Septimius Justus
Jun 26th, 2012, 10:14:39 PM
The ancient, dessicated skeleton of the town that was once called Tonopah, Nevada stood out clearly from the flat basin it sat in. Too small to be touched by atomic fires of the Great War, it was nevertheless in ruins. Whether from neglect or scavenging, the ramshackle buildings of the town stood as gutted, mute witness to the comings and goings of untold numbers of survivors in the Mojave Wastes. Now, Tonopah would stand witness to darker events.
"Salve, Centurion!"
Septimius Justus paused in the midst of surveying the carnage before him, and turned to the man addressing him. The wild tuft of red horse hair jutting from the back of his football helmet identified him as an Equitus, a mounted legionary. Used sparingly, the Equites crossed vast distance on motorcycles, providing a valuable link between the seat of Legionary power in Flagstaff, Arizona, and the far flung territories the Legion controlled.
Septimius tapped a fist to his armor, and extended his hand forward to reciprocate the salute.
"News?"
The mounted courier quickly dipsensed with the pleasantries, handing the Centurion a dingy envelope. Septimius snatched the letter out from within, and unfolded it, scanning over the latin text. Pacing as he read, his gait soon stopped in its tracks. Carefully, he folded the letter up again.
"From Hoover Dam."
His face creased into a grimace as he balled the paper up slowly.
"Our Imperator is dead."
The Equitus was not prepared to hear this, and blurted out.
"...Caesar?"
Septimius nodded.
"The Legate too."
The balled up paper in his hand, he allowed to fall to the dust, where it was quickly tumbled away by wind. The Centurion resumed walking, heading back to his Cohort's camp.
"Our invasion of New Vegas has been crushed."
Mars was pissing on all of them. Two battles. Two defeats. Dashed to pieces against the walls of Hoover Dam. And now...Caesar dead. Who would lead the Legion without their great father? More presently, what would become of their mission? To march to New Reno, the second bastion of the New California Republic's eastern hegemony? Was he to be recalled to Flagstaff too, with his tail between his legs like a whipped dog? Further, who remained to call him?
Septimius turned around. The equitus was still waiting for orders.
"Paper. Pen. Quickly!"
These items were immediately presented, and Septimius didn't even bother making it back to his tent to write his missive. He walked to the ruined walls of a building, pressed the paper against a board, and scribbled.
To Vulpes Inculta
Mars guide this letter to your hand. I have heard just now of our defeat at Hoover Dam. With the deaths of our great Caesar and his Legate, the authority of the fasces falls to you. I acknowledge you as Imperator, and in faith of your command, I now double my pace to New Reno, to open a second front against our enemy.
Legio Vincit Omnae
Septimus Justus
Centurion Primus Pilus II Cohors
The letter was signed, and pressed firmly into the equitus's hands.
"Flagstaff. All speed!"
The mounted legionary nodded and snapped a salute, stuffing the letter into an envelope as he returned to his motorcycle.
"Ave, Centurion. I ride."
With a roar, the motorcycle flared to life, and the courier sped along the dusty expanse, headed back the long distance to Arizona.
"Salve, Centurion!"
Septimius Justus paused in the midst of surveying the carnage before him, and turned to the man addressing him. The wild tuft of red horse hair jutting from the back of his football helmet identified him as an Equitus, a mounted legionary. Used sparingly, the Equites crossed vast distance on motorcycles, providing a valuable link between the seat of Legionary power in Flagstaff, Arizona, and the far flung territories the Legion controlled.
Septimius tapped a fist to his armor, and extended his hand forward to reciprocate the salute.
"News?"
The mounted courier quickly dipsensed with the pleasantries, handing the Centurion a dingy envelope. Septimius snatched the letter out from within, and unfolded it, scanning over the latin text. Pacing as he read, his gait soon stopped in its tracks. Carefully, he folded the letter up again.
"From Hoover Dam."
His face creased into a grimace as he balled the paper up slowly.
"Our Imperator is dead."
The Equitus was not prepared to hear this, and blurted out.
"...Caesar?"
Septimius nodded.
"The Legate too."
The balled up paper in his hand, he allowed to fall to the dust, where it was quickly tumbled away by wind. The Centurion resumed walking, heading back to his Cohort's camp.
"Our invasion of New Vegas has been crushed."
Mars was pissing on all of them. Two battles. Two defeats. Dashed to pieces against the walls of Hoover Dam. And now...Caesar dead. Who would lead the Legion without their great father? More presently, what would become of their mission? To march to New Reno, the second bastion of the New California Republic's eastern hegemony? Was he to be recalled to Flagstaff too, with his tail between his legs like a whipped dog? Further, who remained to call him?
Septimius turned around. The equitus was still waiting for orders.
"Paper. Pen. Quickly!"
These items were immediately presented, and Septimius didn't even bother making it back to his tent to write his missive. He walked to the ruined walls of a building, pressed the paper against a board, and scribbled.
To Vulpes Inculta
Mars guide this letter to your hand. I have heard just now of our defeat at Hoover Dam. With the deaths of our great Caesar and his Legate, the authority of the fasces falls to you. I acknowledge you as Imperator, and in faith of your command, I now double my pace to New Reno, to open a second front against our enemy.
Legio Vincit Omnae
Septimus Justus
Centurion Primus Pilus II Cohors
The letter was signed, and pressed firmly into the equitus's hands.
"Flagstaff. All speed!"
The mounted legionary nodded and snapped a salute, stuffing the letter into an envelope as he returned to his motorcycle.
"Ave, Centurion. I ride."
With a roar, the motorcycle flared to life, and the courier sped along the dusty expanse, headed back the long distance to Arizona.