Saldana in the West

The field before him reeked of bodies soaking up swamp and sun. A little more than a week had passed, and already the soldiers of three legions lay bloated and rotting under a carpet of scavengers. Ravens plucked at eyes and other tender morsels while the drone of insects could be heard from where the cohort’s ship touched down, and Saldana’s heart nearly broke to see the devastation with his own eyes. Here and there lay the body of an aggressor, one of the local warriors caught up in the coalition against the Republic, but far too few of these littered the battlefield, and Saldana noted bitterly that even if more had fallen, their comrades in arms would have had the luxury of recovering their bodies for a proper burial. Beneath his stoic facade, Saldana roiled with rage and sorrow in equal measure, along with guilt at not being with his soldiers worming through his mind. He forgot himself temporarily as an aide asked him for orders, and turned upon his subordinate with a terrible countenance before composing himself. The flustered aide tried to do the same. 
“What are our orders, sir?”
“Nevermind the camp; we’ll use the skyship as our base of operations, as I don’t fancy building fortifications so close to this much disease. Divide the soldiers into squads, with two resting in order to take watch tonight, one sent out to see about the half dozen people we saw from the air heading this way, and the rest out in the swamp, collecting swords, Marks, and anything they can carry from the warmachines.” His aide hurried off to relay the orders, and Saldana took stock of the materiel losses before him. Legionnaires were irreplaceable in their own way, but for senators a thousand miles away, the cost of replacing two dozen warmachines weighed on their minds more than the blow to the Republic’s collective psyche at fifteen thousand soldiers dead. Saldana had worried about acquiring that cynicism, and would have forced his way out here even if he hadn’t been ordered. The realities of the Republic’s expansion had to be remembered, and no matter how much he believed in the mission, it did no one any good to lie about the real costs.
The sun passed its zenith and sat halfway toward the horizon when the same aide ran up to Saldana. The consul had been shoulder to shoulder with his soldiers, taking swords and personal keepsakes, jotting down the names where he could. The squads were nearly done with the soldiers they could find, covering their bodies with shields and fishing out coins from the pouches every soldier wore to cover their eyes with silver. The aide breathlessly told Saldana about the half dozen who approached, and that they claimed to be survivors from the battle, come to perform rites for the dead. Noting with satisfaction that several soldiers were pulling the more expensive pieces of the warmachines off (and also whispering a prayer of thanks to the gods that the locals hadn’t scavenged the battlefield), Saldana walked back to meet the half-dozen witnesses to this massacre. Six men and women stood gathered in their Republic armor, waiting at attention. Saldana had expected half-starved and tattered soldiers slipping back this way, and felt shock at seeing half a dozen well-fed and maintained legionnaires who a week and a half prior had been part of this catastrophe. All six saluted crisply as he walked up, waiting for the return salute. Saldana rendered and gestured for all of them to take a relaxed stance; something about this expedition struck him as out of place, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. “Soldiers, I’m pleasantly surprised to see you made it and that you were returning. What are your names?” The man with a corporal insignia spoke up. “Hashkeh, sir. My fellow soldiers are Varus, Jata, Lelia, Quintus, and Dezba. It’s a relief to see you, sir.”
“It is? So you’re not deserters?”
All six hesitated. Desertion often carried a capital punishment. Finally, Hashkeh responded. “No, sir. We had no way of returning to Republic territory in an expedient fashion, so our intention was to winter here, and begin the long march back in the spring.” “Through hostile territory. It would have been foolish, but I appreciate your sense of duty. You took a risk just coming back to this battlefield. Where did you plan to winter, then? Some nearby village I assume?” Saldana’s tone had softened, but Hashkeh still felt on edge.
“Yes sir, a village two days from here. Our sergeant and a couple of others were wounded, and as it turns out the sergeant is from that very village. They took us in and showed us hospitality before we set out.”
Saldana’s eyes narrowed. “Did this village send warriors against our legions?”
“I don’t know, sir. I don’t think so; they’re too small to have many warriors, and expressed concern about the winter raids. The whole village has maybe twice the number of people as this cohort. We could bring the skyship over and pick up the rest easily.” Saldana turned to look out once again over the field of bodies, most covered with shields, with the majority sinking further into the muck if they hadn’t already. The idea of soldiers retreating from a battle riled him, but what good would a dozen have done where thousands perished? “We’ll retrieve them later. We’ll be in the region for a while, and once we set up a base of operations, they can join us when they’re ready. No doubt word will spread of our presence.” The unspoken goal of testing the loyalty of the others wasn’t missed by Hashkeh or his squad, but they had been granted clemency for any wrongdoing. The others would have to make their own choice.
Hashkeh spoke up again. “If I may, sir, why do you intend to stay? Is this not a mission just to see to the dead?” Saldana shook his head. “The mission has changed. Even if the people in this land don’t join the Republic proper, they must be taught that such an insult will not go unpunished. The prana lines here make steering the skyship difficult, but there’s a good sized town nearby that we can take for starters, and begin fortifying. With a foothold established we can raid on foot if necessary.” “And if the locals unite as they did before? Sir, I don’t mean to dissuade you, but we faced thousands. There’s only one cohort here.”
Saldana shook his head. “We have the skyship, and the odds of that kind of coalition appearing in this region again are slim, especially as the harvest period winds down. Besides” he said, as he hefted the massive sword at his back, “this time I will be with you.”