Walking Tall

A Velorian Legion Story

By Jordan Taylor

Finally some peace! Patricia sighed, washing herself under the heavy falls of the Rio Branco. She emerged from the wash naked and shimmering in the bright, noon sun over Novo Recife.

She gathered her hair over her shoulder, squeezing out the water, to finally let it rest along the curve of her breast. A long time had passed since any of the enhancees were allowed any leave from their duties.

Working with Cristina and Rochelle at the bridge site had made it more bearable for Patricia. She reflected on the antics those two would get up to while the engineers did their work. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see the two sliding their muddy bodies against each other. By the reaction of the other soldiers, it didn’t go unnoticed.

Rochelle was the worst, not having any problem using her power out in the open, naked. In one instance, she emerged covered to her neck in mud after spending the last couple of hours holding a bridge strut in place. The strut had been too heavy for the engineers' crude machinery to bear, so real muscle was needed.

She stripped the tiny uniform’s shorts from her body to hang out leaving her sex completely exposed. She hardly wore the top, despite the leadership’s disapproval. The men, and some women, gawked shamelessly. She was no doubt one of the more beautiful enhancees, if it was possible to compare.

Rochelle smirked at Patricia, then her face changed to a mischeivious grin. Putting two-and-two together, Cristina and Patricia blurred out of view under cover of the brush. Not a moment too soon, as Rochelle began to shake herself, flinging mud everywhere to cover the now thinning group around her. She laughed, as did everyone else. However, she was now clean and dry. That was followed the next day with a tickling attack they played on Patricia while she was holding another section in place.

Patricia giggled to herself at the last one. It was fun, but she missed home so much. She had spent many nights looking up at the sky to see her home. But even its sun was nothing more than a faint point of light, and she had to know just where to look. Still it was enough to comfort her.

She missed her uncle. Her uncle who had raised her after her parents were lost in an accident when she was a little girl. He was a sweet, burly man. Always kind to every living soul he met. He did have his vices, however. He was known in her hometown as something of a womanizer. Patricia had never thought of uncle as a sexual being. The whole notion of sex was something she had been naïve about. At least until the Velorians showed up.

Her uncle had hated the idea, but Patricia had volunteered for service at the youngest age they would take her, eighteen. He had said that she knew nothing of war and thought the Velorians should fight on their own, away from Alguna Parte. Patricia knew it would only be a matter of time until the enemy made its way to her own soil and she wanted nothing more than to keep that from happening.

The thought of losing another of her family was more than enough to push her to join the military. But she would never have guessed that her bioscan would tag her at a Latent, still less that among the Latents she would be the only one selected as “one of the girls” of the Velorian Legion itself. Bidu Braga must have seen something in her she didn’t see herself.

It’s such a wonderful gift, Bidu, she thought. I feel so powerful and free. So uninhibited! It seems so unnatural that one girl, ME of all girls, can decimate an armor platoon bare-handed. I mean, did you see that?

Patricia remembered how Bidu had smiled at her then. So many people looked up to her. It was a good feeling when she approved of you.

Patricia swam to the shore and emerged at a shallow bank on the river. She let the warm sun press against her as she stretched her arms out to welcome it. She had put in her request weeks ago. She had seen a few others go ahead of her and come back already. Though no one might have guessed it, she was anxious. Still, she felt it was hard to complain when you’re a supercharged fighting machine.

Cristina had been watching Patricia for a time. Though she knew Patricia was aware, neither bothered the other. Patricia removed the shells draped around her waist and shoulders and set them next to her clothes. Without dressing herself she turned to Cristina finally.

“Hey Cristi! How’s things?”

“I could complain, but it wouldn’t do any good.” She smiled. “So, what’s this I hear about a bent gun barrel?”

Patricia face reddened as embarrassment rushed to her face. It then contorted to annoyance.

“He hit ME! Not the other way around!” Patricia waved her arms about. She had been doing a live fire exercise with the heavy armor companies as a forward observer. Not that she would ever be doing that, but it broke monotony and she could bone up on her perishable skills. It was what they recruited her for in the first place.

“I understand that, but-“

“But nothing! He’s lucky I wasn’t one of the usual FO’s! Geez, he knocked me right into the berm!”

“That’s exactly the point, you’re not normal. You can’t let a little embarrassment get to you like that. As powerful as we are, we could hurt someone if we don’t control ourselves.”

“I know…I’m sorry, it’s just that…“

“You want to go home.” Cristina helped Patricia out of the water and held her, as a friend. “Pack your bags, soldier. Your uncle is waiting to see you.”

Patricia smiled. She gathered Cristina into the circle of her own arms and hugged her.

“Whoa, ease up, I think my top is burning!”

“Oh sorry. Thank you, Cris.” Patricia wasted no time getting her things together -- she was a blur all the to the housing area.

When Bidu had brought her here for her first tour of duty after recruitment and enhancement, it had all been over but the shouting as far as the Fernandista rebels were concerned. She almost regretted that. She'd signed up to fight, dammit, and there hadn't been any fighting left but mopping up the guerrillas. Well, she'd had to deal with garden variety common criminals on occasion, but that was hardly the same thing. Training exercises weren't the same thing, either.

If it hadn't been for public works projects like the Rio Branco bridge, she'd have been bored out of her gourd. Xuxa Sayão, who'd been in charge of the Legionnaires here in Bidu's absence and had since been rotated off-world herself, hadn’t approved of that sort of thing. But this was a little bridge, not like the huge span across the Rio Amado. It was a project the enhancees could take on easily, even without being able to fly, and spared the Novo Recife authorities the necessity of bringing the really heavy cranes hundreds of miles into the back country to work on a single link of a farm-to-market road.

***

Most of the year on Alguna Parte it was sweltering hot. This was especially the case during the long summers. Humidity wasn’t uncommon and certainly unwelcome, as it made the heat nearly unbearable for the field workers of her small town.

Patricia could remember smelling the orchid on her uncle Teo’s shirts that he left for the wash, which was her duty while he was away at work. She remembers her uncle walking through the door of their small home with a weary smile on his face. He would hang his hat beside the door on the rack that he’d made with his own hands, like much of the furniture in the house. Patricia always came running to him to have him lift her up in his arms as she welcomed him home. His rough hands would almost swallow hers when he took it to lead her to the kitchen where he would make homemade lechon, or asado, and listen to his little niece fill her in on her adventures throughout the day.

As the years passed, as she grew into a woman, as her uncle became less able to lift her up, she was made to work. Patricia never minded working, however. Between the two of them, and whatever help from his little brother they got, they did well. Working in the fields made her strong. Even then, men were always complimenting her on how beautiful she was. They never dared go further than that for fear of her uncle’s reprimand.

Imagine when he sees me now! she smiled.

***

“Are you carrying any illegal substances on your person?”

“No, senor.”

“Do you wish to declare any items?”

“No, senor.”

Finally looking up, the customs official paused.

“Are you sure you’re not concealing anything,” he smirked. It wasn’t a friendly smirk. Creepy came to Patricia’s mind. The last time this happened she had to throw eight men off Legion grounds. It was a short trip over the outer perimeter fence, fifty meters or so. Patricia wanted to avoid any needless displays here, however. The last thing she wanted was unwanted attention while visiting her family.

Patricia looked down at her tight, brief shorts and her midriff baring tank top. “I’m quite sure, senior.”

“You’re Legion, no? Your travel orders say so. Would you mind stepping over here, por favor?”

“Not at all,” Patricia sighed.

The next few minutes seemed an eternity as Patricia allowed four customs officers to search what was available to search. She stood, hands on her head, as one took his time searching her skin-tight clothing. When he’d slipped his hand between her breasts she crushed his fingers. The others began barking at her to strip naked. Apparently, she’d had a concealed weapon. Patricia smiled as she stripped.

Maybe an obvious use of power isn’t necessary, she mused.

Three more joined the search for concealed weapons. Upon closer inspection of her breasts, another officer received a broken jaw when she Patricia feigned a cold shiver. Moments later, the other five gave up. All of them were in various states of injury when their commander arrived. She looked about the floor where broken riot clubs, spent stun guns, and even a bent set of brass knuckles were strew over the room.

“What in God’s name is going on in here?”

A familiar voice. A familiar face.

“A strip search!” Patricia smiled.

“I knew you’d cause trouble,” Carla laughed as they hugged. “Bunch of pervs, I told them this would happen one day.”

Patricia playfully scolded the others, “You should listen when a woman tells you things.

“Did they hurt…? Wait, never mind.”

“Well, my dignity is a little bruised, but I think I’ve been properly adjudicated.”

“Let me take you to Tio Teo’s. It’s a short hover over.”

“Thanks.”

Next chapter to come