Render unto Caesar

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Finally, with all the knowledge and advanced machinery at my disposal, creating weaponry at the level used by the U.S. Army before the war was no longer a distant dream. All that was needed was time and vast resources—and fortunately, I had both. Lanius was busy pacifying his recent conquests and securing control over the thousands of slaves he had captured for the Legion. While he consolidated his domain, I had the space to focus on my task: industry.

The arrival of my men with the new machinery we had recovered from Vault 0 would be the next crucial step. With those tools, I could not only produce modern weaponry but also develop advanced armor for the legionary infantry and modify the power armor to a completely new level. The blueprints we had found in the old West-Tek factory and the remnants of the Brotherhood of Steel's technology gave me the opportunity to combine the best of various technological eras.

What was once a zone of limited resources and improvised equipment was now taking shape as a cutting-edge industry. I had everything necessary to revolutionize the Legion's arsenal: from mass-producing automatic rifles to developing advanced ballistic armor and optimizing power armor.

Everything seemed to be in perfect balance. The mines operated tirelessly, with relentless robots extracting resources day and night. The foundries worked at full capacity, fueled by thousands of slaves who transformed those resources into processed materials. Trains arrived daily, unloading tons of minerals, and vehicles were loaded with weapons and supplies ready for distribution. The entire system appeared to function with unrelenting precision, just as I had planned. 'I might soon need to expand the trains into other parts of the Legion's territory or try to unify my lines with the Legion's railways,' I thought, 'but for now, everything was perfect.'

However, perfection rarely lasts long. As I reviewed the reports, a decanus burst into my workspace, his urgent tone cutting through the usual routine.

''Centurion Gaius, Son of Mars, Unifier of Arizona, Crucifier of the Profligates, Pacifier of the Wasteland... Lord Caesar demands your immediate presence in Flagstaff,'' the decanus announced with a bow marked by respect and the weight of the message.

My expression hardened. 'Caesar does not send such messages lightly. Something important is in motion.'

'They can't leave me in peace for just a few months...' I thought.

''What is it, Decanus? Why does the Son of Mars honor me with an invitation to the heart of the Legion?'' I asked the decanus.

The Decanus, a burly man with a face hardened by the wasteland's sun, adjusted his sunglasses as he looked at me with a mixture of respect and caution.

''I am not privileged to know the thoughts of the Son of Mars,'' the Decanus said, adjusting his sunglasses. ''I only know that a radio message was sent to Castra Sol Rubrum for you, Centurion Gaius. Lord Caesar requires your presence in Flagstaff immediately. I would suggest you stop wasting time... with whatever it is you are doing, and depart at once. Caesar does not like to wait, much less be ignored.''

'Wasting time...?' I thought, suppressing any gesture that would reveal my frustration. 'Wasting time... I'm here creating armor so your head doesn't get blown off or so you don't have to fight with a machete, and yet I'm told I'm wasting time.'

''Understood, Decanus,'' I responded coolly, maintaining composure. Arguing at this moment was pointless. I had learned that in the Legion, obedience was the currency. The Decanus retreated, having fulfilled his duty.

'Damn... all this requires complex analysis and a lot of trial and error,' I thought, my frustration growing. 'This isn't something I can leave to anyone else. I doubt they could even comprehend the material reports or how to adapt the machinery... but I can't ignore Caesar's orders.'

I clenched my fists and gritted my teeth, feeling the weight of the decision on my shoulders. Just then, I felt the firm hand of McKinley's power armor rest on my shoulder.

''Go without worry, boss,'' McKinley said with a smile that, despite her light tone, showed her seriousness. ''I'll make sure everything's ready when you return... and your bed warm.''

The tension I felt eased slightly, though the concern about leaving everything in the hands of others did not vanish. 'I suppose I have no choice,' I thought. 'Caesar waits, and when Caesar calls, you cannot fail.'

''Thank you, McKinley,'' I replied, nodding as I prepared to leave. ''Take good care of everything here... and yourself. I can't afford anything to go wrong in my absence.''

I stood up and donned my power armor, adjusting each piece with the precision that combat demanded. The familiar sensation of power in my movements reassured me as I headed to find Cato and Drusus. I knew exactly where to find them: at the arena, enjoying the fights.

When I arrived, the noise of the crowd and the clash of weapons filled the air. Slaves and legionaries fought fiercely against each other, while some faced wild beasts brought in by merchants from distant lands for the gladiatorial games. The smell of blood and sweat permeated the atmosphere, and the shouts of the combatants and the crowd echoed throughout the makeshift coliseum.

Cato and Drusus stood, watching with enthusiasm as one of the slaves, armed only with a machete, attempted to take down a massive wild dog. The animal moved with agility, but the slave, though wounded, did not yield an inch.

''Centurion,'' Cato greeted me as I approached, without taking his eyes off the fight. ''Ready for another adventure?''

Drusus nodded with a grin, always enjoying the brutality of the arena. ''Looks like our boys are ready for anything... but tell me, what's next for us?''

''Caesar has sent orders. We must leave for Flagstaff immediately,'' I said bluntly.

Both legionaries nodded, and though for a moment their faces reflected disappointment at having their fun interrupted, that expression was quickly replaced by a spark of excitement at the thought of meeting Caesar in person.

''To see the Son of Mars... an opportunity not many have,'' Drusus commented, his eyes gleaming, as he turned to give orders to the other legionaries watching the arena.

Cato, for his part, began preparing quickly. ''Something big awaits if Caesar himself has summoned us. This is no ordinary task.''

I nodded, watching as both men moved with renewed energy. Caesar's summons was like a war drum, igniting ambition in the hearts of all legionaries who had been indoctrinated into the cult of Mars.

With my trusted men—two newly appointed centurions and two other legionaries equipped with power armor—we boarded the vertibird without delay. We didn't know what mission awaited us, but we were ready for anything. The journey took several hours, as the distance between Flagstaff and my settlement was considerable.

Midway through the trip, I took the radio to inform them of our imminent arrival. We weren't dealing with Lanius's decanus or Nicodemus, who knew me well. If the vertibird approached without prior notice, they would likely greet it with a missile—an outcome I wanted to avoid.

''Vertibird en route, identification Centurion Gaius. Approach authorized, requesting a safe landing in Flagstaff.'' After a few moments of silence, the radio crackled back: ''Received, Centurion. Authorization granted. Awaiting your arrival.''

The rest of the trip passed without incident. My men remained silent, each lost in their own thoughts.

When we landed, a large group of veteran legionaries surrounded us, weapons at the ready. The tension in the air was palpable, each legionary prepared to act at the slightest provocation.

''Lower your weapons... lower your weapons! It's Centurion Gaius, summoned by the Son of Mars!'' a decanus shouted as he rushed toward us, desperate to calm the situation.

When he finally reached us, panting and with a look of shame on his face, he gave a slight bow. ''Centurion, I apologize for such a poor reception... I didn't know it was a vertibird... I thought it was some kind of ground vehicle. We expected a truck, a motorcycle, or a carriage.''

''It's fine, Decanus. Stay alert; we're here to reinforce the Legion, not alarm it.'' Then I looked at my men. ''Come on, we can't keep the Son of Mars waiting.''

''Yes... give me a moment to inform Lord Caesar of your arrival,'' the decanus said, still recovering from the scare. ''The message wasn't sent long ago, so Lord Caesar wasn't expecting you until next week.''

'Perfect... more time wasted,' I thought, nodding as I suppressed my frustration.

''Go and do it, Decanus. We'll wait,'' I replied aloud, keeping my composure.

The decanus hurried off, and in the meantime, I stood with my men. Drusus and Cato seemed impatient, though they hid it well.

''Well, gentlemen,'' I said, glancing at both. ''Looks like we arrived ahead of schedule. What do you think awaits us this time?''

Drusus quickly replied with a playful grin. ''A personal slave, maybe? One of the beauties... or better yet, the chance to enter the Praetorian guard.'' His tone was that of a child daydreaming.

One of the centurions who had followed me, more serious, clenched his fists with determination. ''It must be the latter. I've trained my whole life for that.'' The ambition and desire to prove himself were evident in his voice.

Cato, as always, remained cool and calculating. ''A mission,'' he said, crossing his arms. He wasn't one to be swept up in fantasies, always focused on what mattered.

I chuckled softly, looking at my men. ''Whatever it is, gentlemen, we're here for a reason. The rewards will come, but first, we must earn them. And knowing Caesar, it won't be easy.''

After nearly an hour of conversation with my men, the decanus finally returned. ''Lord Caesar is expecting you,'' he said firmly, motioning for us to follow him.

We walked behind him, leaving behind the commotion of the legionaries and the scattered tents at the outer edges. As we advanced, the camp faded away, giving way to a true stone fortress, built to reflect the grandeur and power of the Legion. The walls rose imposingly, with watchtowers at each corner, and atop the battlements, Praetorians watched with stern gazes, their armor gleaming in the sunlight.

The main entrance was flanked by two massive iron gates, wide open, through which only the most privileged could pass.

The Legion's banners fluttered proudly from high above as rows of legionaries trained tirelessly in the inner courtyards.

We made our way toward the heart of the fortress, where the most imposing structure stood: Caesar's palace. It was a black stone building, adorned with statues and emblems that told the story of the Legion's conquests. As we approached, the decanus seemed to shrink in the presence of the fortress's grandeur.

We stopped in front of a massive bronze door, guarded by two Praetorians who, upon seeing us, opened it with precise synchronization. The decanus gave a respectful gesture and allowed us to enter.

The interior of the palace was even more impressive. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting Caesar's victories, and at the center of the grand hall, on an elevated throne, sat Caesar himself, surrounded by his advisors and Praetorians.

I approached, my men behind me, bowing my head slightly in respect. I wasn't sure if he wanted me to kneel or stand. ''Ave, Caesar,'' I said firmly, aware of the solemnity of the moment.

Caesar watched us with that inscrutable gaze that seemed to pierce through steel. He made a slight gesture with his hand, signaling for us to come closer. ''Centurion Gaius,'' he began in his deep, resonant voice, ''you have responded to my call earlier than expected.''

''The order of Lord Caesar must be answered swiftly,'' I replied, meeting Caesar's gaze.

''You do honor to how Lanius described you. Remove your helmet. I want to see the face of the man who has proven so useful to the Legion,'' Caesar commanded, his voice firm but with a hint of curiosity.

I felt the eyes of those present—Praetorians and advisors alike—settle on me as I removed my helmet, standing firm and showing no emotion.

Caesar, leaning slightly forward on his throne, continued: ''Lanius has spoken much of you, of your valor, of your ability to handle technology others can only dream of understanding. But he has also told me of your successes in the campaign.''

''That is why you are here, Centurion Gaius...'' interrupted a voice that echoed through the hall as a man stepped forward.

''Indeed,'' Caesar continued, nodding with a cold smile. ''Legate Malpais believes that your skills would be wasted merely pacifying the remaining profligates. Therefore, I am offering you an opportunity, one far greater than any you have had before.''

The air in the room grew tense as Caesar leaned forward in his throne. ''Lanius's campaign has ended for now. We have thousands of legionaries idle, warriors who need to continue gaining combat experience. We will not allow them to stagnate. Everything will be directed toward a new campaign... and you, Gaius, will lead it.''

My eyes met Caesar's as he spoke with unshakable authority. ''Legate Gaius, you will take the south... Mexicanorum. In my name, you will conquer their cities and enslave their people. Their wealth and resources will flow to the Legion, and when the time comes to launch the grand campaign to the west, they will be ready to support our advance into California.''

''What do you say, Gaius?'' Caesar asked, his eyes piercing into mine. ''Are you ready to carry the Legion's banner into new lands and ensure the profligates of Mexicanorum kneel before my will?''

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