Fide Sanguinis Usque In Sempiternum

When I asked the man where exactly we were going, all he said was, "Right this way, Decanus" in an emotionless but authoritative tone. We approached a large wire enclosed compound with a sign that said, "Schola Decanus." I assumed this was where I would learn how to be a "Decanus," whatever that meant. In the administration shack, a legionary in light armor and tribal face tattoos stood up from a desk and said, "Ave, Centurion. True to Caesar!"

The Centurion told the administrator person that I was an Honorary Decanus, and that I was to be put in the "3rd phase" unit. Just like that, a legionary in the corner of the room stood up and escorted me out the door and across the way to an armory. There, another soldier in a room lined with trunks and lockers gave me: a red tunic, black leather kilt, black combat boots reinforced with metal shin guards, a bulky chest piece that looked like old football pads welded with steel plates and leather straps, a burlap sack, a brown leather backpack, black leather bracers, an old football style helmet patched with steel and a familiar plume of red and black feathers coming out of it, a black bandana, two canteens, sleeping bag, and a pair of tinted goggles. Based on all the gear in my arms, I concluded those men leading patrols were Decanuses (Decanae?). The armory was also where I turned over everything I had on me including some medicinal chems I had from a first aid box that Doc gave me. All my contraband was immediately placed in the trash, and once I had all my stuff, the centurion came in behind motioning for me to follow.

They put me in a barracks room with seven other Decanus trainees and that was that. I had to talk to the other trainees that evening when they approached me like wolves eying a piece of meat. They looked ready to haze me or something, but backed off when the first words out of my mouth explained I was here under direct order from Caesar. I didn't do much talking with the other trainees that night, but doing so was intimidating. Some of them had been thrown into Legion soldier camps as kids or teens, and survived enough battles to be field promoted to "Recruit Decanus." This school was where they would learn to be a, "Prime Decanus." Others were former warriors from dead tribes conscripted into the Legion, and spilled enough blood in its name to be placed in this school. When they asked about me, I told them that I was an agent of Phoenix that is here to serve Caesar. None of them even knew where Phoenix was. All they told me after that was to be ready to go next morning when the horn calls. I didn't want to be late for anything the Legion was in charge of, so I slept that night in all the gear the armorer gave me. After a few hours of uneasy sleep, the next morning officially started when the horn called. I sprinted out the door putting my helmet on and face covering as I moved. Even though the others slept in only their garments; as soon as I left the door, they were right behind me.

A Veteran Decanus stood by and we assembled in front of him while he shouted at us. When he asked who I was, I explained that I was the "Honorary Decanus" appointed to this training "contubernium" by Caesar. The Veteran remembered, and took out a golden paint marker to write "HON-DEC" across my chest piece. The sun just started to rise over Flagstaff as our next order was to sprint around the yard in full gear, doing exercises in between laps. We filled up our water every hour doing the same thing for almost 3 hours until the sun was overhead. Though I was already fairly fit from life in the wastes, I had never been more exhausted doing that much exercise in my life. Towards the end of that last hour, I collapsed to the ground. The veteran started shouting at me to "GET UP!" and the rest of the class started beating me with their fists or kicking me for what felt like forever. However, two minutes later, the trainees dragged me to my feet and shouted at me through their masks, "KEEP MOVING!"

At the end of our last lap, we formed in front of the veteran and he shouted right in my face, "CAESAR DOES NOT ACCEPT FAILURE, DECANUS!" The veteran pronounced "Caesar" like, "Kai-zar" which I eventually learned was strangely the standard pronunciation throughout the Legion.

From there, we split into groups of two in the yard while other training units did their drills and exercises. Two dull machetes were tossed between the groups and the Veteran shouted, "FIGHT!" I was caught off guard and the guy I was paired with smacked my helmet with the machete creating a loud *Crack*. I fought the guy in front of me the best I could. I had never fought with a machete before, so my adversary whacked me repeatedly, bruising my arms, sides, and cracking the weaker parts of my armor in multiple places. I got a few good hits in, but these guys had been fighting with spears or machetes for years, thus making me no match for them. Dull machete or not, being exhausted and repeatedly getting battered by dull steel is a very painful feeling.

Luckily, the horn blew soon enough and our contubernium marched into the large wooden building in the west end of the facility for food. It was an average tribal meal served by slaves, but I was just happy to be sitting down without the threat of a beating. The meal consisted of maize, razorgrain, and a cut of brahmin meat. As I took the moment of rest to rub my heavily bruised appendages, the legionary across the table studied me. This was the first time I'd seen my comrades faces since the previous evening. The guy looking at me was a dark-skinned tribal man with black face tattoos and a puzzled yet angry expression. He caught my eye and said brokenly;

"You make it clear you not warrior."

Looking back down at my food I said, "Yeah, wasn't really expecting I'd be here."

He said, "You learn to fight better, or you die before you prove self to Kaizar (Caesar)."

I said, "Yeah, you're right. I'm much better with a pistol or rifle. Never really fought anyone with a machete before" and shrugged.

The legionary's face contorted to an even angrier one, but said almost sympathetically, "Guns are coward way of killing. Old machines die faster than blades."

Looking at him I said, "I guess you're right about that. With guns you gotta worry about jams, rust, repairs, cleaning, and other shit."

He grinned, "You see it right. You need get better with blades, lucky for you we go to gun range next."

I asked, "What about the machetes or spears? You sad it yourself, 'guns are coward way of killing' right?"

The legionary said, "Not all Kaizar enemies have honor; so, guns fight guns, blades kill cowards." He saw my confused expression and searched his mind for better words.

The guy clearly only started learning English recently. "Every Decanus use guns first, blades second. Legionaries swarm enemies, Decanus kill from range."

It clicked and I said, "Oh I get it, it's a tactical move. A couple gunners per group can suppress from range so the legionaries can get in close to kill."

First time I ever seen a legionary smile when he said, "Right! You see it right. Still, blades never fail when you need them, only dull… I beat you in fight. I show blade fighting trick back at hut?"

I smiled, "Ok, sounds good. It would be great to get some pointers back at the barracks."

Just then, our veteran came to our table and told us to move out. We marched with him out of the compound to a range down the street. The range was enclosed in between buildings with a bunch of steel target situated in the ruins of a concrete structure down range. Our veteran stood by and observed while the instructor showed us which weapons to use, and a basic intro on how to operate them. We fired them four of us at a time. We fired down range first with 9mm pistols. I wasn't sure if I was hitting the targets, but the legionaries around me began to notice that I actually knew what I was doing. Most, if not all of these Legionaries had never fired guns before, and fought through battles carrying either a spear or machete. So, as the time at the gun range went on, it became clear that the instructor was only really interested how the trainees handled the weapons as opposed to their true accuracy. The legionary in the mess hall was right in how guns came second for tribal warfare. The main purpose of gunners in a Legion contubernium was to suppress the enemy so the swarm of blade wielders could get close enough to do their work.

Next at the range were the 10mm submachine guns. Again, most of them didn't have any real idea what they were doing. Finally, we fired old .357 repeaters. I nailed my first couple targets with the long lever actions. I was best with rifles or shotguns. After cycling through the firearms a few more times, I managed to confirm my theories on the Legion battle plan. It was clear that I had the most experience with firearms out of the whole group and took satisfaction in the thought that I was at least good at something. So, we marched back to the school itself.

During that march, and just as I started feeling good about myself, the veteran hit me with some words clearly and angrily backed by years of war and killing, "Get better with blades, Decanus! Guns will fail you when you need them most!"

Back at the school, we fought with blades for another hour and I could tell I was getting better despite my bruised arms and legs. Then, we headed into a large tent with a chalkboard at the end, and chairs set in rows before it; clearly some kind of classroom. Our veteran then began to go over tactics with us. The other trainees already had numerous experiences with it, but he covered the Legion's standard battle plan in great detail. There were a lot of individual roles for the different officers, and variations of the plan, but the standard assault basically involved: Swarming the enemy with conscripted cannon fodder and tribal auxiliaries. Then, a "Century" or larger "Cohort" would crush the enemy when they were good and tired with the Legion's elite forces, like highly trained veterans and even "battle centurion" units if necessary.

So, half the class was tactics and basic squad/contubernium leadership, and the other half was knowledge or even touch ups on English. The knowledge lessons included: Roles of the legionary, necessity of slavery, why women are bad, why tribals are naturally evil, how assimilated tribes are "saved" by the Legion, how Caesar is going to save the world, and why we all owe everything we have to Caesar. At the end, our veteran said that my recitation of "The Oath of the Legionary" was on his schedule. I was stood up, brought to the front of the class, and repeated after the veteran;

"I am forever in debt to my Lord Caesar for saving me from my primitive tribal ways. I will serve him till my dying breath for he is the one Mars sent to bring humanity back from the ashes of the old world. I will be the weapon of Caesar and destroy all his enemies, for his are my own. I will never surrender in battle and choose death before capture no matter the circumstance. In the event I fail Caesar; I will die a shameful and humiliating death for my disloyalty to the Son of Mars. I will be the devout servant and merciless warrior that Lord Caesar has trusted I be. Because of my servitude, I will live forever as part of the Golden Bull. Fide sanguinis usque in sempiternum." (Loyalty in blood forever)

*slits hand*