Publica Section 1 Part 6
Part 6
The legionnaires of Arma stood rank and file on the stella tarmac. They waited for Hasitus to board the ship before they would crew it. It was an old tradition, almost reminiscent of the dark ages when militaries were too proud and ever present. It may have been that they were slipping into another great dark age, when war ran aloof and militaries were too powerful and funded with far too much wealth.
Hasitus raised his sword toward his troops and let blue air swirl about it like fire, emitted by the handle’s force field emitter. The soldiers tapped their staves against the ground and saluted him with fist to chest. With Posydin and Harma at his side, he walked to the boarding ramp of his flagship. Decorative displays hung about the arched entrance, along with a small wing of praetorian guards. The Imperator was sending his best regards.
At the foot of the ramp, Lavendi waited patiently with a face full of both love and concern. There was another figure standing at her side, smaller and with a much younger face. Hasitus maintained his facial expression as he realized she had already taken a girl to bed to substitute for his presence. Still, he walked up to her and recited words she asked him to speak. Lavendi kissed him lightly on the lips despite the growing laughter amongst the soldiers.
In a quieter whisper voice, “Don’t let the snakes bite you,” Lavendi said. She left him with a small smile and light footsteps. The girl never spoke a word with her. Hasitus was unsure whether she could even speak proper Latin or Dictum. The ornaments around her wrists and neck suggested barbarian lineage and upbringing.
“Nice wife, but who’s the girl?” Posydin asked.
“Shut up,” Hasitus replied, before stepping onto the ramp.
The centurion could hear Harma quipping at Posydin for his ill thought words but it was drowned out by the noise of hundreds of feet marching behind them. Under the fanfare of a new campaign set out by the Imperator, the soldiers boarded fifty capital ships to journey to the system of Gladius. There, they were to defend the outpost against a small fleet of Federation craft and secure the region.
Hasitus had prepared a large number of supplies, ever wary of political treachery by the Serpens. It was his non-involvement in politics that left him ignorant of the real circumstances, yet it was also his non-involvement that he intended to survive the senatus constant backstabbing and betrayal. For a republic deemed to be so enlightened and cultured by the greatest principles, it felt ironic they were suffered the worst of politics. He had never heard of a Grandeur chieftain betrayed by another clansman, as he had heard republican soldiers sent to the worst locations so that they may die and trouble a senator no more.
“I love the spectacle of leaving off to a new campaign,” Posydin commented, gazing over the military displays. “All of the banners flying, even my own, it’s quite flattering.”
“An expense that the Publica feels more willing to endure each year,” replied Hasitus suddenly wary of the republic’s survival.
“Ah, so long as we whip some Fed dogs in the end, I am well satisfied,” Posydin said.
“I would have believed you were well satisfied from hired women,” Harma said, one of the few moments he would insult someone and almost always Posydin.
Hasitus laughed aloud as they stepped into their command centre. In an instant they could recognize a hundred changes. Gilding appeared on the railings, new computers systems had been installed and the most advanced equipment placed about the bridge. They were expenses far beyond the capabilities of house Arma.
A plaque was hung against the back wall proclaiming his heroic title and naming his many deeds. The Imperator had inked his name personally onto the piece. There may have been more upgrades made unbeknownst to Hasitus but he did not care to search for them. It was enough for him to know the Imperator had done this much.
“It would seem the Imperator finds it expedient to spend on the military the riches of the republic,” Hasitus stated, still locked in using formal words and a level tone.
Harma gripped his hand on one railing and looked about the room. The man’s eyes were wide open drinking in the splendour of the precious metals that now lined every wall and corner. “Perhaps, he finds it expedient to spend the wealth of an empire.”
“Let’s just lift the ship off the ground,” Posydin replied carelessly, uncaring of the political prattle.
It took several hours for the crew of every ship to assemble into proper order. In an impatient voice, Hasitus ordered the fleet forward. The engines rumbled and roared as they ascended upward. Hasitus once heard that on Terra, they used great elevators to lift spacecraft into orbit, finding it too expensive to use spacecraft engines to do so. The Imperators of the Publica found the display a good show for the public, even if expensive. Before the war, such campaigns were rare, making space elevators a boring method of breaking into space.
The floor began to shake violently underneath before internal stabilizers activated. Slowly, the ground began to rush out from underneath. Turning the city from a great wall of towering architecture to mere coloured squares against a green backdrop. Soon, they were well above even the sky. Porta had become a marble of green, blue and white. It was his home, and it never ceased to be breathtaking view.
“How is the fleet?” Hasitus said, distracted by the sight of the planet.
Resting in a chair, Posydin turned lazily in Hasitus’ direction. “Well, we aren’t going to Durus province. They’re fine.”
“I have heard we’ve retaken the province,” Harma said.
Posydin snorted half a cough and half a laugh. “I have heard the Publica smeared the province with a fresh coat of bodies.”
“Hopefully, more Fed beasts than legionnaires,” Hasitus replied.
Posydin responded, “Hard to count when there’s over three hundred thousand new casualties.”
“There was only one battle in the past few days,” Harma murmured, always disheartened by the sheer number of casualties from the land. Hasitus always suspected he had lost relatives to the region, but Harma would never reveal anything of the like.
“Well, it will be another few days before we arrive at Gladius,” Hasitus said. “It may be wise for only one of us to stay here and keep command.”
The two men nodded and left hurriedly, leaving Hasitus the first to accept the responsibility. He set himself into a chair and waited. Officers murmured reports to him of inconsequential matters. It was the calm before the storm. Hasitus had been through it too many times. The journey into war was always uneventful. It left the mind unprepared for the rigors of Federation tactics.
The legionnaires of Arma stood rank and file on the stella tarmac. They waited for Hasitus to board the ship before they would crew it. It was an old tradition, almost reminiscent of the dark ages when militaries were too proud and ever present. It may have been that they were slipping into another great dark age, when war ran aloof and militaries were too powerful and funded with far too much wealth.
Hasitus raised his sword toward his troops and let blue air swirl about it like fire, emitted by the handle’s force field emitter. The soldiers tapped their staves against the ground and saluted him with fist to chest. With Posydin and Harma at his side, he walked to the boarding ramp of his flagship. Decorative displays hung about the arched entrance, along with a small wing of praetorian guards. The Imperator was sending his best regards.
At the foot of the ramp, Lavendi waited patiently with a face full of both love and concern. There was another figure standing at her side, smaller and with a much younger face. Hasitus maintained his facial expression as he realized she had already taken a girl to bed to substitute for his presence. Still, he walked up to her and recited words she asked him to speak. Lavendi kissed him lightly on the lips despite the growing laughter amongst the soldiers.
In a quieter whisper voice, “Don’t let the snakes bite you,” Lavendi said. She left him with a small smile and light footsteps. The girl never spoke a word with her. Hasitus was unsure whether she could even speak proper Latin or Dictum. The ornaments around her wrists and neck suggested barbarian lineage and upbringing.
“Nice wife, but who’s the girl?” Posydin asked.
“Shut up,” Hasitus replied, before stepping onto the ramp.
The centurion could hear Harma quipping at Posydin for his ill thought words but it was drowned out by the noise of hundreds of feet marching behind them. Under the fanfare of a new campaign set out by the Imperator, the soldiers boarded fifty capital ships to journey to the system of Gladius. There, they were to defend the outpost against a small fleet of Federation craft and secure the region.
Hasitus had prepared a large number of supplies, ever wary of political treachery by the Serpens. It was his non-involvement in politics that left him ignorant of the real circumstances, yet it was also his non-involvement that he intended to survive the senatus constant backstabbing and betrayal. For a republic deemed to be so enlightened and cultured by the greatest principles, it felt ironic they were suffered the worst of politics. He had never heard of a Grandeur chieftain betrayed by another clansman, as he had heard republican soldiers sent to the worst locations so that they may die and trouble a senator no more.
“I love the spectacle of leaving off to a new campaign,” Posydin commented, gazing over the military displays. “All of the banners flying, even my own, it’s quite flattering.”
“An expense that the Publica feels more willing to endure each year,” replied Hasitus suddenly wary of the republic’s survival.
“Ah, so long as we whip some Fed dogs in the end, I am well satisfied,” Posydin said.
“I would have believed you were well satisfied from hired women,” Harma said, one of the few moments he would insult someone and almost always Posydin.
Hasitus laughed aloud as they stepped into their command centre. In an instant they could recognize a hundred changes. Gilding appeared on the railings, new computers systems had been installed and the most advanced equipment placed about the bridge. They were expenses far beyond the capabilities of house Arma.
A plaque was hung against the back wall proclaiming his heroic title and naming his many deeds. The Imperator had inked his name personally onto the piece. There may have been more upgrades made unbeknownst to Hasitus but he did not care to search for them. It was enough for him to know the Imperator had done this much.
“It would seem the Imperator finds it expedient to spend on the military the riches of the republic,” Hasitus stated, still locked in using formal words and a level tone.
Harma gripped his hand on one railing and looked about the room. The man’s eyes were wide open drinking in the splendour of the precious metals that now lined every wall and corner. “Perhaps, he finds it expedient to spend the wealth of an empire.”
“Let’s just lift the ship off the ground,” Posydin replied carelessly, uncaring of the political prattle.
It took several hours for the crew of every ship to assemble into proper order. In an impatient voice, Hasitus ordered the fleet forward. The engines rumbled and roared as they ascended upward. Hasitus once heard that on Terra, they used great elevators to lift spacecraft into orbit, finding it too expensive to use spacecraft engines to do so. The Imperators of the Publica found the display a good show for the public, even if expensive. Before the war, such campaigns were rare, making space elevators a boring method of breaking into space.
The floor began to shake violently underneath before internal stabilizers activated. Slowly, the ground began to rush out from underneath. Turning the city from a great wall of towering architecture to mere coloured squares against a green backdrop. Soon, they were well above even the sky. Porta had become a marble of green, blue and white. It was his home, and it never ceased to be breathtaking view.
“How is the fleet?” Hasitus said, distracted by the sight of the planet.
Resting in a chair, Posydin turned lazily in Hasitus’ direction. “Well, we aren’t going to Durus province. They’re fine.”
“I have heard we’ve retaken the province,” Harma said.
Posydin snorted half a cough and half a laugh. “I have heard the Publica smeared the province with a fresh coat of bodies.”
“Hopefully, more Fed beasts than legionnaires,” Hasitus replied.
Posydin responded, “Hard to count when there’s over three hundred thousand new casualties.”
“There was only one battle in the past few days,” Harma murmured, always disheartened by the sheer number of casualties from the land. Hasitus always suspected he had lost relatives to the region, but Harma would never reveal anything of the like.
“Well, it will be another few days before we arrive at Gladius,” Hasitus said. “It may be wise for only one of us to stay here and keep command.”
The two men nodded and left hurriedly, leaving Hasitus the first to accept the responsibility. He set himself into a chair and waited. Officers murmured reports to him of inconsequential matters. It was the calm before the storm. Hasitus had been through it too many times. The journey into war was always uneventful. It left the mind unprepared for the rigors of Federation tactics.
posted by Ultrapunk at 3:07 PM
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