Stupid Greek Fetish
The ship's cargo bay was massive, at least a city block wide and several long. General Tygo stood with her Vanguard at the very edge of the space before the great door. Each of her men bore a banner embroidered with either a symbol, a number, or the Armenium symbol. A white native bird of prey, spreading its four wings out menacingly.
Behind the Vanguard stood Princess Zyhara, adorned in a beautiful dress. Her hair had been woven and braided, which flowed elegantly over her right shoulder. Her face had modestly applied golden highlights and eyeliner. Rachel had seen the poor girl try to do her own makeup and had stepped in to prevent disaster.
Nameless stood in complete combat kit, next to the Princess and Rachel. All of the vagabonds stood behind him in their complete kit, forming a small square-like formation dwarfed by the more extensive and far more disciplined Armenium Legionnaire formations.
The ground shook as the remaining Legionaries gathered in near-perfect marching cadence, forming behind the Vagabonds. Mistress Anna walked around them, helmet in the crook of her arm. She walked with the poise and elegance the likes of which Nameless had never seen, an eerie shimmering aurora of lethality in her eyes as she approached. The Mistress stopped in front of Zyhara.
“Are you ready to meet your new Allies, your majesty?”
Zyhara gulped.
“I am.”
Anna smiled, dawning her helmet. She signaled with her hand, and the great cargo bay began grinding open. As the door opened, sunlight burst into the rather dully light chamber. Nameless squinted, his ears ringing from the oncoming assault of new noises. There was cheering, some sort of drumming music, and loud mechanical horns blaring outside the ship.
A horn blew inside the bay, and the Vanguard marched forward as one, the banners beginning to unfurl and flow in the wind. The unified sound of combat boots stomping onto the metal floor rung out like a rhythmic tide; it tickled something deep inside Nameless. Was this excitement over marching? With the uniforms, the flags, the discipline, he realized he had never indeed been a soldier. Just a mercenary up until this point. Was this what it felt like to actually fight under a banner?
A pinch on his arm caught his attention. Nameless looked over to see Rachel leaning towards him.
“Imma take a wild guess and say none of you fucks have marched a day in your lives.”
“Yeah, pretty much.”
“Cool. Left foot out, right arm out. Right foot out, left arm out. That’s it; you’re on the right, so we mirror you.”
“What?”
“It’s walking precisely; just fucking do it. Say element forward.”
“Element forward!” Nameless awkwardly called.
The vagabonds began to move forward, following the Vanguard, down the ship's ramp.
“God, we look like a bag of ass,” Rachel seethed.
“I get paid to kill people, not walk nice,” Aj growled.
“I will not march like Yankee shit,” Anatolievich whined.
“Everyone shut the hell up!” Julia grunted, missing a step and nearly tripping, trying to mirror Lion next to her.
As the vagabonds came down the ramp, the rest of the legion began marching forward. The hairs on the back of Nameless’s neck stood up as a thousand boots moved and landed as one. They were now a tide of precisely measured and organized steel, emerging out of the belly of a beast unto a new world.
Outside the ship was the most beautiful sight Nameless had ever seen. The sky was a perfect blue, with shimmering white rolling clouds. Ships dragging gold and purple banners that flowed through the sky, dropping flower petals. The left and right sides were towers that climbed to the heavens, with broad-level balconies. Thousands of people in brightly colored tunics cheered from the terraces, filling the air with chants and calls.
On the ground, the most soldiers Nameless had ever seen lined the left and right, forming a channel that led far down to some sort of temple. Just as there had been a block formation of warriors with capes and plumed helmets on Talabor, there were dozens of these formations, each with their own banner, standing side by side facing one another.
As the Vanguard marched down the center of this vast, parted sea of soldiers, Nameless could see where they were heading. Not far from where the ship had landed, the parade deck they were on ended in stairs that climbed a story or two to a silver, pillared building. It reminded him of ancient Greek architecture, except all of these buildings were far more advanced and sophisticated than any on Earth or Mars.
At the top of the steps stood two men. One was fully clothed in a purple tunic, the other a blood-red one. One had a green laurel upon his head, and the other’s head was bare. Both seemed to have large families standing beside them. Leading up to the men stood a pair of soldiers on every further step, their pure white capes flowing in the wind. They were giant men, each the size of general Tygo, seven feet tall, burgeoning muscle body mass, their faces concealed by white hoods, a massive silver glaive in one hand, a great shield in the other. Each shield had the Armenium symbol. A white native bird of prey, spreading its four wings out, a blood-red tongue of fire lashing sideways.
As the Vanguard approached the bottom of the steps, the two men began to walk down towards the approaching task force. In unison, the massive guards pivoted, making way for the lords. As the Lords passed the subsequent level, the guards would shift again and follow them, forming a long double line of massive guards descending downward.
The Vanguard split into two, each half forming on the left and right, facing inward towards the Vagabonds. General Tygo plunged her sword into the ground, took a knee, and bowed her head as the men approached.
The Vagabonds arrived a few paces behind the general. The formation behind them halted, stopping their heels as one, shaking the ground. Anna gracefully flowed around them and stood beside Rachel. Lion also came forward and stood by Nameless.
“So, this is how powerful mankind can be?” Nameless whispered.
“This is how powerful every human planet used to be,” Lion grunted back.
“It would be very wise to bow now, children,” Anna gracefully whispered, bowing from the waist down.
The vagabonds all bowed from the waste, Zyhara doing a curtsey. As they rose, the robed men were now at eye level.
The man in the purple robe had soft hands, a kind expression, no signs of aging, mid-twenties. His green eyes and light brown hair nearly seemed to sparkle; his scrawny body was covered in fine glitter as it flashed.
The man in the blood-red tunic was bald, his taught, sun-damaged, and scarred face twisted and menacing. He was massive, built like a bear, even taller than Tygo, perhaps eight feet tall, his hairy barrel chest sticking out from his tunic, his fists easily the size of Nameless’s face. The man seemed to be middle-aged.
“Welcome to Armenium, Princess Zyhara, firstborn,” The man in the purple robe chimed.
“Thank you, my lords, for the most gracious welcome,” Zyhara said.
“I am Arcturios, Paradigm of the sciences, diplomacy, and agriculture of Armenium,” He sing-songed.
“And I am Barsool, Paradigm of war,” The man in the red tunic grunted.
“Together, we rule our noble home,” Arcturios smiled.
“You have brought before us other rulers, yet do not introduce them, my lady?” Barsool asked gruffly.
Nameless’s stomach dropped. He cleared his throat.
“I am commander Nameless; I lead Taskforce Vagabond,” Nameless nodded.
“You speak as if you do not represent a planet, boy,” Barsool grunted.
His voice sounded like a bear speaking; it shook Nameless. He had never heard a man’s voice with so much base before.
“My fellow Vagabonds sit on the council of Mars the same as I do. But we figured perhaps this is not the place to name our titles; we’re just warlords compared to your majesties,” Nameless gulped.
Arcturios tutted.
“The mantle of leadership still bares weight; you speak for your people, as do we. We did not bring you here to grovel before us, but to speak as equals. Ladies Julia and Sammy, councilmen Yuri, Aj, and Chang. We have heard your song; Lady Anna has shown us footage of your feats on your home world. As students of state craft, and warrios, we admire and respect your work.”
Barsool slowly prowled over to Lion, who was staring vacantly into the distance.
“I see the pretty prince still refuses to bare his true skin among proper warriors,” Barsool growled.
“Barsool,” Arcturios gently sighed.
Lion looked up, grinning.
“Sorry, I was daydreaming about those lovely ladies in silk from the last time I here.”
Lion evaporated his human form, his gold hair flowing in the wind, his grey skin perfect and glistening as his flawless teeth shined. He closed in on Barsool, looking up with bared fangs.
“You can act like Armenium is the big bad protector of Zion, but we both know who beat them in five wars. Or did you forget who gave you sliver diapered twatwaffles, faster than light technology? Maybe you need a reminder how a true warrior fights.”
Lion cocked his head, his earrings jangling in the wind.
Barsool closed in, their chests almost touching, his fists clenched, a vein popping out of his neck.
“You would be dead before my guards made it halfway down the steps.”
“Oh yeah? Don’t tease me, big boy; I wanna die. Do you?”
They stood silently in locked eye contact. Then both burst out laughing.
Barsool landed his meaty paw on Lion's shoulder while the prince took a swig from his flask, grinning.
“Ancestors, how I have missed this wretched brat!” Barsool laughed.
“You’re just lucky I mutated a sense of humor,” Lion grinned.
“High Prince Lythdorian Aesorgejabha,” (not how it’s actually spelled, just the way it sounds.) “Does your presence here indicate that the noble Laydren people support this war effort?” Arcturios asked pleasantly.
The vagabonds' eyes widened as Lion retook his human form, wiping his mouth.
“What? It’s my fucking name; he’s the only human I’ve ever met that can pronounce that right,” Lion chortled.
“Hey!” Rachel spat.
“Okay fine, second. And well, you see, sir, yes and no. I would like to use your communication systems here to contact home if you don't mind. I doubt they’re pleased about Zion’s new management, but they won’t send boots without reports from the ground.”
“Of course,” Arcturios smiled. “Now, if you all will follow me, we have prepared something rather special.”
The Paradigm of diplomacy gestured up the stairs and gracefully began walking upward. The guards parted, letting the people through. As they climbed the steps, Nameless’s mind whirled. He could have never imagined a world more beautiful than Zion. A year ago, he had never seen grass before. Now every day, he saw something new and unique that completely changed his perspective on how people could live.
It dawned on him that this could be Mars once this war was over. They could and should make Mars as beautiful as this planet. Grow the forests, raise the crops, and form the oceans. If they were victorious, he would use every advantage all these high connections gave him to ensure the children of Mars never suffered again.
Was it too bold to dream? He had seen the impossible be done over and over again. Gods were fake, science and magic were the same, fleets and armies could transcend galaxies, armies could assail neighboring dimensions. One of his best friends was a shapeshifting alien prince. The rest were former slaves that were now arguably richer and more powerful than Mr. Eyes or Mama Jockus could have even dreamed of.
He didn’t want to be Mar’s leader; he still was convinced he was the only man for the job. The only reason people looked up to him was his power level. Yet something was stirring inside him, something that had been there many, many lifetimes ago. He knew what was right, and he had the balls to do what needed to be done. Maybe he should lead. Was this Nameless’s purpose?
They emerged unto the top of the steps, the temple grounds sprawling out before them. The courtyard that led to the high pillared temple was beautiful, with green grass spanning out before them, marbled pathways, gardens, fruit trees, and little ponds. As they walked through the courtyard, the army below dispersed, no doubt heading off on leave.
The group continued onward into the temple. This place was even more extravagant than the hall of the light bearers back in Zion. The walls were covered in elegant paintings and statues, and the ceiling glittered with floating blue, gold, grey, and white lights. Long branches hung from pillar to pillar, the floor littered with tables for dining. At the head of the room stood a raised dais. Nameless looked around in wonder, physically working to keep his jaw from hanging as the swarm of colors and sweet scents overwhelmed him.
“If you would be so kind as to join us, Princess,” Arcturios gestured to the raised dais.
Zyhara looked at Rachel.
“Will you sit with me?” She giggled.
“If that's what you want, kiddo,” Rachel smiled.
The two went off to sit with the Paradigms. As the room began to fill, several people with glowing eyes approached Lion, whispering lowly into his ears. Other Laydren, no doubt, but why so secretive? Nameless watched with curiosity as Lion’s face grew dark, his brow furrowing and eyes narrowing with a grimace.
“Excuse me, guys, home wants a word. Be back soon, ya’ll,” Lion half smirked.
“Damn, I wanted to drink with that guy so bad,” Aj moaned.
“I’m sure you’ll get the chance, big guy,” Julia scoffed.
Mai was swaying on his feet, his freshly remade face pale.
“You okay, chang?” Sammy asked, her eyes searching.
Mai nodded, rubbing his temples.
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“Sensory overload; I just got out of surgery; I’m fine, though.”
Anatolievich gently grasped his shoulder.
“Come, my friend, we will find you a quiet corner and a nice bottle for ourselves, no?”
Mai hesitantly nodded, walking off with Yuri.
Nameless looked around at the remaining vagabonds.
“Guess it’s just the original Vagabonds now,” He smiled.
“Something like that,” Julia said darkly.
“C’mon, they got a table next to the dais for us,” Sammy chirped happily.
They all meandered through the growing crowd and took their seats at a finely crafted wooden table with the most expensive cutlery they had ever seen. Aj looked excited, his eyebrow nearly touching his thick hairline as he looked around, a cup of wine already in hand. Nameless groaned as he sat down, taking in everyone.
Sammy also seemed happy as she clung to Aj’s arm. Unless they were on a mission, they seemed inseparable. She had taken off her skull cap and had let her hair down, which framed her beautiful pale, freckled face.
Julia sat stiffly in her chair, staring at her plate, her silver fingers absentmindedly twirling her hair. It didn’t seem like her to always be brooding. Nameless wanted to console her, make her laugh, anything. Just make her smile again, like she used to back on Mars.
As Nameless’s mind worried, servants began bringing food and drink on silver platters. The vagabonds all gazed with popping eyes and watering mouths as the most delicious, organic meats, fruits, and vegetables were laid before them. Once the food was set, the wine was poured. Nameless looked around and noticed no one had started eating.
Barsool slowly stood up, wine glass extended forward. Besides him on the left sat General Tygo and several other people, who guessing by their rough appearances, where in the military. Arcturios lounged in his seat on Barsool’s right. Several men and women dressed in elegant clothes and poised body language sat beside him. On the far end sat Princess Zyhara and Rachel.
“We gather here today to welcome our allies with open arms. May the gods bless our warriors, that we may bring justice upon the usurpers of Zion! Lady Zyhara, I welcome you into our home and offer my allegiance.”
The room cheered and drank as Barsool sat down.
Arcturios solemnly stood up. He poured some of his drink into the fire beside him. As he did so, everyone in the room grimly stood, the Vagabonds following suit confused.
“I raise my glass in honor of our fallen dead. I offer my sincerest condolences to the fallen of Zion and wish them peace in the afterlife. Our custom is to greet friends and honor our death with a great celebration. It is foolish to mark the passing of such brave souls with tears. Let us instead rejoice that such valiant people walked among us and let us strive to earn their sacrifice. Today we honor you, Princess Zyhara firstborn; tomorrow, we burn the dead.”
The room all saluted and toasted. As everyone retook their seats, music began to play, the thrum of the party growing as people started to eat and drink. Aj grabbed his small roasted animal by the whole off his plate and attacked it with his teeth. Sammy giggled while drinking. Nameless could not believe how good the food was. Not to mention the wine? All the big corporate folk on Mars drank the stuff; it was like juice but got you drunk!
Nameless grinned and looked over to see Julia was not eating.
“C’mon, you gotta eat.”
“Dude, we made it!” Aj laughed with a mouth full of food.
“We’re rich, off Mars, and the damn Vagabonds Julia,” Sammy smiled.
“And while we stuff ourselves and whore our skills for armies that don’t belong to our own planet, Spider and Hera are out there somewhere,” Julia seethed.
“Oh Gods, not this again,” Aj rolled his eyes.
“What do you mean, oh gods?! Aj, our gods, tried killing us!” Julia spat.
Aj slowly stopped eating, the joy draining on his face.
“Look at what they did to those poor peasants on Talabor; what the fuck do you think the Dark Axium is doing to them right now in those cells?” Julia said.
“Bold of you to assume they could ever catch Spider,” Nameless said dryly.
“Or take Hera alive,” Sammy shrugged.
Julia scoffed, throwing herself back into her chair, arms crossed.
“Am I the only one around here who still cares about them? Or about why we left Mars in the first place?”
“Yes,” Aj nodded, chugging his wine.
Julia’s anger nearly slipped, her mouth twitching.
“If we were trapped on Zion, and they were here, they would say the same thing I’m telling you: fucking enjoy yourself. It’s what they would want,” Nameless said in a low tone.
“And who the fuck made you the expert on how they feel or what they want?”
“Same question goes for you, Julia; you’re not our mother,” Sammy snapped.
Nameless leaned forward in his seat.
“I know a metric fuckton of bad shit has happened. We all fucking know how bad things will get when we march with these silver tin men back to Zion and bust down those gates. But we left Mars for a better life; kinda hard getting a better life when some dickhead is trying to burn the galaxy down. If I could have kept everyone together all the time, no matter what, we would still be here. And you would still be bitching because you’re not on some stupid fucking farm,” Nameless spat.
Julia stared at the table, lips tightly pressed together, her chin trembling.
“We love you, Jules, tough love, but we do. They’re either dead and at peace, or they’re causing all fucking hell for the Axium right now. I’d say that's good either way in my book,” Aj shrugged.
Julia scoffed.
“Good evening, children!”
The Vagabonds turned to see the Zion family approach.
“Oh god,” Julia groaned.
“Professors!” Nameless called happily.
“My dear boy, oh thank heavens, real food! May we sit with you?” Thaddeus asked.
“Pop a squat professor bullshit; that’s an order,” Nameless smiled.
Thaddeus happily sat down between Julia and Nameless. Cirilla elegantly pulled over a chair and sat between Nameless and Aj. Sapphire pulled another chair over and quietly sat down between Julia and Sammy. Servants brought over plates and cups for all.
“I have always wondered where that fine little nickname came from,” Cirilla chimed.
“That’s Aj, man.” Nameless scoffed.
Aj laughed, slamming the table.
“He’s a professor, and he says a lot of bullshit,” Aj shrugged.
“And there you go, the vast and splendid tale of how I earned my very first Martian moniker!” Thaddeus chuckled.
Nameless sighed, putting his drink down.
“When he first came to Mars, they caught him in the first few days,” Nameless started.
The table all looked at him.
“We were running for our lives down a river to a place called Oasis; that’s how we met Captain Spider. And uh, some crazy shit happened, we get separated, I joined a sewer cult, and we get this crazy job, man. I’m told some stupid Earther got caught, and he’s in the dungeons. Now he’ll pay us good money for the vial, so we bust him out. Gods, that was a fucking firefight, wasn’t it?”
Thaddeus softly nodded, smiling.
“You guys remember when Hera used that slicer?!” Sammy giggled.
“Dude, that was nuts!” Aj smiled.
“You got shot,” Julia muttered darkly.
“Hell yead I did!” Aj grinned.
“I hate to interrupt this wonderful tale, but a sewer cult?” Cirilla an arched eyebrow.
“Yeah, well, thanks to the crazy sewer people, we got your man out. And so, we’re going up these levels, there’s blood and guts everywhere, shit is fucked, right? Like this is a no-bullshit warzone man, and get this, surprising, I know, but um, Thaddeus just will not shut the fuck up!”
The whole table laughed, some less than others.
“I mean, this guy is trying to teach and correct us while we’re clearing upstairs and hallways and shit. The whole city is on fire, the cavern is collapsing, there are armies fucking each up, and this professor keeps saying all this bullshit. And so, there you go, we’ve been calling him professor bullshit ever since.”
The whole table chuckled and smiled. Cirilla gently reached across the table as Nameless leaned back and held her husband's hand.
“When we attended the University of Luna, he was single-handedly the most vocal student I ever had the displeasure of being assigned with,” Cirilla gently said.
Thaddeus chuckled.
“And yet, this damned, persistent, stubborn know-it-all rhymed and recited his way into my heart,” Cirilla smiled.
“It was precisely after my twenty-seventh hamlet reference that she knew she loved me.”
Cirilla scoffed, gently smacking his hand as she leaned back.
Nameless chuckled, studying Sapphire.
“I feel bad; we all know everything about you and Cirilla but not much about Sapphire,” He said.
Sapphire’s face turned red as everyone looked at her.
“I’m no one special,” She stammered, sipping her glass.
“Now, who is this?” Thaddeus laughed. “Where’s the girl who liked to talk as much as me?”
Sapphire awkwardly shifted in her seat, looking at her food. Nameless detected something, he could be wrong, but he knew that look and posture. Someone who had their first real taste of hell. She seemed to still be recovering to him.
“Hey, Aj, why don’t you tell us about Delcore?” Nameless smiled.
“Nonsense, Sapphire has-” Thaddeus began.
“Dude, that job was nuts!”
As Aj began a long, now drunk rant about that long past mission, diverting all attention unto himself. Nameless caught a glimpse of Sapphire. She sighed with relief. They locked eyes, and she gave a slight nod. He returned it.
As the drunk stories and laughs continued, the room slowly dissolved into a blur of motion as guests greeted and recanted war stories. Nameless, quite drunk, stood up and walked up to the dais. Zyhara happily talked with people to her side while Rachel sipped her wine. She sat like a wolf, studying anyone who came closer. Her left knee was tucked loosely to her, the other laying out from the chair. Her left arm rested on her kneecap while her right fiddled with her knife.
Her green eyes narrowed as Nameless approached.
He raised his glass. She arched an eyebrow.
“You’re a badass, just giving some credit, one warrior to another,” Nameless chuckled.
Rachel sighed, raising her own glass. They both drank.
“I don’t like you,” She mused, so low only the two of them could hear.
“I know,” Nameless smiled.
Nameless turned around and walked away, his chest on fire. She was so beautiful; why had he been so course with her on Talabor? Stupid mission mindset. Part of him felt guilty, if he had reserved any romantic feelings for anyone; it had been Julia his whole life. Was it wrong to latch on to someone new? Shouldn’t he wait after all of this to win Julia over? But what if they died, or one of them died? Then it would all be for nothing. Plus, chances were pretty high, someone intelligent and good-looking would earn Julia’s heart.
Now, Rachel was different. The polar opposite of Julia. The only person she mothered, was Zyhara, but that made sense. Dark and beautiful, but a terrific warrior. Nameless remembered seeing her fly through the sky, the devastation she had caused. She wasn’t just some cute girl to him; she was a warrior goddess. Someone who might be able to beat him. A feral sensation was burning inside him; he had never met someone who scared and aroused him like this before.
As Nameless meandered through the feast, he noticed Lion sitting alone on the steps outside of the temple. He snatched an entire bottle from an empty table and drifted over to the prince. As he got closer, he saw Lion’s dark mood. Was the general actually sober?
Nameless silently sat down next to the prince. Lion didn’t even look at him, just vacantly staring out over the fantastic city.
“Wanna talk bout it?”
Lion shrugged, holding his hand up. Nameless gently handed him the bottle. Lion cracked it open and gulped, and gulped, and gulped.
“That bad, huh?”
Lion wretched the bottle away, heaving, spit falling from his mouth.
“C’mon, talk to me, man.”
“I’m not fucking good enough for them.”
“Whatcha mean?”
“My people burned me.”
They were silent as both stared away.
“They want nothing to do with me, Zion, or humans. They say all of this is a barbarian squabble. There will be no help from the mighty, fucking Laydren.”
Nameless silently studied the man. There was no optimism, none of his glaring obstinance. Just an empty shell of a person, alien or not.
“I took on the mantle of a fucking warrior priest and set upon the path of the Great Truth to honor my people for my mistake.”
Lion turned and faced Nameless, a tear running down his face.
“And they say living with humans dishonors them.”
Nameless pierced his lips.
“I will never revert back to my form ever again!”
“Don’t say that, man.”
“Fuck my people! Fuck my father; that stupid fucking bastard sent me here in the first place!”
Nameless was silent. He put a hand on Lion’s shoulder.
“You’re still a Vagabond.”
Lion scoffed.
“Great, the alien reject is only good enough for the human rejects. Perfect.”
“At least you’ll be among good company,” Nameless chuckled.
Lion stifled a groan, swigging from the bottle.
“I miss the old day, man. We used to run this shit. Now here we are. You’re some weird, pseudo dad/general. I’m a former prince, now just a monk. We commanded armies, brother. We lay siege to solar systems. Civilizations trembled when we rose our banners.”
“Is there a way I can unlock these memories?”
Lion looked at him, surprised.
“Yeah, no shit. Oh, fuck, you don’t know; yeah, man, just find a stash.”
“A stash?”
“Yeah, dude, we left caches all over the stars. In case your stupid human brain forgot.”
“Where’s the nearest one?”
“Here. On Armenium.”
“How do we find it?”
“Only the Paradigms know, man; you never told me your stash locations.”
Lion suddenly thumped Nameless in the chest, a half-smile on his face.
“I told you so!”
Nameless laughed.
“What do you mean?”
“Dude, like a couple thousand years ago, we literally sat like this on some stupid fucking burned-out fortress on some stupid fucking moon. And I fucking told you, Aryus bro, you’re gonna lose your memories, you’re gonna get reincarnated into some stupid son of a bitch on some backwater planet, and you gonna die over and over again stuck on that that fucking planet!”
Nameless laughed again.
“We did some crazy shit back in the day?”
“Crazy-crazy shit? Are you fucking kicking me?!”
Lion stood up shakily, holding his arms out, tears running down his face.
“You made this. I stood there and watched you humans build this city. We kicked the shit out of some stupid hive mind that had enslaved your colonists, and you built this city to honor our fallen brothers. You were the guy; you’re why these assholes have plumed helmets and Greek architecture. My dude, your stupid Greek fetish is why half the human worlds look like future Rome!”
“Greece and Rome are totally separate, man,” Nameless laughed.
Lion looked down at him, anguish on his face.
“Now look at you.”
This wasn’t funny anymore; he didn’t like how judged he felt.
“I'm doing pretty fucking well, thank you very much.”
Lion scoffed, waving his hand as he sat back down.
“We used to do shit like this for fun.”
Nameless sighed.
“What about Rachel?”
Lion’s eyes widened, blowing through his lips as he shook his head.
“Ya know how she is now?”
“Mhm.”
Lion sighed.
“She used to be nice. So fucking nice man, she helped me with my first five wives. Think like Arcturios and Barsool combined; that woman is a fucking unstoppable force. And you're an immovable object. You fuckers rarely fought, but when ya did. Fuck man. We all worried you guys might tear apart the galaxies sometimes.”
Nameless laughed.
“Well, for what it's worth, I might not remember what we did together, but I’m glad you’re here now.”