Fallout:Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion

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"Tell the centurion what you told me... and I won't have to knock all your teeth out," the frumentarii growled at the tied-up tribal.

"Leave him. If you scare him too much, he'll just give us false information out of fear," I said, stepping closer to the restrained man.

"There are other ways to get information, Centurion, but this one's already spoken, so no point in torturing him further," the frumentarii replied.

The tribal was visibly nervous, his voice trembling as he struggled to find the right words. "Men of steel... like you... but with different armor," he murmured, eyes glued to the ground as if lifting them would invite a blow.

I leaned in, making it clear that I had no intention of hurting him, at least not yet. "What kind of armor? Where did these men come from?"

He continued, voice barely a whisper as he described the invaders. "Dark and green... heavy... emblems of swords and gears," he said, shaking with fear. "They weren't from here... they arrived suddenly, attacked our warriors, and when they finally took control, they made us clear the rubble. They were looking for something... searching, and then they scavenged what was left of our city."

The frumentarii gave me a sideways glance, recognizing the value of the information. This wasn't an ordinary group.

"The Brotherhood of Steel? Here? They should be further east," the frumentarii muttered to himself. "They've had a presence in this region for years. They tried supporting another Brotherhood cell in Dog City but were pushed out by the local profligates. It's not strange that they'd come back... they're always after technology."

"Where did they go after? Did you follow them?" I asked the tribal, my tone firm but patient.

"They stayed in the city. They rule there now... talked about attacking the tribe north of the river," the tribal said.

"Lanius mentioned this group to me and said they use power armor," I commented, keeping my eyes on the frumentarii. "But what more do you know about them, aside from what you've already said?"

The frumentarii crossed his arms, staring at the ground for a moment before replying. "They're paranoid, extremely so, and they have an almost obsessive need for technology—much like you, Centurion. But unlike you, they don't use it to create or enhance their strength. They hoard it, capture it, and lock it away in their castra, ruling with an iron fist. To them, any advanced tech is sacred, and they'll do whatever it takes to protect it."

"How dangerous are they in battle?" I asked.

"Their soldiers are incredibly strong and well-trained. Nearly impossible to defeat one-on-one in the field unless you have heavy weapons. The power armor they wear gives them an overwhelming advantage, and they're equipped with advanced energy weapons. It's a challenge to face them without preparation. Worse still, they're nearly impossible to infiltrate. Many frumentarii have tried to join their ranks but were discovered and eliminated before they could gather any useful information."

I frowned. The Brotherhood of Steel was a serious threat. "So, there's no way to attack them from within?"

The frumentarii shook his head. "Not with our traditional infiltration methods. The Brotherhood has strict codes for entry, assuming they don't reject you outright, and anyone who doesn't meet their standards is eliminated quickly. They're a disciplined force, even more so than the legionaries in some ways. Any attack against them would have to be direct and decisive."

"But it just so happens they're here, far from their stronghold, and they've recently taken over a tribe that was going to be an easy catch for the Legion," I said with a cold smile. "A ripe fruit, ready to be plucked."

The frumentarii nodded, understanding exactly what I meant.

"Try to locate the Brotherhood forces," I ordered, "and I'll bring my team of men with power armor. We'll face them head-on and put those anti-material rifles we acquired to good use. If their power armor is as strong as you say, let's see how it holds up against high-penetration rounds."

The frumentarii flashed a barely perceptible smile. "We'll hunt them down, Centurion."

Without wasting any time, I returned to my camp, focused on gathering my men and preparing to hunt the Brotherhood of Steel. The information I had gathered made it clear: we wouldn't be facing disorganized tribals armed with stolen weapons, but a professional, highly trained force. These were not mere raiders; they could very well be remnants of the old American military, adapted to the post-apocalyptic world. An enemy that would, at last, test the true might of my veterans.

As I marched back to camp, my thoughts were on the preparation for the coming battle. My cohort, especially those equipped with power armor, had what it took to face them. The Brotherhood might be used to crushing lesser forces, but now they would meet legionaries who lived and died for war, armed with anti-material rifles and brutal tactics. I knew that with the right coordination, we stood a real chance of bringing them down, dismantling their stronghold before they had time to fortify.

Upon arriving, I quickly gathered my men, knowing there was no time to waste. I ordered them to load the anti-material rifles and gear up with the best technology we had. This wasn't going to be just another battle—it was going to be a statement. The Legion would prove its dominance over any force, even those who clung to the shadows of the past.

We traveled in our motorized vehicles, knowing that the Brotherhood's advanced weaponry could easily take down my prized vertibird. Discretion was key, and though slower, the vehicles allowed us to move without drawing too much attention. The objective was clear, and I couldn't afford to lose the element of surprise.

As we moved deeper into the territory, we encountered local frumentarii who quickly briefed us on the situation. They guided us to the patrol groups operating in the area. These undercover agents had been observing the Brotherhood's movements for days, mapping their routes and uncovering their patterns. Every bit of intel was crucial, and as I received their reports, I began to see an opportunity for an ambush.

"They move in small groups, using communication systems, and every time the profligates try to attack them, nearby patrols quickly close in to reinforce them," one of the frumentarii informed me while showing a rudimentary map of the area. "The strike must be quick and lethal, or we'll be dealing with all the patrols at once."

Using the frumentarii's intel, we advanced cautiously. Moving in small teams, twenty legionaries in total, we took position in the ruins of a building that offered a clear view of the road they patrolled. We knew we had only one chance to strike, so we carefully set up our ambush. The four legionaries armed with anti-material rifles took strategic positions, camouflaged among the rubble and dirty cloth we had scattered to hide ourselves. Only the tips of the rifles peeked out, aimed directly at the road.

The plan was simple: when the patrol passed in front of us, all four anti-material rifles would fire simultaneously, taking out the targets before they had a chance to react. The tension was palpable as we waited, the metallic sound of power armor moving in the distance confirming they were close.

When we finally saw them, reality exceeded our expectations. Leading the patrol, an imposing West-Tek T-50 power armor moved forward with steady steps, the heavy plating gleaming with every motion. Behind, two men walked in servo-armor without full plating, their exposed servos glinting in the sun. A small group of men and women followed, all wearing padded combat suits, clearly prepared for battle.

What stood out the most, however, was their weaponry: energy rifles, all identical, glinting under the light. These were no mere tribals. We were facing a disciplined and well-equipped enemy.

"Hold until they pass," I murmured over the communicator, watching as the patrol neared, completely unaware of the trap we had laid. Everything was in place.

The patrol moved without haste, confident in their superior firepower and equipment. Every step echoed through the desert's silence, the metallic clank of the power armor mingling with the wind. As they walked directly in front of our position, I raised my hand, signaling my men to prepare. My breathing slowed, steady, waiting for the perfect moment.

"Now," I whispered, and four shots rang out in unison. The thunder of the anti-material rifles shook the rubble around us, and I watched with satisfaction as the projectiles struck their targets.

The first to fall was the man in the T-50 armor. The shot pierced his visor, causing the heavily armored body to collapse to the ground, the force of the impact making him stagger like a ragdoll. The two men in servo-armor tried to react, but my legionaries struck with precision, destroying their servos and taking them down before they could raise their energy rifles.

The soldiers in padded suits scrambled to disperse, but they were met with a hail of rifle fire. Two dropped instantly, while the others dove behind the rubble, seeking cover.

"Advance!" I ordered, moving with my men. The legionaries leapt from their concealed positions, firing as they advanced. The Brotherhood patrol had been caught completely off-guard, and despite their superior weapons, they were powerless against our perfectly executed ambush.

I approached the fallen leader, watching as a pool of blood slowly spread beneath his lifeless body. It was a scene I had witnessed countless times, but this one felt different. We had just taken down members of the Brotherhood of Steel, a group known for being a formidable opponent.

"Throw down your weapons and raise your damned hands, or this place will be your grave!" I shouted, amplifying my voice through the speakers of my power armor. The echo bounced off the surrounding ruins, filling the air with a palpable threat. They had no chance of winning.

The few remaining Brotherhood soldiers looked around, their faces tense and filled with desperation. They knew they were trapped, and though their energy rifles remained in hand, fear had already taken hold. One of them, a woman in a padded suit who appeared to be higher-ranked, hesitated for a moment before tossing her rifle to the ground in a gesture of defeat.

One by one, the rest followed her example, dropping their weapons and raising their hands in surrender.

"Anyone got mines?" I asked impatiently.

Only the frumentarii accompanying us raised his hand without a word. I moved closer to him and whispered, "Prepare them. We're going to lure the rest of their group and use these prisoners as bait." Then, I turned to the captives.

"You," I pointed at the woman who seemed to take charge after their leader's fall. "You're going to call for reinforcements over the radio. Tell them you found valuable technology. If you refuse, I'll kill all of you right here," I warned, locking my eyes onto hers.

Fear etched into her face, she nodded. I handed her the radio, and without hesitation, she made the distress call just as I expected. She didn't even consider my warning; she knew she had no choice. The outcome was exactly what I wanted.

With the radio out of the way, I approached her and, without warning, struck her hard in the back. A sharp crack echoed through the air, followed by a groan of pain. Though she breathed heavily, I knew she was crippled for life.

"The mines... when they come to help them, boom," I whispered, gesturing toward the prisoners before moving to the rest of the fallen patrol. One by one, I methodically broke their backs to ensure they wouldn't move again.

We left everything in place, carefully stashing the power-armored man in our hideout to avoid damaging the suit further, and returned to our positions. Once again, we concealed ourselves, waiting patiently for the inevitable reinforcements to arrive.

The silence enveloped the area once more as we watched the trap tighten. I knew the Brotherhood wouldn't be long. All we had to do was wait.

The wait was tense. The sun began to lower, casting long shadows across the rubble around us. I knew we wouldn't have to wait much longer. The Brotherhood of Steel was not known for abandoning their own, so reinforcements were coming. And when they did, they would walk right into our snare.

Finally, the sound of mechanical servos echoed in the distance—the metallic clanking of power armor drawing closer. My legionaries stayed still, holding their breath, as the four anti-material rifles remained steady, trained on their positions, ready to fire.

I saw them appear on the road, just as I expected. Three men in power armor, flanked by Brotherhood soldiers wielding energy rifles. They moved with precision, their weapons at the ready. There was no doubt they were prepared for an ambush... but not ours.

"Wait," I murmured, keeping my men in check until they were in the perfect position.

The Brotherhood reinforcements reached the site of the ambush, halting as they spotted the bodies of their fallen comrades on the ground. A large group immediately rushed to help the injured who were still moving, while the better-armed soldiers stood guard, scanning the perimeter with their energy rifles, ready to repel any attack.

They expected a trap, but not one of this magnitude.

As soon as they began moving the wounded, the mines went off. A deafening roar shook the air as multiple explosions ripped through the area. The Brotherhood soldiers were torn apart, their screams of pain drowned out by the chaos, while metal and flesh were flung into the sky. The wounded they had tried to save were obliterated alongside their rescuers.

"Perfect," I murmured to myself, watching the carnage from our hiding spot. We had calculated every step, and now the few survivors stood dazed and vulnerable.

"Attack!" I shouted, and my men sprang from their positions. The assault was swift and merciless. The remaining Brotherhood forces tried to return fire, but confusion and shock had left them weak. It didn't take long to break their defense.

The anti-material rifles rang out repeatedly, the echo reverberating off the ruins as the large-caliber rounds pierced through the formidable power armor. The power-armored soldiers fell one after another, their bodies jerking violently from the impact before finally lying still.

Each shot found its mark, and the Brotherhood forces trying to mount a defense were annihilated without mercy. The power-armored soldiers, who had posed the greatest threat, were the first to fall.

When the last power-armored soldier went down, the battlefield fell silent, save for the metallic clink of spent casings hitting the ground.

"There's nothing left," I muttered, satisfied with the result. My legionaries moved quickly, securing the field and gathering energy weapons and any valuable equipment they could find.

"Secure the power armor, and let's get out of here before more reinforcements arrive. This was a great victory," I said, signaling toward where we had left our vehicles.