"Once again, your shortcomings are none of my concern," Crucible fired back. "If you think you’re unfit for command, you can discuss it with the legate.
"Otherwise, if you’re done harassing my men, I have other business to attend to," he added in a tone suited for dismissing a subordinate.
For the first time in a long time, Livianus had the urge to back away. No, rather, he had the urge to simply turn on his heels and walk away from this situation entirely, but he would never entertain the idea. The Vexillarius was even more horrified to realize the urge had manifested itself a bit as one of his boots shifted ever so slightly against the packed earth below his feet.
Tensing up, he bade himself stay still, unnaturally so. His eyes which so often scanned the area around him, could not bring themselves to look at anything but the rapidly disastrous situation before him, though he could still pick up on the movements of his fellow legionaries watching from their surroundings. He rather wished he couldn’t. Could they sense his nerves?
Truth be told, it was likely they would not. Outwardly, the man’s composure was nearly perfect, if eerily so, but as far as he was concerned, he was falling apart right before everyone’s eyes and he couldn’t stop himself.
Gallus outright tensed when Victus insulted his centurion’s promotion, and for the first time since the argument had begun he found himself having to restrain himself from speaking.
How dare he call Crucible’s promotion undeserved. Memories of the weeks that had been spent dealing with Domitius flared up in Gallus’ mind for what felt like the first time since the incident. He was not one to recall such things willingly in his spare time—that time had the distinction of being one of the most stressful, awful experiences of his life—but now they seemed to be all that he could focus on despite his own precarious position. How dare Victus stand there and insult Crucible, the one who had recognized and acted on an internal threat in a way Gallus himself would never have even thought to notice, when he should be speaking to him with respect? How dare he even think of questioning how Crucible would discipline one of his own men?
It was all he could do to catch himself and remain silent; though he felt his fist clench and the corner of his lips raise into a near-sneer. The moment of visible anger passed quickly, though; he managed to contain himself once Crucible had spoken again to reassert his dominance in the situation. Gallus’ fist relaxed at his side and a flash of what could only be described as triumph flashed across his face. The rare display of emotion passed quickly, though, and soon his face had been schooled back into disciplined calm.
Had it not been the current situation, Crucible's words would have gotten a laugh out of Victus. As it was, he was still pissed off and not about to let things go as they were.
"Leave then, coward. But be sure your undisciplined men trouble mine no more."
