Llorca
New Comer

Chronicle of the Iberian General in the Battle of Paris.

2001 AD. The fratricidal war in Gaul had become serious after the announcement that a novus milite challenged the generals of the French electronic army. Surely, in the duel, the one who started with an advantage was General Germano, already self-proclaimed a saint at the Champs-Élysées, for supposed martial merits.
In the year zero of the third millennium Germano, disguised as a tourist, had routed the Parisian rivals, also longing for the staff of command.
The imminence of the assault on the land of the Scots and the Britons had whetted the appetites of the vainglorious Gallic leaders. Some valiant officers paid the price of the deadly struggle: all victorious in their time, like the pair of consuls Dafti, of the fierce lineage of the Punk Huns, or the court conspiracy enthusiast, the former-slave Cassius, or General Garnieri, a glorious Merovingian technocrat with a thick Caesar cut.
But the new challenger, the mysterious gladiator who fights against tyranny, who was he?
It is rumored, in the camps of Lutetia, that the new Spanish or thereabouts contender represented the covert envoy of that tenacious Garnieri who, having lost command, was weaving shady plots from Cathay to Byzantium against Germano.
The reason is simple: the infamous saint betrayed him years ago.

Ludovico, seems to be his name or Ludovic as they call him in Gaul; Llorca is his title in battle.
Like all the brave Iberians, charging on the Seine, Ludovic never spared himself in the fight. Llorca was first a valiant centurion, then an esteemed consul, now freshly appointed as a general. But what was at stake in this single combat?
Certainly the conquest of Gaul, then of the entire world, including the Americas and the hated Britannia. Lombard informants whispered that the newcomer had secretly forged grand pacts with formidable Pagans, the Moorish and Cyrenean troops stationed in the Americas, who fought with great drums and wind instruments: it seems, but this appears blasphemous, that they deployed virago women with great beards and voices to terrify the enemy troops.

In any case, the legions of General Llorca were fresher, more dynamic, and trained by the great tours on tracks across the world. These Gallo-Iberians had the support of the Carthaginian Puni and the Alexandrian Egyptians; what could Germano plot if not retreat into the Black Forest with the Teutons, Sarmatians, and Burgundians?
The retreat was almost yearned for. They even possessed the secret weapon, Llorca's troops: landed from the Americas, haughty Latin or Lusitanian centurions stationed in the Amazon or on the islands of Hispaniola, were ready to intervene. In the hexagon of Llorca, chaos erupted. A whirlwind of jazzy house, feminine soul, and exotic fragrances. The great roar from the bold tents was a delightful mêlée of Africa, the Mediterranean, and the West Indies, and the standards raised in battle bore all foreign names, no longer Gallic or Latin or Germanic. The insignias alluded to the Americas: Indigo Blues, Lalo caught me dancing, The novel sound, My precious thing with Lady Bird.

Camped on the Seine, the troops of Germano, experienced with terror one of the most extraordinary spectacles of their lives. Once Llorca's engineers produced a horrid war pyramid of stern boxes and black amplifiers, with the help of Garnieri's technicians, they aimed the rascally machinery at the centurions.
And with great bewilderment, Germano and his followers heard a terrifying sound, excessively rhythmic, and immediately saw the entire enemy army dance and, damnation, even their own…