Chapter 7

This one marks the official start of the 2nd Act. I plan on about five acts. The first was definitely the shortest.

Chapter 7

The ship had been at sea for ten days. Dreadnaughts weren't known for speed, so it was slow sailing for the crew. The seas were calm enough during the summer months. Even so, the Blooded Bull was barely half of the way to the Straight of Gibraltar. Such slow sailing was one of the mains reasons the Empire did send many of the cities-at-sea to the Iroquois Federation. The Aztecs did not have much of a Navy to worry about and most fighting took place deep inland, so sending a ship was mainly a symbolic move. It was lucky for the Blooded Bull the Imperial Navy hadn't sent a few cruisers after it. This was mainly due to the fact that the Empire controlled Gibraltar, and didn't care to deal with a few survivors.

The three companions, now five, had settled in fine for the most part. Valencia was kept busy running her ship. She was always seen running back and forth, delivering her messages personally. The ship was equipped with wireless stations all across and around so she could receive reports when they came. Even though she could have stayed in the bridge, watching the ship from the massive spire, she still enjoyed the wind and tough talk of the sailors. The officers, to her, were too stiff and reminded her of her father. Those memories she preferred to keep down.

Caligula had recovered from his ordeal, so to speak. While still suspected to be a little loopy when alone, he was pure grace again in public. He spent most of his time exploring the ship's massive area. He would walk the deck, chatting with the crews about what went where, and who did what. At nights Caligula ate with the officers in their dining quarters. They would chat casual politics, explain their fields of military expertise, and talk of their future plans now that they had no country to serve. The consensus amongst the officers was to simply serve their Captain until she released them, or the Empire finally sunk their ship.

The Mouse scurried as his kind were wont to do. Ever nervous around the sailors, he balked and squealed at their rough language. He didn't fit in with the common crewmen. He wasn't high enough in rank or prestige to try to talk with the officers, although they seemed kind enough to him. He did, however, seem to enjoy the company of the ship's library. There he spent his time, reading books on the sciences and arts. The fictional stories were far and few on the military ship, so he decided to save those and spread them out. No sense in reading them all at once, leaving him void of adventure in his heaving, metal, crowded prison.

Augustus did what Augustus did. Fading from relative notice, he was everywhere, but still nowhere. His days were spent wondering around the ship, much like Caligula. He, however, was a simple enlisted man. He was a little old to be casual with the rank and file sailors, so he spent his time chatting away with the grizzled chiefs and other noncoms. They would let him accompany them on their rounds, checking up on the crewmen and relaying advice to their officers. Often, they spent their nights drinking with the enlisted men, sharing tales of war, terror, and valor. So it was that no one noticed what he did in his spare time, although it seemed like all of Augustus's time was spare time.

Cassius was ill at ease, to put it simply. He was used to a constant state of violence, tension, or general paranoia of some impending attack. Never before had he taken leave in the Empire or the Republic. In times of peace he had helped train new Guardsmen and Legionnaires. He would also take command of far-flung outposts and help against local insurgents and indigenous bandits. While at war, he was always at the front, preferring to carry out orders instead of giving them. When given command, he would still be in the thick of things, firing from his trenches when in the fields, or cutting down warriors in close quarters with his sword and his comrades. The past ten days of doing absolutely nothing were driving him insane. So it was that he called a meeting between the five survivors of the Battle of New Rome in his cabin.

They gathered at midnight, the very start of the eleventh day. At first, it was just Cassius in the spacious officer's cabin, waiting at the table he requested earlier that day. It was in the shape of a pentagon, with all the sides of equal length. Five traditional Roman chairs sat around the table. They were more like small benches, in the fact that they held no back. This helped ensure that the occupants would sit forward and listen; the method was common in the former Senate. While he waited, Cassius made sure that the documents were hidden away from sight, so no one would casually lay eyes on them. It would not serve for the Imperial missive to be revealed without proper planning. He still doubted that anyone had seen a copy. Valencia and Caligula hadn't made enemy contact, Dante was probably too busy hiding during combat, and Augustus was too busy delivering messages and tending to the wounded. At least, Cassius hoped that was the case.

The first of his companions to enter was Optio Dante. He entered with a few books in his left arm, held tight against his side. He gave a quick salute, squeaked out a “Reporting, sir!” and scurried to the farthest seat from Cassius. The room was light by a few old light bulbs, so Dante had to strain a bit as he took out a book and notepad. He would glance at a page or two, and then scribble out something for a bit. As soon as that book had opened, the mouse had seemed at ease. No twitching, paranoid glancing about, or squealing. Very astute for a mouse, Cassius thought.

“Optio, if I may, what is that book?”

Dante barely glanced at Cassius from across his spectacles before he continued reading and writing. He held up a finger, signaling to give him a moment, and hastily scribbled a last bit upon his notes. Sighing, he looked up at Cassius's curious face.

“Sir, it's a book on Imperial naval and coastal defenses of the last decade. I only just graduated from the Republic's Academy, so I don't have any naval experience. It's a...um...good read sir.”

With this, he took his pen in hand again and began to write some more. The light danced about the paper, scurrying away into shadows when his hand bounced about. The other hand, the left one, held the corner of his thick tome, turning pages and occasionally marking a place. This machine-like pattern continued for five minutes before Cassius interrupted again.

“And, why are you taking notes, Optio? Do you think to learn something Miss Valencia and her several, trained, battle-hardened officers don't know?”

Dante sighed once more and set down his pen. He rubbed his temples and looked up.

“No sir. It's more for the benefit of myself and anyone else who doesn't fully understand the power of the Imperial Navy, like the enlisted men. Sure, they're experienced and salty and whatnot, but they don't grasp strategy and tactics. No dreadnaught has ever been sunk, mainly because the only thing that could would be either an entire fleet or another dreadnaught. For the first time ever, the Imperial Navy has one to fight. If my knowledge can help the Bull stay afloat, then it can't hurt.”

Cassius was nodding in agreement as the mouse returned to his studies. How sure of himself, he seemed, when confronted about something he was informed. He didn't stutter once, Cassius noted, and kept eye contact. If he survived a few battles, he might make a decent commanding officer. Cassius was mulling this thought over when the next two of his companions arrived. They entered arm in arm, laughing ans snorting. Each of their faces held a little smile that only flickered down a little when they saw Cassius and Dante.

“Valencia. Caligula.”

Caligula withdrew his arm and walked over next to Cassius. Slapping his friend on the back, he said, “See this? I finally get her to stop working all day and take a nice dinner with me. It's about time she smiled and said something that didn't involve this damned ship.” He chuckled a bit and sat down to the right side of Cassius. Blushing, Valencia took the left side. Dante gestured a small salute, but spoke not a word. They waited for about ten awkward, silent minutes for Augustus to arrive.

“Sorry gents and lady. Got caught up with a story I was telling to the lads.” He offered up a small smile and sat next to Dante and Valencia. He nodded to Caligula, smiled at Valencia, and ruffled the hair�"much to his annoyance�"of Dante. Placing his arms on the table and leaning forward, he asked “Now then, what's this about, Legate?”

“Spare the title, Augustus. I think as of now, we are no longer servicemen in the New Roman Republic. I also think it's time we officially disband the nation.”

Silence responded to his words. His companions stared at him, some puzzled, some blank, and one smirking. They were taking in his blunt words, for he was never one to be subtle. Cassius was suggesting to them that they throw away the very thing they all saw their friends and family die for. Cassius continued to speak.

“Yes, this is a hard choice. But I don't mean we surrender to the Empire. We can still strike back. Just, this time as people, not a nation.”

He had stood up by this time. Glancing around, he paced back and forth behind his chair. Hands behind his back, he spoke more.

“There are no politicians left. We've lost the leading commander of our combined forces. No source of income, no territory, and various other reasons prevent us from being a nation.”

The first to speak up, after a few more moments of silence, was Valencia.

“Cassius, what would you have us do? We'd be fugitives from the largest military force in the world. Only Empire ports can outfit a dreadnaught, and they all want our heads. We don't have the supplies to flee across the ocean. Heading to Asia would be a one way trip.”

She stood up as well and leaned forward on the table. Her hair was tied up in a bun, and she was wearing a blue dress, Cassius noticed for the first time. How peculiar, he thought. Looking over to Caligula, he noticed that he was wearing his dress uniform. His hair seemed to be combed down and shining.

“Vale...Cali...did you two go on a date? On the ship?”

Valencia blushed at those words. “Well, uh, sort of. What does it matter? We have bigger things to discuss! Like your plans?” She huffed back down, and tried to hide the fact of what Cassius pointed out. The mouse spoke up, surprisingly.

“I-if I may, sirs and ma'am. But we have the Straight to worry about in a couple of weeks. How will be storm through? The Romans hold it. They've had years to build up its defenses, ever since they got it aft- um...never mind.”

Caligula spoke this time. “Kid, we all know what happened. Dakar lead to a Roman victory in the region. I was there, Cassius was there, and Valencia was there. Where were you Augustus?”

“Eh, with General Hephaestus. Something about bullets and blood. Same as usual”

Dante, feeling a bit more nervous said, “Well yeah...but the...thing... that caused the victory. We weren't taught much in school, just something about you three and the Fla-”

“I'm gonna cut you off right there, kid. We got better things to talk about. What happened in the past is irrelevant. We three made it out, but not after seeing some crazy things. Terrible things.”

This outburst from Caligula silenced the room again. The lights flickered and shadows bounced. The five occupants stared about themselves. Cassius continued pacing behind his seat. Caligula huffed and sat bent over the table, his head in his hands. Valencia crossed her legs and started counting the threads in the carpet. Dante fidgeted, and started messing with his pencil. Even Augustus looked uneasy, tapping the table and watching the faces of the others.

It continued for a long, long while. The past is a dangerous place, full of events best not remembered. When they surface, they drag themselves through time and plant their uneasiness at the feet of their holders. Spilled out from the hearts and minds of man, they become subject to scrutiny and rearrangement. Sometimes this is good and they become changed into something positive. Most of the time, though, they are tormented and beaten until the horrors rise again.

It was Cassius who broke the tension.

“Dante's right. What happened then, could happen again to us. He deserves to know, and we deserve closure. I say we tell it out now. I'll do it, if you two can't.”

In unison, Valencia and Caligula blurted out a solid “No!” Valencia sat up and smoothed out her dress. “I mean, we'll take turns. We each saw different things, you know.”

“Yes, my thoughts exactly. You can start though, Cassius. I was a little out of it after we had reached the city.”

“Right. So I'll begin from when we had just reached our defensive position inside the Bastion of the Damned...”

Author's Note

A little note: I went back and changed the ranks into their, roughly, equivalent traditional Roman ones. Caligula is the Decurion (Roman cavalry commander). Cassius is still the Legate. The Navy kept their modern ranks. Dante is the Optio (roughly a Roman Lieutenant), and Augustus is a Evocatus Medicus (Evocatus is a discharged soldier who was renlisted, roughyl. Medicus is a medical soldier)

Reviews

[Von Alis]

Keep writing because I can't stop reading! So far my favorite character is Dante, for no really particular reason... Maybe I am too soft, like my Cadet Sergeant says, but I can't criticize this! It's just too good! This story is great, keep writing!