Daniel Ottalini - Brass Legionnaire

He was still seeking a competent decision when the faintwhir of an airship’s engines reached him. He cocked his head, trying to drownout the sounds of the wounded and dying men nearby, and the sea far below. Agust of wind pushed the clouds farther out, unveiling the prow of a grayairship, slicing through the last clouds toward the platform.

“Remain here; keep those sheep penned in,” he called toFustus, his newly-appointed subordinate.

The man’s lips curled in a tight smile and he sent the mento spread out facing the beleaguered remnants of the Roman cohort and pepperthe formation with heavy repeater darts, trying to find a weak spot in theformation.

Corbus’s boots crunched over the film of dried sea salt andsand that had built up along the wall top. Years of salt and rain had donesurprisingly little damage to the wall, but with the recent conflict, themaintenance men hadn’t reached this stretch to clean it and reseal it. Hepeered up at the floating ship as it grew larger and larger. Finally able tomake out the engine design, he smiled. It was the Midgard Flyer . Hewaved at the cockpit and someone on the bridge waved in return. The airshipcontinued its ponderous progress, rising slightly as it came over the low lipof the landing pad. Already he could see a hatch opening along its gray-paintedside, revealing a dark but nonetheless inviting interior.

Turning, Corbus called out to his men, “Fall back to thelanding pad. It’s high time we left this den of corruption! Let our retributionbe felt for an age.” He sneered at the Romans cowering within their shieldedformation. It won’t matter how protected they think they are. Soon thiswhole city shall deal with the wrath of our movement, our peoples. Deus ExMortalitas!

“But why do I have to come with you?” came a whine from thesmall huddle of civilians the rebels had brought with them. Chalbys had beenamong that lucky group. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to remain here,providing you with information and passing instructions to our followers?”

Corbus frowned. He disliked the monocle-eyed, sniveling,luxury-loving spymaster, and everything he represented. “My mother seems tobelieve that the cause would be better served by having you join us.” Hewaved a hand toward the remaining rebels, now cautiously backing away towardthe ship. “Besides, every truly loyal rebel is here with us, now. We juststaged an insurrection, and if those loyalists have any brains, which this commanderdoes, they will be looking for anyone with a connection to the rebellion. So itwould really be foolish to leave a valuable person like you behind.” He smiledcondescendingly. You cowardly wimp . Seemingly resigned to his fate,Chalbys sighed, and trudged toward the airship with the rest of the civilians.

With a soft crunch and bump, the Midgard Flyer touched down behind them. Several air marines stepped out, slim crossbows andshort swords held at the ready. They fanned out to cover the remaining rebelsas they retreated toward the ship. Corbus smiled. They were getting out of thisforsaken place. There was nothing here for them anymore. And soon, there wouldbe nothing left here for anyone, anymore.

Many of his men were boarding the airship when disasterstruck.

A battle cry rose beyond the isolated Roman detachment,heralding the entrance of a new opponent: a new batch of Roman legionnaires,racing along the wall, weapons at the ready.

Amalia had not retreated toward the ship when the call hadcome, remaining instead at her position on the wall. She stood rooted bysurprise for a moment, then lifted her weapon, and the dance of death began inearnest.

Chalbys and Fustus cried out in alarm at thelegionnaires’ arrival. The situation had rapidly changed from one of playfullytoying with the surrounded Roman detachment to being suddenly outnumbered. Withmost of their men embarked, there were few men left to help their leader. Theair marines’ cordon was shrinking as they hastily converged on their onlyescape, leaving the three ringleaders out in the open.

Chalbys glanced at Fustus. “All is lost, but we cannot allowher to fall,” Chalbys offered. Fustus looked worried, his face etched withlines of concentration. They looked at Corbus.

Hard pressed to hold back the overwhelming tide of thelegionary force, Amalia was a blur whose touch left injury and death. Then,mobbed by at least ten different legionnaires, she went down. Those on thelanding platform about fifty yards away heard her cry out. With an involuntarygasp, Corbus stepped forward, only to see his mother’s opponents flying in alldirections. One hurtled off the wall into open space, plummeting toward thecity below. She fought to stand again, heavily favoring her right side.

Corbus pulled his swords out, but both of the other men wereone step ahead of him. For the first time in his life, Corbus felt himselfbeing manhandled, each man grasping an arm as they fought to prevent him fromthe suicide of charging into the enemy ranks. Despite Chalbys’s weakappearance, his grip was like an iron vise.

“We … can’t … lose … you … too. We’d have losteverything for no gain!” gasped Fustus as they wrestled the frantic assassintoward the safety of the ship.

As he fought to go to the aid of his mother, Corbus saw theremnants of the original Roman detachment finally regain their nerve andadvance on the airship, moving in good order. The last few air marines stoodnearby, one firing his crossbow at the legionnaires who had managed to get around Amalia’s human blockade. The man let out a scream as he fell,attracting more attention to the grounded ship. The Romans were getting closer,their feet pounding on the parapet.

“We can’t stay here, sir! You’ll just die like your mother,”Fustus growled.

Over the man’s shoulder, Corbus watched Amalia fighting likea cornered tiger. His face felt wet, and he realized he was crying. Hisso-called allies were dragging him away from helping his mother , theonly family member he had even known. “Come on, Mother!” he screamed, tryingdesperately to get her to leave with them.

Amalia turned to look at him. For a moment, their eyesconnected, and Corbus felt as though a huge weight had been transferred to hisshoulders. Her eyes were full of love and zeal, full of anger andprotectiveness. With that last glance, she turned to continue her defense,backing slowly toward the landing pad while keeping as many Imperials as busyas possible.

Chalbys and Fustus bundled Corbus onto the relative safetyof the airship. Behind them, the last marine leapt onto the deck and rang abell. The tone of the ship’s engines changed as it went buoyant and begangaining altitude.

Below them, the Romans who had nearly reached them threw avolley of plumbatae at the rapidly retreating ship, but most of themetal bolts clanked off the bottom of the decking. One came close enough forCorbus to hear its passage before it rebounded off a nearby post and back intospace, its warhead fizzling without exploding.

Chalbys and Fustus remained beside Corbus as he stood on thedeck, regardless of the assurances he had given them that he no longer wishedto take on half the Roman army single-handed. All he could do now was watch asthe Romans surrounded and overwhelmed his mother. His heart felt as though itwas being ripped out of his chest.

The figures on the landing platform shrank as the MidgardFlyer gained altitude. Claxons began to wail. Corbus was dimly aware ofanother airship approaching. His full attention remained on the fight. It wasas if he was watching a tragic drama from the cheap seats; heart pounding, theyoung man could do nothing but watch and see what happened as the red-coatedfigures surrounded the brown-coated one.

“Move forward! Quickly-we’ve got to reach that landingplatform and destroy that airship!” Constantine ordered.