Legacy
 Lt. Robert Sarnac thought the space academy
had prepared him for anything. . . .
A quick dazzling smile and Artorius was gone, riding along the lines and acknowledging cheers. Sarnac was left gaping after him, with barely enough time to settle back into position in line before the shrill, barbaric horns sounded again and the Visigothic cavalry broke into a charge.
Spreading his feet a little wider apart and waiting to receive heavy shock cavalry, Sarnac subvocalized (sheer habit, in this rising thunder of hooves) into his implant communicator. “Tylar, I’m sure you’ve got the situation well in hand. But whatever it is you’re planning, now’s the time.”
There was no reply. He again made the motion that activated the comm link, confirming that it was already functioning.
“Tylar, this isn’t funny! Talk to me!”
Dead silence inside his skull.
“Tylar? Tylar?!”
Then the Visigoths were on them.
Cover Art by Larry Elmore
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