He is a young commander, and I fear too inexperienced for such a command. You need only tell me you will give me this favour and I shall arranged for you to join his fleet with your ships. He marches to Gladius.”
With the name of the battlefield known, Hasitus spoke hastily breaking into the explanation. “Gladius? It is a reconnaissance base just within the Grandeur border. It is not even deep within the battlefield. Does Germanicus execute a mission of little importance?”
“Not at all,” Lassus said unoffended. “The base may be of little importance, but a Federation probe was detected flashing into the system and back out. It only means an attack fleet. The Terra-borns mean to send their dogs after the base but we will race there before them. It will be slow for them to bypass our forces and reach Gladius.”
“There’s a city of three hundred thousand there,” Hasitus said thinking aloud. “It will be important we speed there and ensure our defensive lines are not broken.”
“Then you will travel with Germanicus? A hero of the republic will surely get him through his first command,” Lassus said.
In a slow motion Hasitus nodded. He felt this was the beginning of the politics that would touch him. It wasn’t clear if Jacobi expected this to happen or that he had answered correctly. What did it matter to Hasitus if he travelled to a planet well away from the war zone to help an inexperienced commander, compared to being flung deep into the Grandeur worlds where the touch of the Federation turned grass to ash.
“Must they be so specific?” Hasitus asked as he listened to the senatus. Two men had stood shouting that the praetorians must be moved three streets deeper into a block of houses to make it a safe journey for the poorer plebs.
Tolerance was a trait well suited for a senator but Hasitus still coveted such a comfortable life. There would be no war to fight, only soldiers to thank. Life would be rich with luxuries and the people threw praises instead of orders. Hasitus relaxed on the stone bench and pretended for the next few hours, he was a senator and he was one of the voices shouting for better policy for the plebs.
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