Secure what has been earned

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"Yes, the New California Republic..." the Elder repeated, staring directly into my eyes. "I suppose you're not familiar with it."

The truth was, the name barely rang a bell. Maybe it had come up in a report once or from one of the frumentarii. But it hadn't held much significance for us—at least not until now.

"I haven't had the... pleasure," I replied with a hint of sarcasm. "But it seems like you know it well. What exactly are they doing in these lands?"

Andrea sighed, as if the weight of what she was about to say was too heavy to bear. "The New California Republic is an expanding nation. They're on the other side of the mountains, beyond the desert, but they're not satisfied with what they already have. Their sheer numbers have overwhelmed everyone, even our Brotherhood," the Elder said.

"For now, they won't be a problem. Take her to the slave master," I ordered my men, turning away as they led the Elder off. A republic that had managed to survive the harsh post-apocalyptic conditions... that was rare. Republics usually collapsed quickly into dictatorships under constant pressure from adversity. What a shame.

'If my refuge had been in their territory...,' I thought with a hint of irony. 'Everything would be different. I'd probably be a wealthy businessman by now, with power and stability in those lands. But here, in the Legion, I've had to fight for everything I have. Every promotion, every victory, every favor earned with blood and sweat. And still, I've only managed to gain the favor of a few officers who see meritocracy as something unbreakable.'

Sometimes I wondered if all this effort was worth it. The New California Republic, with its order and structure, offered a picture of prosperity that I'd never find in the Legion.

But I had already invested too much in the Legion to abandon it all and start over in that Republic to the west. I had built my name here, shed blood—both mine and others'—to get to where I was.

After letting go of thoughts of what could have been, I focused on what truly mattered: what came after a great victory. In the Legion, battles weren't just fought with weapons, but with words, influence, and cunning. The real battle was about to begin: the struggle for the Brotherhood's power armor.

Every legionary who had proven their worth on the field craved one of those suits. It was the perfect opportunity to upgrade their gear or even take a step up in the Legion, aspiring to become a centurion. I knew many would seek me out to try and secure their share of the spoils. Power armor was the key to a life of privilege, respect, and authority within the Legion, and few would let that chance slip by.

Back at the camp, the atmosphere was thick with tension. Decani and centurions from other cohorts had gathered, some hoping to claim armor for themselves or their men, others perhaps just there to see how this dispute would be resolved. I knew I had to handle the situation with precision. Simply handing out the armor would be seen as weakness, and in the Legion, weakness was a death sentence.

"Centurion Gaius," said one of the more seasoned decani, approaching with a steady gaze. "My men did good work today. Some of them, I believe, have earned more than just an honorable mention."

I knew this would happen. He wasn't the first and wouldn't be the last to approach, seeking their share of the spoils. Although Nicodemus and I had agreed on the distribution, there were still negotiations to be had. I controlled the true value of the spoils—the power armor that was in working condition—and only I knew how many of them were truly operational.

"Patience, brothers," I said, addressing the gathered decani with a calculated smile. "Everyone will get what they deserve. But remember, power armor is not for those seeking personal glory. These pieces of equipment will be given to those who demonstrate discipline and responsibility to the Legion. Those who wear them must be worthy."

I paused, letting my words sink in among the crowd. "The ones that are too damaged will be dismantled, and their parts will be distributed for everyone's benefit. So, if some of you expect more, you'll have to prove you can bear that burden."

As the decani exchanged glances and began nodding, I saw Nicodemus signaling to me. I walked over to him, knowing that the real negotiation was about to begin.

"Look," Nicodemus began in a low voice, pointing at the piled armor. "The ones that are operational and repairable are yours. The more legionaries you put in these suits, the better it'll be for everyone. But leave the rest to me. The ones that can't be repaired, I'll distribute as I see fit. I don't want fights over something that's already broken."

I raised an eyebrow, pretending to be surprised. "Oh, Nicodemus... that leaves you with all the paths to promotion among the legionaries. You increase your influence while I just get more gear."

Nicodemus smirked, acknowledging my point. "And you get what you need without stirring up more disputes, Gaius. This keeps balance in our forces. So, what do you say?"

I extended my hand with an ironic smile. "Seems like a fair deal to me."

Nicodemus laughed, refusing the handshake. "Ha, I wasn't born yesterday, Gaius. You'd crush my hand with that mechanical arm of yours." And with a grin, he turned and walked toward his men to begin distributing the armor parts.

I quickly moved toward the pile of power armor, taking all the pieces that were in good condition or could be repaired. By the end of the day, I had secured nearly seventy suits of T-40 and T-50 models, valuable pieces that would increase the power of my cohort. Meanwhile, Nicodemus busied himself dismantling over a hundred damaged suits, distributing the steel parts among the legionaries he deemed worthy of such a prize. He knew what he was doing—every piece of armor was a promise for the future, a seed of loyalty and promotion for those around him.

Once I finished selecting the best pieces, I turned to my men. I knew there was more at stake than just the equipment. The real power wasn't just in the armor, but in the loyalty of those who wore it. And that was an advantage Nicodemus and I shared, but one that each of us would use differently.

After finishing the distribution of the spoils, I headed toward the slave master's tent. I had something clear in mind: buying all the Brotherhood of Steel prisoners. These weren't ordinary tribals or simple profligates. Their technological knowledge, military training, and organization made them a valuable asset—something I could make better use of than the Legion would under normal circumstances.

The slave master was overseeing several captives, who still showed signs of resistance, though now they were chained and collared. As he saw me approach, he looked up, noticing my presence and the intent in my eyes.

"Centurion Gaius," he greeted, his tone polite. "What can I do for you today?"

"I want to buy all the Brotherhood of Steel prisoners," I said directly, no beating around the bush.

The slave master raised an eyebrow, surprised. "All of them? But they're just captives, they haven't earned the right to be called slaves until I've trained them properly," he said, his tone a mix of doubt and caution.

"They're more valuable than you think. They can help with specialized work on machinery or even in the assembly of power armor. Their knowledge is a resource that will be worth much in the future," I responded calmly, knowing that what I proposed was an investment that would pay off later.

The slave master frowned, clearly weighing his options. "Yes, but… I'm not too comfortable selling a defective product, untrained," he murmured, with a mix of concern and resignation. "But I can't refuse a centurion's request... Ah… fine, let's make it simple, two thousand aureus for the lot," he finally said, after thinking it over carefully.

I nodded, knowing the price was steep, but fair considering the strategic value these prisoners would hold in my projects. With the deal sealed, I gave orders for the captured Brotherhood members to be transported to my facilities.

As the slave master gave the orders to release my new prisoners, I approached Elder Andrea Brixley, still chained alongside her comrades.

"I hope you understand what I've just done," I said quietly. "Your life and those of your men now belong to me. But if you cooperate, you won't have to suffer like the other slaves of the Legion."

Andrea glared at me with disdain, though behind her eyes, resignation was evident. She knew she didn't have many options left. After a long silence, she asked, "What do you want from us?"

"You'll work in the factories, assembling more power armor for the Legion. It's a much better fate than what you could've expected under other circumstances," I replied, watching her reaction. "But before you get too comfortable with that idea, I have one last question for you, Andrea..." I paused deliberately, ensuring she felt the weight of what was coming. "Do you know anything about Vault 0?"

Andrea hesitated for a moment.

"Vault 0," I repeated, this time with a sharper tone. "Don't play dumb. If you know something, now is the time to speak."

She shook her head again, clearly aware that there was no way out.

"Alright, no more questions," I said.

"Nothing else?" Andrea asked with a trace of incredulity, but I didn't respond. My eyes locked onto hers for a moment, then I turned away, making it clear that continuing was pointless. The information about Vault 0 would stay in my mind for now.

"Take them to my castra," I ordered my men, referring to the Brotherhood prisoners.

I headed toward my vertibird, ready to report the victory to Legate Lanius. We had crushed the Brotherhood's resistance in the region, and their lands, along with their secrets, now belonged to the Legion.

After several hours of flight, I arrived at the legate's camp, located on the eastern borders of the Legion. Unlike the larger and more bustling camps, this one was small, but what it lacked in size, it made up for with the presence of the most veteran legionaries of the campaign. There was no place here for rookies or inexperienced soldiers; every man in the camp had proven his worth in multiple battles and campaigns.

As I landed, I noticed that the few motorized carriages and vehicles were well-maintained and organized. The vexillarius carried Caesar's standards with quiet pride, and the centurions conversed in low voices while their eyes scanned the horizon, aware that they could be called to action at any moment.

I disembarked from the vertibird and was met by a decanus. "Centurion Gaius," he greeted me with a slight bow. "Legate Lanius is expecting you in the main tent."

Entering the command tent, I found Lanius, examining a map and giving instructions to one of his frumentarii. Upon seeing me, he lifted his gaze and, with a wave of his hand, dismissed the soldier accompanying him.

"Centurion Gaius," he said in his firm voice, his penetrating gaze capable of cutting through steel. "Take a seat. What happened? Did the Brotherhood of Steel prove tougher than we thought, and do we need more forces to break them?" Lanius asked.

"No, Legate. All the Brotherhood forces have been defeated, and now they're either dead or captured. Right now, the spoils are being divided among the legionaries as we speak," I replied.

Lanius observed me in silence for a few seconds, processing the information. Finally, he nodded slowly.

"Interesting. I didn't expect them to fall so quickly. The Brotherhood of Steel has always been known for their resistance and technological warfare tactics. That you managed to defeat them without reinforcements speaks volumes about Nicodemus, your men… and you, Gaius." His tone was neutral, but I could sense the weight behind his words.

"Then, are we now marching against the Hangdogs?" I asked, keeping my gaze fixed on Lanius.

"I would like to," Lanius replied, with a more contemplative tone than usual, "but first we must ensure our positions are consolidated. According to the scouts, the Hangdogs have a large population, along with a vast network of scavengers and collectors in their city. Not to mention the hundreds of thousands of dogs they control. For the first time, we would be outnumbered."

Lanius seemed to be reflecting on the situation, something unusual for him. It was not typical for the Legion to be at a numerical disadvantage, and even less so for Lanius to admit it openly.

"The campaign will halt for the time being, likely for a year and a half or two years. We need to take advantage of the resources we've acquired, consolidate our positions, and use the technology we've captured to our benefit," said Lanius, his tone firm and calculated.

I nodded. I knew that although the pause in the campaign might seem like a chance to rest, in reality, it was quite the opposite. There was much to be done. With the territories we had conquered and the Brotherhood's technology in our hands, there was a significant amount of work to reorganize the forces, train new recruits, and, most importantly, improve our equipment using the captured advancements.

"Legate, may I request two things?" I asked Lanius, knowing that if I needed to ask for anything, now was the right time.

Lanius fixed me with his gaze, as if evaluating my intentions. His look was stern, but there was a certain respect in his tone. "Speak, Centurion."

"That my cohort remains stationed in the lands of the Twin Mothers to assist with the construction of infrastructure, train the locals, and conduct a mission behind the Hangdogs' lines. One of the data points I possess indicates that Vault 0 is located near some mountains, and the technology it may contain could be invaluable," I told the Legate.

Lanius scrutinized me with his cold eyes, calculating every word I had spoken. Then, with a stern yet controlled tone, he responded, "The Hangdogs will be on alert after our presence. Your idea won't bear immediate results. I won't risk any moves before the right time. You'll need to wait until our attack comes first, and afterward, if the situation permits, you may investigate whatever is in Vault 0. But yes, I accept your cohort's assignment to the lands of the Twin Mothers."

"Thank you, Legate. I will patiently await our campaign against the Hangdogs," I said, bowing my head in respect before leaving the tent.

I immediately set off in the vertibird toward where my men were stationed. The fresh afternoon air filled the camp as the legionaries completed the final preparations for our relocation. Nicodemus had already begun organizing the soldiers, and the slaves moved quickly, loading supplies and equipment for our journey to the Twin Mothers' lands.

I approached Nicodemus, who greeted me with a confident smile. "What did the Legate say?" he asked as he adjusted his armor.

"We're heading to the Twin Mothers, as planned. It will be our new base for a while. Lanius wants the area fortified and prepared for the next steps of the Legion. There will be no incursions behind the Hangdogs' lines until the order is given. For now, our mission is to establish a solid base, while you take care of containing any Hangdog incursions," I explained.

"I see. When you return, bring plenty of your men in power armor. Battles are much easier when we can quickly get into close combat because they're too busy trying to shoot you down," Nicodemus said, laughing.

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