Filling the void

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Finally, I had my hands on a proper suit of power armor. The Vault-Tec servo armor was designed for reconstruction and to withstand post-apocalyptic environments, but what I had now were several sets of West-Tek armor, specifically from the T-45 and T-50 series. However, what interested me the most was the complete T-51B armor. I had managed to assemble it by using parts from two enemies: the lower half of one, whose helmet we had destroyed, and the helmet from another, whose chest we had crushed. With that, I finally had a full set of armor.

The difference between the armors was noticeable. The Vault-Tec servo armor provided immense strength due to the lack of heavy plating, making it ideal for construction work and handling heavy objects. However, the West-Tek armor, with its thick plating, was much more resistant. It could withstand shots from anti-materiel rifles without much trouble, though it remained vulnerable to high-penetration rounds. That said, its weight was considerably greater, and all the extra strength from the servos was dedicated to moving those massive armor plates.

I felt the weight of the armor as I adjusted it. It was a balance between mobility and resistance, and now that I had it in my possession, I could endure much more on the battlefield.

I examined the energy weapons we had captured. Although these weapons had the potential to surpass the rifles my legionaries carried, there was a significant problem: ammunition. I had no idea how to recharge these energy weapons, nor did we have access to the necessary resources to keep them operational on a constant basis. If we used them in combat, sooner or later, we would run out of ammunition, and that could be fatal in the middle of a battle.

It wasn't a risk I could afford, so I decided it would be wiser to sell most of these weapons. However, I would keep some in reserve, just in case I managed to secure a stable source of ammunition at some point. In the meantime, my legionaries would continue relying on steel and lead, weapons of trust that had never failed us.

The Brotherhood of Steel was becoming a formidable enemy. I lost several legionaries facing them, as after the initial ambushes, they were much more alert to our presence. Their patrols became larger and better organized, making them harder to confront. However, to me, that meant something positive: more power armor to capture if I could defeat them.

We managed to capture one of their high-ranking officers alive, though we didn't obtain much relevant information. Still, I was able to understand their structure better. Only the paladins had access to full power armor. The rest, the knights, only used servo armor frames without plating, making them more vulnerable, while the initiates or scribes barely wore padded clothing. Every paladin we brought down meant a full set of power armor, but if we damaged them too much in combat, we would only get parts, making it harder to gather complete sets.

The most interesting discovery was how careless they were with their communications. It didn't take long for me to intercept the signal through which they transmitted their orders. Now, I could listen to all their movements, which made hunting them much easier. I could anticipate their patrols, know when they panicked and called for reinforcements. It was only a matter of time before we completely dismantled their presence in this region, and with that, I would have a considerable amount of power armor and advanced equipment at my disposal.

Our hunt for the Brotherhood of Steel lasted for almost two weeks, a period in which I received no direct orders from Lanius. As was typical of his leadership, the implied recommendation was simple: find something and kill it. And that's what we did. The Brotherhood spent numerous resources patrolling the area, making our ambushes a constant. My four hundred legionaries and I launched frequent attacks, managing to bring down several paladins. With each victory, we increased our stockpile of servo armor, to the point where I trained another ten men in its use, raising the number of men in my cohort equipped with full servo armor to twenty, though only half had fully functional war armor.

The end of our hunt came when I heard on the Brotherhood's radio that they were retreating entirely from the area, overwhelmed by the losses we had inflicted. We had gained ground and equipment, consolidating our strength. I hold the belief that they won't take long to reorganize and return, but for now, the territory is ours.

The Brotherhood of Steel's retreat was good news. They had done all the heavy lifting by defeating the Scorpion Bite tribe, eliminating any organized resistance. Now, with the power vacuum left behind, my men and I had the perfect opportunity to take control of the main settlements without significant opposition. We advanced deep into tribal territory, ready to solidify our position.

Upon entering the city called Bastion, an ancient stronghold of the tribe and the last refuge of their leader before the Brotherhood took control, I paused to observe. It was the typical bomb-ravaged city, with rudimentary repairs made by its inhabitants. The Brotherhood's control had left clear marks of their occupation, but also a void ready to be filled.

As my legionaries secured the streets, a thought struck me: This would be a conquest, and according to the customs of the Legion, I should enslave them… but they have not faced us directly. Did they surrender to us? If so, there would be no need to treat them as captives but as subjects of the Legion.

Since there wasn't even the slightest attempt at resistance from the locals, the wisest course of action was to offer them a chance to submit before resorting to harsher measures. It wouldn't be the first time a defeated people chose to bow to the Legion rather than face its wrath. So, accompanied by a group of my legionaries, I decided to head to an area where the tribals typically gathered.

The streets were empty, the tension palpable in the air. They knew we were here; they had to know who we were and what we represented. My servo armor echoed with every step.

Upon reaching what appeared to be a central plaza, I saw several villagers watching us from the shadows, their faces a mix of fear and expectation. I raised my hand, signaling my men to form a defensive line, showing them our readiness for action.

"People of Bastion!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the plaza. "Your tribe has been defeated. There is no honor in continuing to resist. You have a choice: submit to the will of the Legion, become subjects of Lord Caesar, or face annihilation. The decision is in your hands. I offer you this one chance to preserve your lives and those of your families."

The silence was deafening as we awaited the tribals' response.

After my declaration, the silence in the plaza stretched a few moments longer before a middle-aged man, probably one of the local leaders, stepped forward. His face was marked by scars, likely earned in tribal wars, but his expression showed more resignation than defiance.

"We know what happens to those who oppose the Legion," he said in a firm but broken voice. "We've seen what happened to the Sundogs and other tribes. We don't want that fate for our families. If we surrender, what guarantees do we have that our lives will be respected?"

My gaze hardened. "This isn't about guarantees; it's about obedience. Accept Caesar's will, and you will live under his rules. Those who serve the Legion well will have a place among its subjects. For every slave whose back is broken by labor, there is a farmer thanking Lord Caesar for ridding the land of bandits. But disobey... or attempt to deceive us, and nothing will remain of this city or your history. There will be work, plenty of it, but you'll stay alive."

The tribal leader lowered his head, knowing he had no other options. "We accept. We will submit."

"Listen well," I said firmly, addressing both the tribal leader and his people. "I want a detailed report of everything this city produces. You have twenty-four hours to provide it. Any error or attempt to hide your productive capabilities, and I assure you, all of you will wear slave collars. When I finish my review, you'll be allowed to self-govern, under the supervision of Legion administrative officers to ensure the tribute to Lord Caesar."

The tribal leader tried to interrupt. "Excuse me…"

"Centurion Gaius," I corrected sharply.

"Centurion Gaius, I don't believe we can meet your demands in such a short time," he replied nervously.

"Then you'd better start working now," I replied coldly. "Because I've already given my order. If you fail, you'll all be enslaved. That will only mean you never intended to submit to Lord Caesar in the first place."

The tribal leader nodded, nervous, and began organizing his people to comply with my demand. I didn't have much time to wait. I knew the sooner I brought this city under control, the sooner I could put it to work for the Legion.

As I watched them disperse to gather the information I had requested, I stepped back to my position alongside my men. Drusus, one of my closest legionaries, approached me with his eyes fixed on the tribal leader.

"Do you think they'll comply, Centurion?" Drusus asked, his tone showing a hint of doubt.

"They have no choice, Drusus. Either they bring me what I asked for, or they end up with collars around their necks. Slavery is a fate they fear more than death, and that will make them act quickly," I replied calmly, watching the tribe's movements.

The sun began to set on the horizon, and time was running out for these tribals. While they worked frantically, I reviewed the maps of the region. Bastion, as they called it, wasn't the only important city in this area. There were other smaller villages that would also need to be controlled to ensure the stability of the region. However, with the Brotherhood of Steel out of the picture, things looked simpler, for now.

That night we camped near the city, keeping a close eye on any suspicious movement. If these tribals thought about betraying us, they were sorely mistaken. The Legion does not forgive.

As the morning sun began to illuminate the city again, the tribal leader and a group of his advisors approached me, carrying scrolls and tablets filled with information.

"Centurion Gaius, here is what you requested. The production of food, minerals, and any other resources we have. We've hidden nothing," said the leader, as he laid the papers before me,who had terrible but legible handwriting.

I took the papers and quickly reviewed them. My eyes lingered on certain key details: the wheat and corn crops seemed abundant, and there was some production of metals useful to the Legion. Nothing impressive, but enough to keep the place under control without causing major issues.

"This will suffice," I said without looking up from the document. "For now."

The tribal leader sighed in relief, but he didn't realize that the true weight of the Legion was only beginning to fall upon them.

"Now, production supervision will begin. Tributes will be sent to the Legion monthly. Any discrepancy, any delay or shortage, and slavery will be your fate. There will be no more warnings." I cast one final look at them before ordering my men to set up the necessary measures to keep everything under control.

"Cato, you're in charge for now. I'll take a centuria north to bring another city of this tribe under our control," I said to my decanus, who nodded with his usual calm demeanor.

The next destination was Pueblo City. Unlike Bastion, this city was much more populated, but it lacked resources. As we approached, I observed its walls and crowded streets, but poverty was evident. It was a large city, but everything was scarce: food, minerals, tools. They depended almost entirely on trade connections with Bastion, and without that support network, this city was little more than an empty shell filled with hungry mouths.

When I met with the local leaders, I offered them the same deal: submit and provide tribute to the Legion, or face slavery. But here, even the local leaders understood they had nothing to offer. There was no tribute they could gather to meet the Legion's demands. Pueblo City had neither the wealth of Bastion nor the infrastructure to sustain itself in times of war.

With the decision already made before any real negotiation could begin, I gave the order: "This city will fall into slavery." It was the only utility they could provide. Labor. Thousands of men, women, and children were shackled, and in the days that followed, my cohort marched all the inhabitants south, into Legion lands, where they would be distributed as slaves to work in future expansions.

Pueblo City, despite being one of the largest of the tribe, had no future. Now, its people would be used for the glory of the Legion, while I ensured none of them escaped.