Water Under the Bridge Part I
Four Weeks after the fall of the Guerreros - Late 2269
It took Montano and his 32nd Century nearly three weeks to reach the township of Gallup New Mexico. After such a long and successful campaign under the Legate, the unit arrived outside the town and there they set up camp. After dispersing orders to do their duty at the local Legion breeding camp, the unit was free to partake in all sanctioned activities in their respite time while maintaining unit readiness. Montano, still recovering from his broken left arm that lay in a sling, dismissed his soldiers and appointed his staff's Senior as the temporary commander of the century while he went his separate way to survey the land he'd been granted as well as meet the Circle Junction courier in Shiprock. With a small staff consisting of his newest Vexillarius he named "Falco", two veterans he'd been granted as replacements for battlefield losses, and his two personal slave women, he set off north. Following the old road labeled "491" from Gallup to the Newcomb area was a long hike, but he and the company he was with (including the slave sisters) were used to 12 hour marches through the New Mexico territory at a quick pace. The trek was even smoother since this part of New Mexico had long since been under Legion control and the 491 road was largely maintained if not by the Legion, then by the allied towns of Shiprock and Gallup that frequently traded with each other using the old road.
The location of Montano's new land near Newcomb was seated just south of the town of twelve residents but was almost right in between the two settlements along that busy caravan route and closer to another minuscule settlement called Sheep Springs. The short march from Gallup didn't take more than a solid 3 days, but along the way, they passed several other small shacks marked as being owned by other Legion officers who'd yet to visit their recently gifted lands. It was clear just from that journey how many rewards were given by the Legion's elite to new heroes of the ended New Mexico Campaign.
Upon arrival at the marked location of Montano's new little homestead, the place was only identified as such by a Bull marked wooden sign just off the 491 that said, "Property of the Legion. Overseer: Centurion Montano - 32nd Century" below that read, "- Per Legatus Imperialis Joshua Graham, as of 10 October 2269" similar in design to the other homestead markers they passed. Just like the others, the sign was surrounded by other smaller signs that said how removal or alteration of the ownership sign without consent of territorial overseer was punishable by death for wasters in Legion territory.
Looking past the sign, Montano and his party could see the small little shack in the distance that had been prebuilt after Joshua Graham sent his land grant to the Praetor of Circle Junction, as was standard after such a gift. The property was not much. Other than a decaying wooden fence from the prewar days, the shack sat alone in the middle of a whole lot of open plains and shrubbery. This wasn't an unusual display for the region they were in, and the scarcity of anything else involved in the land gift was also standard. As mentioned in previous chapters, the land bestowments were left for the inheritor of the gift to do with as he saw fit. When asking for land after notable actions, a Legion officer took it as a task to further benefit the Legion. Like in the early days of the Legion, it wasn't uncommon for notable officers and heroes of the Legion to take their gifted lands and build upon them during respite, and eventually, such places subtly morphed into the kind of breeding camps, slave or soldier indoctrination centers, and even farms that helped sustain the Legion's endless wars. Many places like that eventually fell under the direct control of the Legion's governance over the years when the gifted was killed in battle or even when the fronts shifted too far from those original ones in upper Arizona. At the time however, New Mexico had recently fallen completely under Legion control, and places like Montano's new home were springing up all over the old world state.
Though Montano was an abnormal person in his mindset, many would have sought the kind of place that Montano was gifted, largely due to its relative proximity to Circle Junction and even the border of Colorado. The site of Montano's new land made it entirely possible for him to return to the place on any prolonged respite period and build upon it when he wasn't campaigning in Colorado. What was originally seen as a place and means of dumping the slave women he found most irritating, turned into something else when he saw the land and contemplated the possibilities of how it can be used to serve Caesar.
Montano and his party stayed at the shack and set up their small camp overnight. The shack itself was sturdy enough to handle the dust storms and made of sheet metal and scrap wood like many other wasteland shacks. It was relatively bare on the inside save for a rickety wooden table that must've been nearby or left by the slave builders since there was nothing atop it minus a lantern that was only partially full of oil. The shack was windowless and Montano decided to unroll his sleeping mat beside the house next to his staff's individual marching tents rather than inside the thing since Clara and Raquel were busy irritating him by loudly discussing the "Possibilities" of that bare interior. Although, something slightly changed in him as he slept under the stars. He woke up just before the sun rose and began walking the limits of the property. As he looked at the shack seated in the middle of the desert, he decided then and there to Not lock Clara and Raquel inside the thing. Instead, he roamed the land until the sun began to glimmer over the east and considered many new facilities that could be built upon it. Though he could not decide whether or not he wanted the new land to eventually form the basis of a breeding camp, slave farm, or supply point for forces moving to Colorado, he knew the basic necessities of all Legion controlled outposts and decided what he'd do.
Montano had not forgotten the gifted mask, and still had it in the back of his mind. However, with the new ideas from the morning's walk, and after enough thought of how he could use his respite time to further benefit the Legion, he walked back to the shack just as the sisters emerged from it. The staff legionaries began crawling out of their tents and Montano had the slaves start cooking a light breakfast at the small campfire as he wrote out directives for accomplishing his respite aspirations.
Once the sun was above the east, Montano gave the order paper to the logistics administrator of his staff that demanded he return to Gallup and purchase all the provisions, tools, and necessities listed from the local market there. Montano didn't know what the Legion's reserve garrison or slave market was like in Shiprock, but he saw Gallup's when he left his unit there, and the pickup order contained his will to acquire both slaves and soldiers of the "Recuperatio Unitatis" since standard Legion soldiers were almost never sent to keep watch over slave populations of fewer than 10.
It should be quickly noted that soldiers of the "Recuperatio Unitatis" were soldiers of the Legion who experienced some form of injury or wound that was not severe enough to warrant outright execution for uselessness. For example, if a soldier had both his legs blown off in battle and survived, the Legion lacked the tools and even motivation to keep someone who could not walk alive. Their service would be honored before the bullet was issued, and if you read the chapter about soldier camp, you know that the crippled would have wanted that. On the other hand, if a soldier of Caesar had a hand removed or a leg too crippled to participate in a forced march, they'd be sent to the nearest garrison of soldiers in the reserve pool, like the soldiers that watched over allied towns and patrolled territorial roads. Many injuries don't quite heal the same, even after the standard Legion procedures of ample healing powder. When the hand was removed, or when the limb healed in its crude recovery, the soldier still was not the ideal type of soldier to participate in the long marches and battles involved in each campaign. Still, soldiers of every degree, especially in the Legion weren't always completely useless regardless of state. Given how soldiers of the Legion never received the kind of discharge or compensation for wounds like in other militaries, soldiers like that were often useful for keeping watch over an allied township or tribe while still being capable enough to deal with the problems to arise from simple regional patrols. This said, soldiers like that were ideal for officers like Montano who would need Legion eyes on the slaves of a gifted land. Because of that, soldiers of the Recuperatio Unitatis were available for purchase from the local garrison for personal use by officers like Montano in his situation.
With that in mind, Montano handed the veteran decanus his list of supplies, tools, building materials, slaves, and soldiers to buy, then the amount of money he deemed reasonable, and the officer headed off.
It may also be necessary to briefly explain how Legion soldiers were paid, at least during the times of this story. Simply put; legionaries were not paid while officers were. Again referring to the camp chapter, Caesar did not have paid soldiers. Caesar had soldiers who fought and died for him purely because there was no other option or motivation for anything else in their minds. Because of this, the officers, usually prime decanus and upwards were the ones who had to deal with those who were not Legion. While camped near an allied township, the centurion was responsible for ensuring his unit had what it needed and so there was a fund for the purchase of such provisions from locals if the resources couldn't be foraged from the land or if the unit was too far from a Legion resupply outpost. This fund was separate from individual officer payment which was usually given based on notable deeds in battle, or after a campaign. The Decani were paid by their centurion for such actions, Centurions were rewarded by their Cohort's Legate or Elite, and each soldier was free to spend their duty rewards as they saw fit. Officers with personal funds usually spent it on personal servants at places like the auction, or it was spent on equipment or resources from non-Legion people for various reasons as in Montano's case. Officers also used their personal funds as a means of allocating specific resources or soldiers, like how Montano acquired Falco in his staff despite the boy originally belonging to a separate unit with a surviving commander. Either way, there were many ways of keeping Legion money in the Legion, and much of this was because interaction with outsiders was a delicate responsibility of all officers that money usually served as the best resource for... In most cases.
Contrary to common view of the Legion, Caesar had no intention of making enemies with anyone he did not directly wish to subjugate, and this meant that cooperation and exchange was necessary with allied tribes and towns. If Caesar wanted some particular resource from a town, as the dictator, he could choose to demand it right then and there with the alternative being annihilation. However, he found it more beneficial most of the time to compensate people in towns like that if not for humanity then for simple focus on other conquests. Still though, Caesar himself was not everywhere at once, and since Legion centuries and garrisons operated all over the southwest, Centurions and officers had an obligation to cooperate with locals as much as possible unless Caesar deemed otherwise. A centurion could get in a lot of trouble and face almost certain death if they create too much hostility in a nearby populace that Caesar or someone like Graham didn't sanction. This idea is worth keeping in mind for later reasons, but the best means of countering the possibility of worsening an allied people's relations with the Legion was by direct compensation in the form of Legion currency. As shown in chapter 1, this image of the Legion and idea of cooperation with allied peoples was part of the reason for the duelists' feud in the first place.
Centurion Theracos sent Aleron to arrest Montano under the allegation that Montano defamed the image of the Legion in Gold Canyon. If you remember correctly and as you've been reading so far, it was not possible in Montano's mind to even consider defaming the Legion. Montano lived to bring glory to the Legion, and because of this, he despised the corrupted natures of those who weren't Caesar's servants. Still, Montano was a Centurion now, and this meant that he Was the word of Caesar wherever he found himself. This was a true statement for centurions operating in their own territories separate from Caesar's direct eye, so long as they kept true to his law in Legion lands. With every intention of upholding Caesar's peace with the allied in Legion territory, Montano sent his staff veteran to cooperate with the merchants of Gallup by the intent of paying full price for the goods he wanted and to peacefully begin building upon his entrusted land. Still, as the upholder of Caesar's laws, Centurion Montano packed up the rest of his staff and marched north to the allied town of Shiprock to receive his other gift for exceptional service. There he had no ideas other than maintaining the orders a Centurion was entrusted with, and heading back to his new respite home.
Shiprock fell directly under the jurisdictional control of Circle Junction's Praetor.
It again wasn't more than 3 days before Montano arrived in Shiprock with his small party. The place was a small little town much like the other ones dotting New Mexico that was largely spared from the bombs due to its insignificance in the old world. Still, places that were passed over by the super nations of old were so important in the days of the Legion since large communities of mostly cooperative people sprung up around such places. The vast openness of the southwest and the amount of miles between any tribe or places of civility gave new towns like Shiprock an importance that again wasn't lost to Caesar.
Montano remembered seeing that enormous mountain jutting up from the flat plains and desert on the way into town and learned the reason for the town's name. Marching up the 491 into the limits of Shiprock, his party passed the line of crosses along that final stretch into town and saw the first Legion outpost at the edge of the community. The sun had finally set and Montano checked in with the local garrison at that outpost just as the night lamps turned on across the town.
After checking in with the local commander, a veteran decanus of the Reserve Pool, Montano was able to refill his party's supplies and was only just able to get rest accommodations for his group since the outpost was nearly full. Laying out their bedrolls in a hovel for passing forces, Montano learned the reason for the packed nature of the small outpost. Apparently, there was an enormous auction in Circle Junction very recently and so the outpost was full of those Legion officers, mostly Decani, who were returning to their units across upper New Mexico. Once he and his party laid out their essentials in the busy outpost, Montano instructed his staff to accompany the slave women at their request to "Experience the town." Montano had no interest in joining the women and relished the idea of time away from them. So, the staff followed the women out of the outpost, further into the town of allied dissolutes, and Montano took that time to further plan out his land aspirations by lantern light. There at a nearby table in the busy hovel, Montano wrote out and sketched plans to use his respite time in the most Legion beneficial way possible until he felt it was time to authorize himself some sleep.
Montano awoke sometime before midnight to a decanus of the outpost asking pardon for the disturbance. The soldier began explaining an urgent situation just outside the outpost gates and Montano sprung up not even bothering to get completely dressed. Upon stepping outside the gates of the outpost, Montano saw the lights and heard the faint noise coming from further in town, but Montano's focus was brought to the gates for a separate matter. There outside the gates, Montano saw his staff standing beside a bent telephone pole that had two wasters of the town nearly unconscious and chained to it. As Montanolooked over the display, his eyes floated towards the women who were standing slightly behind his two staff officers in a cowering state. At Montano's simple words, "What is the meaning of this?" Montano was told by his Veteran Liason that the two drunks had attempted to sell the women some drugs on their way out of town. Falco then took that as his cue to show his commander the small sack filled with various drugs as evidence for the crime.
Now it should quickly be mentioned that Caesar largely didn't care if the people of his land did drugs, but attempting to sell or distribute drugs to soldiers or slaves of the Legion, or even being seen under the influence of them in a town under the Legion banner was a crime punishable in the worst of ways. Drug use could get a person 50 lashes with a barbed whip and the forced extraction of the distributor's name, but attempts to sell to soldiers of the Legion was to be met with 100 lashes and a hanging or crucifixion.
As Montano took in the news and marveled at the stupidity of two wasters doing such a thing in a town that'd been under Legion control for nearly 7 years, he looked at the two beaten and half-unconscious men just in time to witness one of them vomit on himself as his head sunk lower in its place. Montano didn't see the dissolutes that fell under Caesar's mercy often since he'd been on campaign for so long, but what he saw that night disgusted him to his core. In fact, Montano felt so repulsed by their sight and state that he could look no more at the pathetic displays before him and left the scene with the words, "I'll see to this in the morning." When Montano arrived back at the hovel, he immediately went to sleep again and later heard the sound of his women and staff taking their places on the bedrolls beside him just before passing out.
Morning eventually came and just before the sun was up, Montano was already dressed and equipped for the day. He did not forget what happened last night, so the first thing he did upon leaving the hovel was ask around the Shiprock outpost for the municipal garrison's commander. Upon meeting with the veteran decanus he and his group checked in with, Montano was informed that the decanus himself was the head authority for the soldiers watching over Shiprock and that he reported to the Praetor of Circle Junction on local activities and incidents. At this time, the decanus was made aware of the incident last night and informed Montano that he would ensure the criminals' delivery to Circle Junction in chains at the end of the day as part of the garrison's scheduled rotation. Montano however was not satisfied with that. Images of those wretches offering his servants and officers drugs and their putrid state last night danced across his vision. Montano then asked if there was a centurion of the Shiprock garrison but the decanus explained how he technically belonged under "Centurion Cassius" who oversaw the patrols of towns under Circle Junction's umbrella from the city itself. It was in that conversation that Montano learned he was the highest-ranked soldier in Shiprock itself and that he could enact Legion law if he saw fit. If Montano couldn't be troubled or had other focus, the decanus of the outpost assured Montano that the criminals would be escorted to Circle Junction in chains. Montano was ready to let it be, but then the image of those wretches vomiting on themselves flashed in his mind again and he ordered the decanus to gather the garrison of Shiprock for a display.
Just as the sun rose, Montano collected his party from the hovel and met with the wasters chained to the pole. The drug-pushing wasters asked the legionaries for some water and had more than a few questions about what happened last night. The criminals clearly experienced something the dissolute call a "Blackout" since the men still wreaked of alcohol but still protested terribly when some of the garrison soldiers unchained the men. Through shouts and pleads, the men had no idea what they did last night or the reason they were being dragged to town by the legionaries. Still, Montano clenched his fists at each sound of protest that even morphed into insults toward Caesar. Neither ignorance of actions or protest of any kind could help the two men, and Montano was ready to show an example of what dissolute actions will cause.
Montano led the way as the decanus marched those 80+ legionaries of the local force further into town. When they reached the main street, Montano ordered Clara and Raquel to take the lead with instructions to take the men to the sight of the drug offer. The beaten and half dehydrated criminals began swearing profusely when the women approached the spot and the ruckus caused many of the townspeople to follow along to see what was happening. The women led Montano and the criminals to a small alley between a common house and a general store just down the street from the market. There in the broad daylight, Montano ordered the criminals to be bound to a phone pole and a lamppost right in front of the alley. The men kicked and shouted but were gagged by their prime escort as the decanus formed up the municipal garrison across the main street as more and more residents of the town approached the scene. Some exited that "Common house" which Montano knew first hand was the type of place that used to be a bar before Legion occupation and more people stuck their heads out of the windows to see the criminals. Some must've known the men chained to those poles because murmurs in the crowd speculated several names that were easily lost in the noise. When the municipal garrison was standing in formation, the veteran decanus gave a gesture, and two prime decani stepped forward with whips in hand. When they were within ten feet of Montano, he raised his hand ordering them to halt and the men lowered the whips. Montano took the whip from one of them ready to do the deed himself, but the public spectacle seemingly required something else.
Montano faced the two with their backs exposed to him, whip in hand, but he halted himself and addressed the crowd;
"People of Shiprock!..."
The crowd went even more quiet, "... My Lord Caesar has let you all, all of you, live your lives apart from his ambitions of glory! This is a privilege that is NOT to be abused in the absence of his direct watch!..."
He scanned the dirt smudged and sunken faces across the crowd and looked back at the block of masked faces off to his left, "... These men, these 'things' poison themselves in solitude just like many of you I see here and now! Alcohol!? Drugs!? All poisons that will drag those who consume into a pathetic and insignificant grave! Good Riddance too!..."
He paused and looked back at the criminals before resuming, "... The dissolute in Caesar's land are more than free to poison and kill themselves if they deem fit, but any attempts, any idea, any thought about poisoning the servants who bring glory to Caesar will suffer for it!... Is that understood!?"
Montano remained silent for a moment before turning slightly back to the crowd and seeing several wasters nodding from the corner of his eye. The wind slowed and Montano gestured for Falco to bring the sack of contraband. Upon grabbing the bag, he dumped it out around the feet of the men. In the criminals' possession were 4 syringes of Psycho, 3 packs of Mentats, and 3 canisters of a relatively rare drug in the region called "Jet." Though it almost didn't seem possible, the crowd quieted even more as Montano knelt down for the syringes and stuck both criminals in the neck, pressing down on the plungers until the liquids disappeared into their necks. The men screamed into their gags as the vile drugs missed the veins entirely. Montano reached down and used the last two on their necks as well before emptying the jet canisters over their heads. The Centurion was going to force the mentats into the mens' gagged mouths but couldn't seem to open the packaging with his studded gloved hands. Instead, Montano tossed the packaging to Falco with the words, "Save them something for the cross."
The wind picked up slightly and the sun was now higher. After allowing the profligates to indulge in their poisons, Montano gave one last glance back at the silent crowd before reaching down and picking up the barbed whip again. The men were slumped over in their spots with the jet liquid still oozing down their heads. Both men were occasionally convulsing as the "Psycho" worked its way through their circulatory systems and Montano raised the whip. Right before he brought the whip down on the first man, a voice erupted from somewhere in the mass behind him;
"Stop!"
Instinctively, Montano lowered the whip, but when the word was processed, he whipped towards the silent mass of Shiprock scanning for the man who wanted to join the criminals at the post.
"Who the fuck said that!?" Montano screamed.
The Commander didn't have to look long because walking down the lane of the silent legionary formation was a Centurion. Montano could not see the face underneath the black sunglasses but could identify the man of rank by the large fan of feathers across the top of his bulky steel helmet.
The unknown centurion continued his steady approach towards Montano and answered calmly but authoritatively for the silent masses, "I did."
Montano watched the centurion step through the ranks and across the vacant space between Montano and the crowd. One other man walked alongside the centurion, an explorer with the hair of a Twisted Hairs auxilia, but what really stuck out to Montano was the small package in the explorer's arms. Montano heard the words come from the centurion and instantly, Montano lowered the whip as he placed his right fist over his heart;
"Pardon for the hostilities, Centurion. You must be Centurion Cassius whom I hear oversees this township's garrison for the Praetor of this territory..."
The centurion stopped ten paces from Montano and remained silently scanning the scene for a moment before locking his eyes on Montano. Without standard greeting or accepting Montano's request for pardon, Centurion Aleron removed his large helmet and black reflective sunglasses, a sight that made Montano's mouth drop for a split second before catching it.
At sight of the man he hadn't seen in over 6 years, Montano studied his rival as Aleron continued to look over the scene. "Ave, Centurion Aleron. True to Caesar..." came slowly but deliberately from Montano's mouth.
Aleron continued to silently take in the scene, focusing for several long seconds on the chained men before finally landing back on Centurion Montano. Aleron did not return the greeting, instead, he asked Montano directly, "What did those men do?"
Montano squinted at Aleron and removed his helmet as well so both men were absolutely sure that they were looking at the other. Still, Montano responded to the question without looking at them, "Drug pushing and intoxication. Both of those men were caught in the act attempting to sell drugs to my personal servants before my staff apprehended them."
Aleron shifted his gaze towards the crowd before seeing the familiar Clara who hadn't seemed to age, as well as the sister he hadn't met. Both servant women stood beside Montano's staff at the edge of the legionary formation, nodding in agreement with their master despite not hearing the words from their distance.
When Aleron's eyes went back to Montano, he addressed the man, "And did you report the incident to the commander of this municipal garrison?"
Montano leaned his head to the side as he pointed towards the veteran decanus standing in front of the legionary formation. Montano replied, "Yes I di-"
Aleron cut him off, "Did he not inform you that he and this force are scheduled for rotation and that criminals of this town are to be taken to Circle Junction first?"
"Yes he did." replied Montano before adding, "I made the call to enact their punishment after being informed that I am the highest-ranked commander in this town. And do not interrupt me again, Centurion."
Aleron remained silent for a moment after Montano finished. He then replied, "Apologies for the interruption, but such matters fall to the Praetor of Circle Junction, Lord Interfector of Phoenix, who I'm sure you remember."
Montano looked away from his rival momentarily when he was done speaking, unable to conceal a slight chuckle. "That eases my mind," said Montano in what was probably the first sarcastic remark he ever made.
"What do you mean?" Asked Aleron, dead serious and without breaking from his look at the Centurion.
Montano focused back on the man, "I just mean that I'm worried Lord Interfector may extend some form of extrajudicial mercy to those wretches. I just worry that they may not experience the full ramifications of breaking Caesar's law under trial of the Elite. I fear he will be too lenient in such an instance."
"That is not for you to decide in the territory of My Primus..." said Aleron before adding, "I can assure you that those crosses lining the roads into Shiprock were occupied by men and women of lesser infractions... Now, thank you for bringing this instance to My Primus' attention, so stand aside."
Montano stayed silent and did not move as he glanced towards the restrained men still with his whip in hand. When Montano looked back, he saw Aleron had not moved either, but that image of those wretches lying there in their own mess last night resurfaced again. The criminals offered His slaves drugs, they were His to punish. On a trip to receive his gift from the Circle Junction messenger, he could not handle the idea that dissolute trash weren't on their best behavior, especially after the glory he acquired in the successful New Mexico Campaign. Caesar was about to march on Colorado, but THESE were the kinds of people benefitting from the Legion's protection? An ungrateful populace that attempted to poison a renowned Centurion's OWN servants?
Neither man had moved and Montano thought about the gift he was to receive on behalf of Legate Graham himself. Montano finally met the eyes of Aleron again as he asked Aleron, "What brings you to this profligate cesspool anyway?"
Aleron stood in his bold upright position and replied, "I was told you'd be here around this time the second you entered Circle Junction regional limits. I'm here to deliver the mask you've been gifted from Legate Graham..." Aleron paused, but just as he was about to order some of the garrison soldiers to unbind the criminals, Montano said;
"Well, hand over the mask then."
Aleron looked back to him from the legionary formation, taking note that not one person in the crowd had left the scene. When Aleron's eyes met Montano's again, he said, "I will be honored to, but you must stand aside and hand over your criminals to the authority of My Primus."
Instead of moving, Montano gestured towards the box in the explorer's hands, "These men disregarded my authority essentially to my face, I cannot hand them over to you. They disrespected me and my personal honor for what they did to my servants. I Will see that they are punished, personally."
"That is not up to you, Centurion Montano. I am the Interfector's second and these men will be brought before him as his territorial protocol dictates."
Montano thought for a second, still largely collected and calm before saying, "You. You, Centurion Aleron said you were here to deliver the mask. I was the centurion during the criminal incident and I am to uphold the honor of Caesar as I see fit in accordance with his law. I am the eyes of Caesar where he or his Interfector cannot see in this case-"
"You Were, the eyes of Caesar. You Were, the eyes of My Primus where he could not see, but not now. Now, I am here, and I speak on behalf of Lord Interfector in the lands Caesar entrusted him with. I Will be respected and you Will stand aside."
Montano was done trying to justify his perfectly rational stance on the criminal issue for the moment and instead gestured to the box with the mask again, "Legate Graham himself gifted me that mask. Hand it over, Now."
Aleron sneered at Montano, just barely containing his bubbling rage as he said, "Not until you stand-"
But Montano was in no mood to bargain further or have his authority challenged in front of the entire town of Shiprock and municipal garrison.
Immediately, Montano took a step towards the captives and brought the long whip down on both criminals' backs four times before he slammed the whip down on the ground. All done within five seconds, Montano would not be bullied into procedural nonsense, especially by that man, but he acted with the mindset of taking what he could in the window of opportunity presented by Aleron's authority that dominated his own in this technical capacity. The explosion was short and when Montano was through with his short outburst of perceived insubordination, he jolted to face Aleron and shouted;
"FINE! You can take your Fucking criminals. I got what I needed for now, but you better ensure those men are fucking crucified!"
Aleron stood frozen in place as we saw those criminals sink even further into the ground with their backs already horrendously bloody just by those few short lashes. Aleron stood silently for so long that Montano collected himself and stopped huffing and puffing before saying to Aleron, "I Said they're all yours, now take them away or I'll continue."
Aleron in one gesture gave a motion with his hand and four legionaries from the formation knew what to do at the general signal. As the men were untied from the posts, re-chained, and dragged away, Aleron couldn't stop staring at Montano. Aleron stood there thinking for so long about how Montano had flagrantly disregarded his authority, but more importantly, the Praetor of Circle Junction's.
Finally, Montano was the one who broke the silence again as he stared down Aleron, "Give me the mask. Now."
At last, although Aleron could contain his actions, he could not contain his words, "How dare you disregard the authority of Lord Interfector of Phoenix!"
Montano cocked his head to the side in an overly perplexed manner, but that didn't stop him from showing his blood dripping fangs as he replied nearly devoid of any emotion, "I find it amusing that you seem to care more about my supposed disregard of the Interfector's procedure over my enforcing of Caesar's law."
Aleron placed a hand on the explorer's box and said, "All of my duties are done for Lord Interfector, a man who acts directly on Caesar's behalf as opposed to some... Profligate disguised as a Centurion. A fucking insubordinate worm who disregards the directive of his betters!"
Montano spat with eyes flaming, "So says the man who holds his 'Lord Interfector' over Caesar himself. You should be celebrating my actions against those criminals, yet right now, you are preventing me from receiving a gift from Legate Graham to me... So, 'Centurion Aleron' I'll say one last time, Hand. Over. The. Mask."
Aleron felt his hand drifting towards the .44 pistol on his hip when he stopped himself. He looked back into the fiery eyes of Montano and pulled the small box out of the hands of the explorer. Aleron then slammed the box right into the dirt between them and the crate broke then and there. After the box broke into pieces, the dirt was covered with the packing debris, and laying before Montano's feet was the mask. Aleron stood there with his shoulders heaving up and down as Montano knelt down to pick up the gift.
Montano raised the mask to his view and marveled at its crude yet intricate design. The mask was just as he envisioned, a dull steel mask resembling a clean face with no emotion whatsoever. Two eye slits were there under the smooth steel forehead of the mask and the thing had two indented lines going down each side of the face where bolts of differing shape ran along each side, showing it was in three parts. Along the edges of that dull grey face was a gold lining that brought the entire attention of anyone who looked at it to the tragic dead face. The face on that mask said to the world what Montano's own couldn't: "I am just one of a million killers. I am a simple anonymous cog in a violent machine." The face was what Montano wanted it to say, but it couldn't hide the fact that the wearer was still very much human. A human that could not contain the rage within especially when looking through those eye slits and seeing that man beyond.
Aleron was still doing everything in his power to restrain himself from going further, but neither he nor Montano knew what to do next. That crowd and those legionaries of the Shiprock garrison hadn't moved but might as well have been a million miles away. The only person Montano could see was Aleron, and the only person Aleron could see was Montano. With nowhere to go and nothing to do, the only two people in the world were Aleron and Montano, silently watching one another. After several long moments of pure silence, both Aleron and Montano knew that what was next was something inevitable.
Neither man wanted to be the one that started it, but both men knew that regardless of what was said next, words, in general, would cause the expected. Both men had a role to play in the game that destiny decided, and both were more than willing to begin running down that destructive and irreversible path at the proper cue. Montano decided to take the first step at the inevitable when he looked back at the beautiful mask of murderous horror and back to Aleron;
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Montano said, fully knowing what he was doing before adding, "Where's yours?"
Aleron, cold and strategic in everything he does for his Primus and the Legion itself, knew the ambush he was walking into. Although, Montano was not the only one who looked forward to ambushes from the enemy. Aleron was Legion through and through, so he said with the coolness of a man completely ready to kill or die, "I have no need of one in my station."
Aleron knew exactly what Montano would say next, but that didn't stop him from nearly bursting at the seams in anticipation of destiny to work. Montano looked up from the mask once more and said in complete acceptance of who he is as the embodiment of war and hate, "Couldn't earn one in your cushy position? Fucking pathetic."
Centurion Aleron roared, "THAT'S IT!" Hearing the answer and waiting for the attack, Aleron stormed head first into the verbal assault, drenched in blood, ready to slaughter and destroy.
Montano reached for his blade and screamed, "You ready to fucking die!? I'm curious how well you've maintained your skills so so very far from any of the fronts!"
Aleron motioned for the explorer to step aside while Clara ran up to take Montano's mask away at his gesture. The two stared each other down as they shifted to new positions. The crowd moved like a silent wave and Montano began removing his cape before Aleron took special notice of Montano's sawed-off shotgun on his hip.
Knowing that they were already charging down that irreversible course and remembering the past of blade fencing that went nowhere, Aleron spat, "You're carrying that shotgun? Let's see how well the famous Montano uses it!"
The idea of using anything other than a blade was almost confusing to Montano, and even Aleron who suggested it, but Montano still he knew what his rival was capable of. Visions of the past shot through Montano's mind and he thought about that first duel where Aleron nearly opened his chest. Despite the insult, Montano knew deep down that Aleron was likely still a terror on the field and with a blade. The idea of complacency in any regard was not something that men like Aleron or Montano were capable of, but there was something that hit Montano as he studied his rival. Montano noticed the .44 on Aleron's hip and so he felt down for the slim double-barrel sawed-off shotgun on his hip. Aleron didn't know whether the shotgun on his rival's hip was loaded with buckshot or slugs, but Aleron made an offer that clearly put him at a disadvantage without realizing it at the time. Still, it was too late to go back, and both men clearly remembered the past and how neither man could kill the other with blades alone. So, Aleron removed his revolver, dumped four of the six bullets into the dirt, and said, "Now we're even. 15 paces. On draw."
Montano agreed to the demand without a word as Aleron whipped the cylinder back into place, ensuring the bullets were ready for discharge. Aleron and Montano moved to new spots with the least potential of collateral. Montano stood with the alley behind him and Aleron stood on the opposite side of the street in front of a store where part of the crowd once stood. With the people of Shiprock and its garrison still watching everything, Aleron was about to order his explorer to give the call when Montano beat him to it;
"Falco! Stand there and make the call at your leisure."
The young decanus vexillarius of Montano's staff took his spot between the men on that street in Shiprock with the Bull on his back. Clara stood off to the side with her face buried in Raquel's shoulders as Raquel herself stood there eyes fixed on the scene, having heard plenty about her master's feud with the famous Aleron she'd never met. Raquel was taken in by the spectacle, never knowing that the feud she'd heard about from Clara was based on actuality.
The two men stared at one another with their hands hovering over their holstered weapons and with the Bull being the only witness that mattered to them. The crowd still silent, the wind slowed once again. What seemed like many hours passed as the earth froze in its place. The world began spinning once again at the shout:
"Draw!"
Four gunshots erupted from the silence in what sounded like a single report. Behind the clap of thunder, a glass was shattered and Montano collapsed while Aleron wobbled in place. In the quarter-second chaos, Aleron landed one shot from his .44 right in the center of Montano's chest and missed the other. Montano's life was saved by the heavy plate of steel he wore as a cuirass, but that didn't stop him from getting floored or prevent the bullet from lodging itself between two ribs. As Montano coughed up blood there on the street Clara screamed. Just as the dust settled from the short battle, Aleron felt the side of his abdomen that grew redder and redder. Aleron turned slightly behind to see the window of the storefront had been shattered, and the bits of blood and flesh in the sand behind him said he had a good chunk of his abdomen ripped away in a spray of buckshot. Aleron tore open the blood-stained part of his tunic and saw just how bad the damage was. Upon seeing the blood pour and how the shotgun landed on the only unarmored spot of his lower torso, he too fell. Brought to his knees, Aleron knelt there on the street staining the ground below him in more blood. Clara began screaming louder as several legionaries ran to Montano and Aleron smiled one more time. The last thing he saw before his vision escaped was the explorer and several other legionaries running towards him.
Both had lost, both had won, neither had died, and fate had yet to determine a true victor.