Numbers versus quality II

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The battles continued with relentless brutality. The Brotherhood of Steel, with all its technology and experience, wasn't prepared for the overwhelming number of legionaries charging against them. Even as the men and women of the Brotherhood fired at everything they saw, the legionaries kept advancing like fanatics, unwavering in their devotion and obedience to Caesar's cause.

Laser rifles crackled, tracing red lines across the battlefield, but every shot that found a target only delayed the inevitable. Every fallen legionary was replaced by two more, advancing without pause, without fear of death. In the eyes of the Brotherhood, the realization dawned that they couldn't stop this human tide.

"Fall back! Retreat to Bunker Maxon! Don't try to fight, you're being surrounded!" Elder Andrea Brixley's voice echoed over the radios, filled with panic and frustration. We could hear her desperately trying to organize a retreat, but with every order she gave, our efforts intensified.

The Brotherhood's groups, attempting to resist, were systematically isolated. My legionaries, especially those equipped with the captured power armor, moved swiftly to cut off escape routes, surrounding the paladins and their companions. The anti-material rifles, which had been so effective in previous ambushes, continued to pierce through the heavy armor of the Brotherhood.

"Why are there paladins on their side?" a desperate voice shouted over the radio, laden with confusion and fear. The question echoed through the transmissions as the Brotherhood's fighters struggled to comprehend how their own power armor was now fighting for the Legion.

I smiled behind my visor. The psychological impact I was aiming for was working. The Brotherhood of Steel hadn't expected to see their own weapons turned against them, let alone used so effectively. My legionaries, clad in the captured power armor, moved like lethal shadows amid the chaos of battle.

"A grave mistake, getting too confident," I murmured to myself, watching as the Brotherhood's resistance began to collapse, pushed by confusion and desperation. The sound of their laser rifles grew more sporadic as our forces closed in.

We capitalized on the commotion. Every step we took toward them brought them closer to their end. The lack of cohesion in their ranks was evident. The paladins, weakened and disoriented, fell one by one, unable to withstand the relentless pressure from the Legion.

Veteran legionaries shouted fervently, invoking Caesar's name as they advanced, cutting through what was left of the Brotherhood's defenses. It was only a matter of time before the last survivors of this force were crushed or forced to surrender.

"Finish them off!" some centurions shouted as the legionaries charged like an unstoppable tide. But it was in hand-to-hand combat where the true power of the Legion was revealed. The formidable centurions, armed with mighty swords and heavy axes, launched themselves at the knights and paladins of the Brotherhood of Steel. Here, the reason they were the elite of the Legion was made clear.

With brutal strength, the centurions struck with devastating precision, crushing the power armor of their opponents or breaking through their armored plates. Every blow shattered helmets or turned the unarmored initiates into pulp, their padded suits offering little defense. The Brotherhood's resistance, though formidable with their technological defenses, crumbled before the unstoppable force of the Legion.

The paladins, who had distinguished themselves in so many battles, couldn't withstand the onslaught of the centurions. Even though their power armor offered protection, the coordinated push from the legionaries, followed by the deadly charges of the centurions, was too much. Several of them were brought down, their helmets smashed, their bodies lifeless on the ground, as the legionaries advanced mercilessly, shouting in honor of Caesar.

The metallic clash of Legion weapons against power armor echoed like a war drum as the battle turned into a slaughter. The field filled with the cries of the fallen and the thunder of heavy weapons.

The carnage continued unabated as our forces, mounted in motorized vehicles, relentlessly harassed the scattered patrols of the Brotherhood. The legionaries, thirsting for blood and victory, chased after the retreating paladins and knights. Despite their superior technology, the Brotherhood's heavy armor became a disadvantage in this frenzied pursuit. Slowly but surely, we were closing in.

The vehicles tore across the rough terrain, kicking up clouds of dust as the legionaries' rifles spat death behind them. The few who tried to resist could do nothing against the coordinated waves bearing down on them. Several paladins fell, either brought down by precise shots or crushed in the chaos of battle.

"Don't let them escape!" I shouted, raising my voice over the roar of engines and the clamor of battle. The Brotherhood, despite their tenacity, was being cornered, forced to retreat further and further toward their last stronghold: Bunker Maxon.

The survivors of the patrols were driven back, wounded and desperate. Every time they tried to make a final stand, we made sure to dismantle their position with coordinated attacks. Rifle fire and grenade explosions shattered their lines, breaking their defenses one after another.

Finally, the colossal entrance to Bunker Maxon came into view, its heavy steel doors sealed as the Brotherhood's last hope.

Dozens of Brotherhood members were trapped outside the bunker, caught between our forces and the impenetrable steel doors. Chaos engulfed them as they desperately sought refuge, but there was no escape. The legionaries pressed forward relentlessly, surrounding them completely, while the anti-material rifle users prepared to destroy any further attempts at resistance.

The paladins, in their heavy power armor, tried to hold out, but they were clearly outnumbered. Even as their energy rifles fired furiously, the legionaries, ever tireless and disciplined, kept charging with unstoppable ferocity. Some knights attempted to form a final defensive line, but their efforts were futile. The centurions led the assault, crushing any remaining resistance with their powerful melee weapons.

"Surrender or die!" I shouted, my voice booming across the battlefield.

Some of the Brotherhood, seeing no way out, began to drop their weapons and raise their hands, but others, more stubborn, chose to fight to the bitter end. Those who opted for combat were quickly cut down, their armor crushed under the brutal force of the legionaries.

As I watched the slaughter unfold, I approached the prisoners who had chosen to surrender. Their gazes were a mix of hatred and despair.

"Chain the survivors," I ordered my men. "They'll be useful later, either as slaves or as bargaining chips."

The sound of shackles echoed as the last surviving members of the Brotherhood of Steel were captured, their dreams of victory and glory shattered. Bunker Maxon was in sight, but what came next would be even more difficult: breaching it and crushing what remained of this rebellious faction.

The bodies of the paladins, still inside their imposing power armor, lay motionless, their helmets smashed and metal plates perforated by our anti-material rifle shots. Around them, the remains of initiates and scribes mingled with dust and blood, while some legionaries walked among the bodies, collecting any equipment that could still be useful.

"They fought well, but the superiority of the Legion is undeniable," I murmured to myself as the surviving legionaries began organizing the battlefield and chaining the remaining prisoners.

The scent of blood, burnt metal, and gunpowder hung in the air, as the wind carried away the smoke from the last explosions.

"And now, what? Can you open it like you've done before?" Nicodemus asked, wiping blood from his sword, still panting from the combat.

"This time won't be as easy," I replied, eyeing the sealed bunker door. "I don't have access to their codes, but there are other methods. We need to find the ventilation ducts, and if we play our cards right, we might scare them enough to open the doors themselves."

Nicodemus gave a grim smile, understanding the strategy. We knew the Brotherhood members inside the bunker would be waiting for reinforcements or preparing to resist until their last breath, but with enough psychological pressure and a few tricks, we could tip the situation in our favor.

"Go, gather your men and start inspecting the ventilation entrances. If we can gain access to those ducts, we could make them believe we're cutting off their air supply. We don't need to break down the door if they open it themselves out of fear," I said as I turned to survey the area.

I waited patiently for over half an hour until my legionaries finally located six ventilation ducts leading out of the bunker. There was no direct way to open the doors, but I knew I could use those ducts to make contact.

I picked up the radio and spoke calmly, knowing that every word would carry weight. "Elder Andrea, this is Centurion Gaius of Lord Caesar's Legion speaking."

There was a tense pause before the voice, laced with incredulity, responded: "How the hell did you get access to this frequency?"

"Let's just say your communications security isn't as foolproof as you thought," I replied with calculated calm. "Now, listen carefully. You are completely surrounded. You have two options: surrender and save your lives, or resist and be annihilated. I've seen what happens to those who choose poorly, and it isn't a pleasant scene. Do you know about phosgene gas? COCl₂... I'm sure you've heard of it. It's extremely toxic. Maybe the filters in your power armor will keep you alive a little longer, but everyone else inside will die within hours."

I paused, letting my words sink in.

"As we speak, we're synthesizing the gas, and we know exactly where the ventilation ducts to your bunker are located. So, here's the deal: open the doors, lay down your weapons, and raise your hands, and you'll have a chance to live. Otherwise, you and your people will die poisoned, without honor or glory."

The silence stretched long enough to make the tension palpable. I knew Elder Andrea was weighing her options, and each passing second worked in our favor. Fear and desperation would have to be seeping into their ranks by now.

Finally, a voice echoed through the radio. "I don't believe your threats, but we can't take the risk. If you really have the gas, we have no other choice. We'll prepare to surrender..."

I smiled, knowing the pressure had broken them. "Wise decision. You have one hour. When those doors open, I want to see every one of you disarmed and with your hands up. Any resistance, and I won't hesitate to release the gas. Don't waste this opportunity."

I switched off the radio and turned to my men. "Prepare everything. We'll move in as soon as the doors open, but stay alert."

Nicodemus, standing next to me, nodded. "Do you think they'll comply?"

"They will. They don't have another option." In the meantime, we held our strategic positions, ready for anything. The Brotherhood of Steel wasn't known for surrendering easily, but the prospect of a slow, painful death by gas might have done the trick.

Time passed slowly, each minute feeling like an eternity. Finally, the sound of heavy metal sliding and screeching echoed in the distance. The bunker doors were opening. My legionaries took their positions, aiming their weapons at the entrance.

One by one, members of the Brotherhood began to emerge, unarmed, hands raised. Among them was Elder Andrea, the leader of this contingent. Her gaze was cold.

"We've fulfilled our part," she said, with the harsh tone of someone forced into an impossible decision.

"And I'll fulfill mine," I replied, signaling my legionaries to begin chaining them. "You'll live... in service to Caesar."

Nicodemus smiled as he watched the scene. "Good work, Gaius. I never thought I'd see the Brotherhood bow before us."

"There's always a first time," I said, watching as another chapter in the Legion's expansion closed.

Elder Andrea's voice echoed with authority, though her tone betrayed fatigue and frustration. "Hey… you. We surrendered, and we demand honorable treatment for my brothers and sisters. Not slavery."

I slowly turned toward her, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. Her demand, though brave, was out of place in the context of the Legion. I walked toward her, my steps echoing on the metal ground as my legionaries continued to chain the rest.

"Honorable treatment?" I repeated with a slight smile. "You're in no position to demand anything, Elder. You surrendered because you knew you had no other choice. The Legion doesn't grant concessions to the defeated. The only deal I offer you is life. Take it, because the alternative is death... or worse."

Andrea scowled, her eyes burning with anger and helplessness. "We are not like the tribals you subjugate, Centurion. We are the Brotherhood of Steel. If you allow my brothers and sisters to become slaves, there will be no truce. Sooner or later, the Brotherhood will come for you. For all of you."

I stepped a little closer, letting my shadow fall over her. "We'll see about that. But for now, your 'brothers and sisters' will serve the Legion like everyone else we've conquered. If you wanted to fight for your freedom, you should've fought harder on the battlefield. Here, there's no honor but in serving Caesar."

Nicodemus chuckled behind me, enjoying the exchange. "Well said, Gaius. If they want freedom, they can earn it with sweat and blood, like the rest."

Elder Andrea clenched her fists, her rage palpable, but she knew she was trapped. "You're making a grave mistake... one that will cost you dearly."

"Oh, look how I tremble in fear... I claim her as a trophy. I suppose you have no objections, Nicodemus?" I said, turning to look at my fellow centurion.

Nicodemus shrugged with a half-smile. "No, the victory is yours. I just filled the gaps with the thousands of men Lanius gave me."

"Good, because I have a few questions for this woman," I replied as I approached Elder Andrea. She tried to stand firm, but I could see in her eyes that she understood well what her new fate meant.

I ordered my men to separate her from the group of prisoners, placing her to the side, still chained but close enough for us to talk without interruption. She tried to resist, but my legionaries, trained and hardened, gave her no choice.

"So, Elder, now you're my trophy. Maybe you'd like to cooperate, because I have a feeling you know more than you're letting on. And believe me, it would be a shame for that knowledge to die with you. The Brotherhood has secrets, right? Things that might interest the Legion... and me."

She kept her gaze fixed on me, defiant, though her body could no longer maintain the same proud posture. "You can interrogate me all you want, Centurion. I'll tell you nothing. The Brotherhood of Steel doesn't betray its principles. We're not like you, barbarians clinging to power through violence and slavery."

I stepped slowly toward her, close enough that only she could hear my words, the sound of my power armor resonating with every step. I leaned in and whispered into Elder Andrea's ear.

"Cooperate, and I'll make sure all your brothers and sisters don't end up scattered as slaves. I'll keep them together, in one place, and treat them well... much better than seeing them die one by one, their backs broken by hard labor or hung on the Legion's crosses."

I could feel her tense at my words, trying to hide the fear that was starting to take hold. The Brotherhood clung to their principles, but the thought of seeing her people enslaved or dead could break even the hardest resolve.

"You just need to cooperate," I continued, softening my tone slightly. "I know you're not stupid. You know your options are limited. But you also know I can keep my word. You've seen that I control the majority. So... talk. Tell me what I need to know, and you'll have the chance to secure your people's future. Otherwise... well, I don't think you'll like what comes next."

She stayed silent for a few seconds, her eyes looking down as if debating with herself.

"If I do this... will you guarantee they won't be separated?" she muttered, a mix of anger and resignation in her voice.

"I'll take responsibility for your men and women. You have my word, though I doubt that means much to you."

"What do you want to know?" said the Elder after a moment of thought.

"What were you doing in Dog City... or Denver, whatever you call it?" I asked.

"We tried to help some remnants of the local Brotherhood, but they were gone—either disappeared or wiped out. After that, we attempted to expand the Brotherhood's influence in these lands, free from the watchful eye of the New California Republic."

"New California Republic?" I said, somewhat surprised.