B2 Chapter 48: A Stone’s Throw Away

Quintus felt like Orpheus himself, fleeing from the fell and dismal realm of the underworld itself. Though no lover or muse followed Quintus in his flight, promising to return to him should he escape. He had no such hope. For him, it was simply a matter of time until he was forced to look back and face the absolute torture that hounded him at every step. The horror known as bureaucracy.

It was this personal hell that saw him take whatever excuse he could possibly manage to get out of that damn command center. Whether it was overseeing a construction project, taking a meeting at the barracks, or even simply doing a personal review of the troops and their training, he took every opportunity. Anything to escape the underworld for even a few hours.

Which was exactly how he found himself striding through the training fields, heading toward the line of siege engines that their engineers had been working on so tirelessly.

It was necessary, he told himself. He’d spent the last several hours reviewing quartermaster reports when a summary of the latest siege weapon improvements had come across his desk. And when he’d seen the numbers reported for maximum range, well, they’d certainly raised his eyebrows. Something like that needed verification.

At least, that’s what he would tell anyone who asked. Of course, he could have sent someone else to check on this or simply requested a clarification, but he had other reasons for being here than escaping the pile of paperwork that threatened to drown him back at the command center. If those numbers were accurate, then he wanted to see the siege weapons in action.

“Primus Pilus!” A relatively lanky Legionnaire called out as Quintus approached. Neat rows of trebuchets, catapults, and ballistae stood behind the man, as well as a few machines that Quintus was unfamiliar with. The engineers had been busy indeed.

Quintus nodded. “Good afternoon. I’m here to see lead engineer Cornelius.”

“That would be me, sir.” Cornelius snapped a salute, and Quintus returned it. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Quintus looked over the training fields. Legionnaires swarmed over the engines like ants, building and adjusting and inspecting. As they noticed him, however, he saw many of the men call to one another and halt their work. They lined up on the field and waited in case Quintus asked something of them.

He sighed inwardly. Being granted authority over the Habersville area, even temporarily, had led to many such changes. Quintus was used to being respected by the Legion, but this simply felt inconvenient. It felt like he couldn’t go anywhere without disturbing the work of others—a dilemma quite at odds with his desire to spend his days out and about as much as possible.

He once more found himself glad to have turned down that promotion. This kind of attention was simply stifling. He didn’t know how Tiberius handled it.

Quintus turned his attention back to a patiently waiting Cornelius. He was aware that his appearance was a surprise, and likely not a very pleasant one. Hopefully his curiosity wouldn’t grate on their nerves too much.

“I read some rather incredible numbers on your most recent reports, centurion.” Quintus began. “Ones that frankly beggar belief. I’m here to ensure an extra digit wasn’t added by mistake.”

Cornelius chuckled and relaxed, but only slightly. “I assure you, the reports were accurate. But I understand it may be difficult to believe without seeing yourself.”

Quintus nodded, glad that the man wasn’t offended by his disbelief. “How quickly can you prepare a demonstration?”

“It won’t take long at all, sir. Give us ten minutes.” At Quintus’s disappointed expression, Cornelius quickly modified his estimate. “Five, actually. I believe we can manage that if you’re in a rush.”

“No. Ten minutes is fine.” Quintus waved the man off. “Don’t rush on my account.”

He’d honestly been hoping that their preparations would take a bit longer than that. Alas, the Legion’s competence was working against him this day.

No more than four minutes later, Cornelius had his men and several different models of siege weaponry loaded and armed. Quntus looked around for their intended target but saw nothing that might suffice. That was when the lead engineer cleared his throat.

“Our target is there.”

Cornelius pointed far into the distance. Quintus squinted, straining to see but coming up with nothing.

“…Do you have [Keen Eye] or something similar assigned?” Cornelius asked.

“No.”

“Ah, apologies sir. Try this.”

Cornelius handed him a large, hollow metal tube of some sort tipped with glass at each end. At his look of confusion, the engineer explained.

“It’s an invention one of our men has been working on. He noticed that some of the locals make use of eyepieces to improve their vision, so he took inspiration to make something for seeing over long distances. It’s still a work in progress, but it shows promise. Maybe we’ll even be able to use them to replace our vision skills eventually.”

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Quintus peered curiously through the tube. The horizon seemed to draw just a little bit closer as he looked into the glass. Even then, he could only just make out a tiny wooden tower in the distance.

As Quintus focused on the comically small speck in the distance, Cornelius barked out an order. “All units ready? Fire!”

Five machines fired in a staggered volley, each a few seconds after the last. Quintus could barely follow as the boulders sailed into the distance, arcing high enough into the air until they too were reduced to little more than specks.

Just as he began to question whether he’d even be able to notice whether the tower was hit, a puff of sawdust and wood chunks erupted into the air, then another. Each of the five boulders slammed into the distant tower, pulverizing the structure into the ground until it collapsed. A few seconds later, a dull crack reached his ears.

The Primus Pilus whistled appreciatively as Cornelius grinned. The other Legionnaire looked rather pleased with himself. “As you can see, we have indeed made significant improvements to the effective range of our weapons. Of course, this was merely a target requiring half of the power our weaponry can produce to reach it. To maintain accuracy at larger distances presents a variety of other challenges—”

“Hold on.” Quintus interrupted, causing Cornelius to pause mid-sentence. “You can fire even farther?”

“Of course.” Cornelius shrugged. “As I said, the numbers on the reports were no exaggeration. They represent the maximum strain we can put on our weaponry before I would even begin to have concerns about material failure. Assuming we use crews with the proper skills to reinforce them, of course. But then, actually hitting anything beyond a few hundred yards without a specialized crew would be a small miracle in itself.

“No, the problems that prevent us from increasing our range even further are practical ones. For one, as you may have noticed, it becomes pretty damn hard to see what you’re aiming at—if you’ll excuse my casual speech, sir.”

Cornelius glanced at Quintus, but the centurion made no move to reprimand the engineer. Instead, he asked a question. “Are there not skills that allow one to see farther away? I seem to recall the Legatus making use of one.”

“Yes, but even this only can do so much. You still need a clear line of sight to the target, for example, so hitting shifting beyond the horizon is an issue. We’re working to level such skills in hopes of earning useful evolutions, but that will take time.”

Cornelius gestured to one end of the training fields. There, a massive tower of concrete and wood stretched into the sky. “We’ve attempted to build larger observation posts to remedy that issue, but we’d need one that takes at least fifteen minutes to climb in order to see far enough. At that point, it is quite prone to collapse unless we make it semi-permanent. Useful, but not a tactic that would be of much use on the march.

“And that’s assuming we even want to send men halfway across the plains to build a practice target in the first place. Then there are the ammunition modifications to ensure the payload doesn’t diverge from its intended path…”

Cornelius went on and on about the exhaustive list of issues he and his men were facing. Most of it made sense, but there were a few parts that he didn’t quite understand. For example, the man went on a long tangent about the curvature of the planet and its rotation, how it differed from their planet, and how that somehow threw off any aiming calculations by a significant margin.

As tempting as it was to ask the man to explain and clarify endlessly, Quintus couldn’t in good conscience do it. The man had a job to get back to, and that job was not giving his Primus Pilus an exhaustive lecture on the mathematics of siege weapon aiming. Especially since he would likely fail to retain most of it.

When Cornelius had finished his rant, Quintus rubbed his chin in thought. “Hmmm. What about others areas of improvement? Speed, damage, projectile weight?”

“Obviously we’ve been working on those as well.” The lead engineer almost scoffed but seemed to catch himself. “but distance and accuracy have been our main focus. We have yet to encounter anything capable of resisting the destructive measures we already have. Better to expand our range and make it more difficult for enemies to find us and launch counterattacks.”

There was a logic to the man’s prioritization. Still, Quintus shook his head. It honestly seemed as though the engineer had gotten so caught up in seeing what was possible that he’d forgotten to consider whether such efforts would actually be useful.

“I understand. However, at a certain point, pushing our capabilities in that direction offers diminishing returns. And I believe we’re well past that point.” Quintus offered. “I believe you should shift your focus to one of power. Though we have yet to meet any truly impressive fortifications yet, that does not mean they didn’t exist.”

Cornelius thought about his proposal for a moment, seemingly uncertain. A few other engineers had gathered around as they talked, the men exchanging glances with each other or nodding along.

As the silence stretched on, Quintus decided to take advantage of the crowd. He stood tall, clasping his hands behind his back before issuing his orders.

“You have all done excellent work.” He began. “Your next objective is to increase the size and destructive potential of your projectiles. Increases in firing speed would be a secondary priority. Consider multiple scenarios when optimizing for damage—different building materials, fortifications versus common constructions, and large forces versus small ones. If necessary, diverge designs. Understood?”

The engineers nodded, some more enthusiastically than others. Perhaps it was outside his purview to direct the engineers’ long-term goals like this, but it only seemed reasonable to him. And he was certain Tiberius would agree.

An idea struck Quintus suddenly. Perhaps he could sweeten the deal here.

“Additionally…” The Primus Pilus pointed into the distance. “If any of you can manage to fire a one thousand pound object that same distance with the same accuracy you just showed me… I will ensure that everyone involved receives a substantial reward.”

That got their attention. Suddenly, the Legionnaires’ eyes shone with an inner fire. Evidently, having a goal to aim for went a long way when it came to motivating these men.

“You have until the emperor returns to Habersville.” Quintus added. “And while you’re at it… whoever can hit that target with the heaviest payload will win a prize from me personally as well.”

The men saluted together. Even those who had been a little recalcitrant before seemed to change their tune at the prospect of such a competition.

“That is all.” Quintus dismissed them with a smile. “I look forward to seeing what you come up with.

“Yes, sir!”

The collective shout followed him as he turned away from the practice fields. It certainly had been a nice diversion. Hopefully he could find more that required his attention before getting back to his temporary office.

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