I had been summoned. I had persuaded the Hauptadmiral to let me bring my five senior staff officers. It was an "interview with the Emperor himself" which meant it was news - potentially excellent or extremely grim.
The sad state of the Empire's financial affairs meant probably a force reduction or redeployment of some sort. The fact that the Emperor himself wanted to convey a message... Well, it could also be a commendation, right? Ribbons for everybody and an extra sack of coin. For me it was uncomfortable telling lies like that on our way to the conference room, but men had to keep their spirits up, didn't they? There's no point in worrying about the unknown.
So, we sat around the meeting table, with its gleaming chrome and bowls of perfectly arranged fake fruit. My five War Elders were in their best uniforms, finest ribbons, and nervous sentiment to share the glory. That's what I had hinted at as a possibility, though I also said I did not know. At the least it could be a pretty fantastic mission, right? The light hearted joking had stopped as soon as we got the preliminary signal that the Emperor was nearly online.
I felt like carving my initials in the table or something, but of course that's kind of tough when the table is heavy metal and my pocket blade was confiscated before the meeting for security reasons. Even if the Emperor was only going to be a hologram, they would rather we didn't try to cut him or anything.
The Emperor's image came online above the table, with it's usual smoke-like haze and oddly glittering colors. His scar that ran from the corner of his eye to his collar - a trophy of the Khakthikzh Wars - was missing. Perhaps it was either surgically removed to be rid of the reminder, or the image altered. It did not matter.
"Good morning, Commander, and to your Osiris Legion staff officers. I trust you are all well. As you know, the Empire has had severe financial problems for the past several years. We've tried to mitigate the situation, but we've been unsuccessful. I'm sorry, but as a result of these shortfalls the senate have decided to disband your unit, among other units. Your Osiris Legion will be processed out of SDA within the next few weeks. Since we appreciate all of your efforts for the Empire, you will be awarded some departing compensation, per Space Defense Administration policies. You are all good men, and will be given any recommendations you require. Should you have further questions, please contact the appropriate SDA personnel."
The image of the Emperor blinked out immediately, the return link having never been established. He wasn't going to take any questions.
Another image, the Chief of SDA Personnel floated up from the table. You could easily tell his hair had been slicked back with a more generous dollup of grease today for some reason. But then Hauptadmiral Nork was usually greasy.
"Greetings, Commander. Please verify receipt of the Emperor's message and this message within one hour. Commander, you will recall your men from any leave they may be on. All personnel will report to Druhilla City, SDA Administrative Center, at nine o'clock Druhilla local time on the twelfth of next month, per the standard Empire calendar reckoning. Your chronometers should be reset accordingly with embedded code in this transmission. You will be receiving a formal copy of these orders by encrypted broadcast within a few minutes. All personnel will receive ten days' severance pay per year served, pro rated of course. Your full benenfits will remain in place for up to one year. As veterans you will be entitled to health care and a land grant, as well as full citizenship for life. We have an excellent placement service that will ensure your transition to civilian life is accomodated. All other questions should be held until the appointed time on the twelfth. I look forward to meeting with your legion personally, Commander. Laurus! Gloria! Fraturnus! Conserves Mars vos!"
Evidently, the hauptadmiral wasn't taking questions either. His familiar closing chant of Victory, Glory, and Brotherhood was as pompous as ever - as if he knew what he was talking about. The words seemed a mockery at such a time as this. Mars keep you safe! Yeah, whatever, you Latin-spewing dork. Or he says it was Latin. For all I knew or cared it was Hinkouramian.
YOU ARE READING
The Osiris Legion
Science FictionCan a human be clever enough to convert a legion of orc mercenaries into miners in Khatmand? Or does he have other motives? Blasters on stun! Written as sort of a lark, this is an introduction to a possible series.