Read Online Muses of Terra (Codex Antonius Book 2) by Rob Steiner - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Rob Steiner
Ads: Link
the case, I don’t like unanswered questions. Stay alert, Trierarch.”
Cordus nodded. He didn’t need Kaeso to tell him that.
The Vacuna crew gathered in Cargo One as Kaeso lowered the external ramp. They all wore some variation of a green jumpsuit that was standard fashion for Liberti merchant crews. Blaesus, however, seemed to chafe in his jumpsuit; he had wanted to wear his brilliant white toga as he typically did on-world, but thought better of it. An obvious Roman fashion on a revolutionary world might garner sour glares at best, a sniper’s pulse pellet in the brain at worst.
“I hesitate to burden you with such a request, sire,” Blaesus said as he dropped his packs to the floor, “but could you carry my second bag? My back spasms have returned and will not let up. I think it’s because I’m sleeping on a ship’s bunk again, which makes a board of nails seem as comfortable as a feather quilt in comparison.”
“Sure,” Cordus said, then picked up the pack. He grunted in surprise; the pack seemed to hold a dozen hardbound books and a few bricks for good measure.
“You’re a wonderful Trierarch, sire,” Blaesus said, then bounded down the cargo ramp.
Cordus now understood why the rest of the crew scattered when Blaesus entered Cargo One. He put the pack over his shoulder and walked down the door ramp.
At least no one will mistake me for a Roman patrician. They’d rather die than suffer under this load.
At the bottom of the ramp, Kaeso eyed Blaesus’s pack as he tapped the controls on the Vacuna to close the ramp. “You’ll learn,” he said with a grin.
The yellow sun, blue sky, and cool breeze refreshed Cordus’s spirits and made the pack seem lighter. This was the first time in six years he’d set foot on a Terran-class world other than Caesar Nova. A pleasant grassiness permeated the air. The hills beyond the tarmac were green and rolling, with occasional trees that looked more like giant shrubs than the tall canopy trees Cordus grew up with in Roma. Cordus had grown used to Caesar Nova’s limited vegetation of man-sized bushes, so he marveled at the size of Reantium’s tree-shrubs.
The walk to the ground car loosened Cordus’s tight muscles. It had been over a week since they left Caesar Nova, and he’d barely had time to train like he had on the Saturnist stronghold.
But I’m not in training anymore. Now he was doing something that mattered, practicing his skills in a real mission. Though the confused situation on Reantium made him nervous, he could not deny the excitement rising in him with each step. The air, the adrenaline, and the low gravity combined to make him feel ready for any challenge the mission gave him.
A lone ground car sat at the edge of the tarmac, beside which stood a short, stocky man with a shock of blond-white hair, its wisps standing in the breeze. He wore the tan shirt and matching pants commonly worn by slaves throughout the Republic. He held a sign with “Vacuna” hand-written in black, bold letters. This amused Cordus, for there were no other ground cars around Uller Mus, and no other disembarking crews from the parked ships.
“This must be our car,” Kaeso remarked.
“Uller Mus!” Blaesus shouted good-naturedly when they were a dozen paces away. “Gods, man, you don’t look a day over 80!”
“Dominar Octavius,” Uller said in a quiet voice. “A pleasure to see you again.”
Uller took Blaesus’s shoulder pack from his outstretched hands. He walked around to the back of the ground car, opened the trunk and stowed the pack. Cordus and the rest of the crew handed their packs to Uller, who added them to the trunk.
Once the packs were secure, the Vacuna crew climbed into the car. Uller got into the driver’s seat, and they were soon traveling down a paved road toward Nascio.
Blaesus sat in the front seat to Uller’s right. “So the troubles reached old Tarpeius, eh? Bet the bastard wasn’t pleased to lose his
Cordus nodded. He didn’t need Kaeso to tell him that.
The Vacuna crew gathered in Cargo One as Kaeso lowered the external ramp. They all wore some variation of a green jumpsuit that was standard fashion for Liberti merchant crews. Blaesus, however, seemed to chafe in his jumpsuit; he had wanted to wear his brilliant white toga as he typically did on-world, but thought better of it. An obvious Roman fashion on a revolutionary world might garner sour glares at best, a sniper’s pulse pellet in the brain at worst.
“I hesitate to burden you with such a request, sire,” Blaesus said as he dropped his packs to the floor, “but could you carry my second bag? My back spasms have returned and will not let up. I think it’s because I’m sleeping on a ship’s bunk again, which makes a board of nails seem as comfortable as a feather quilt in comparison.”
“Sure,” Cordus said, then picked up the pack. He grunted in surprise; the pack seemed to hold a dozen hardbound books and a few bricks for good measure.
“You’re a wonderful Trierarch, sire,” Blaesus said, then bounded down the cargo ramp.
Cordus now understood why the rest of the crew scattered when Blaesus entered Cargo One. He put the pack over his shoulder and walked down the door ramp.
At least no one will mistake me for a Roman patrician. They’d rather die than suffer under this load.
At the bottom of the ramp, Kaeso eyed Blaesus’s pack as he tapped the controls on the Vacuna to close the ramp. “You’ll learn,” he said with a grin.
The yellow sun, blue sky, and cool breeze refreshed Cordus’s spirits and made the pack seem lighter. This was the first time in six years he’d set foot on a Terran-class world other than Caesar Nova. A pleasant grassiness permeated the air. The hills beyond the tarmac were green and rolling, with occasional trees that looked more like giant shrubs than the tall canopy trees Cordus grew up with in Roma. Cordus had grown used to Caesar Nova’s limited vegetation of man-sized bushes, so he marveled at the size of Reantium’s tree-shrubs.
The walk to the ground car loosened Cordus’s tight muscles. It had been over a week since they left Caesar Nova, and he’d barely had time to train like he had on the Saturnist stronghold.
But I’m not in training anymore. Now he was doing something that mattered, practicing his skills in a real mission. Though the confused situation on Reantium made him nervous, he could not deny the excitement rising in him with each step. The air, the adrenaline, and the low gravity combined to make him feel ready for any challenge the mission gave him.
A lone ground car sat at the edge of the tarmac, beside which stood a short, stocky man with a shock of blond-white hair, its wisps standing in the breeze. He wore the tan shirt and matching pants commonly worn by slaves throughout the Republic. He held a sign with “Vacuna” hand-written in black, bold letters. This amused Cordus, for there were no other ground cars around Uller Mus, and no other disembarking crews from the parked ships.
“This must be our car,” Kaeso remarked.
“Uller Mus!” Blaesus shouted good-naturedly when they were a dozen paces away. “Gods, man, you don’t look a day over 80!”
“Dominar Octavius,” Uller said in a quiet voice. “A pleasure to see you again.”
Uller took Blaesus’s shoulder pack from his outstretched hands. He walked around to the back of the ground car, opened the trunk and stowed the pack. Cordus and the rest of the crew handed their packs to Uller, who added them to the trunk.
Once the packs were secure, the Vacuna crew climbed into the car. Uller got into the driver’s seat, and they were soon traveling down a paved road toward Nascio.
Blaesus sat in the front seat to Uller’s right. “So the troubles reached old Tarpeius, eh? Bet the bastard wasn’t pleased to lose his
Similar Books
