Fallout:Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion

Ahhhh, how hard it is to write with seven fingers!

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The air was thick with smoke and the acrid stench of burning flesh as I stopped in front of Primm's gates. Hundreds of NCR soldiers were slowly marching out, their hands raised in surrender, their faces pale and smeared with dirt and blood. Their uniforms were in tatters, many barely holding onto the rifles now lying on the ground. The sight was pitiful, but a cold smile curled my lips.

"What happened here?" I asked, my voice icy and sharp as I surveyed the broken mass of NCR troops.

"The profligates killed their commanding officer and surrendered," the centurion beside me explained with a tone laced with disdain. "The enemy commander believed he could hold out in Primm for days, using the Republic's conscripts as cannon fodder to delay us."

"But one of our frumentarii, who infiltrated as a sergeant, knew how to motivate the conscripts in the right direction," added another voice. It was the frumentarii responsible for the infiltration. "He promised them they'd be treated well as prisoners of war, and that was enough to break their morale."

"Then we must encourage such desertions," I said, reflecting aloud as my gaze lingered on the defeated soldiers who still trembled before us. "If prisoners are treated better than they expect, we can exploit that. I will allocate funds to construct a prisoner camp in Arizona where they can be well taken care of. Do we still have contacts with NCR reporters? We could allow them to film the camp and use it to fuel further desertions."

"I'll see what I can do, Legate. I'll make sure to find a reporter bold enough to document the prisoner camps," the frumentarii said with a nearly mocking tone. "It could not only encourage desertions but also increase resistance against Kimball in his beloved Senate."

"Good. Ensure we capture as many NCR soldiers alive as possible. The more we have, the greater our opportunities for Lord Caesar's future plans," I replied, crossing my arms as I assessed the path ahead.

"True to Caesar," the two men said in unison, their voices firm and reverent.

"Perfect. Then this saves us time," I continued, gesturing broadly to the roads ahead. "In fact, we can keep moving. I have only two days before I must report my plans to Lord Caesar, so we'll make the most of this opportunity. The NCR must not realize they've lost an entire battalion in combat. Move forward. I want our forces in position before they can react."

The men nodded without hesitation.

We continued advancing along the roads in our vehicles, navigating the debris and wrecked trucks that bore testament to past battles and the NCR's inability to maintain order in the Mojave. Along the way, we encountered a group of profligates, the so-called Powder Gangers—former NCR prisoners who had apparently escaped. Whether their escape had been facilitated by one of our indirect operations or simply by the Republic's inherent incompetence at managing its own problems, I didn't know. For the time being, they had served our interests by forcing the NCR to divert resources to contain them. However, now they were an obstacle, a problem to be dealt with immediately. If I were to ensure the siege of New Vegas, I needed supply lines free of distractions and threats.

The Powder Gangers' stronghold was the correctional facility, an improvised fortified ruin that served as both their shelter and a storage site for their meager resources. I ordered an immediate assault. The operation was swift and lethal; those men were unprepared to resist an attack from the Legion. Their weapons were crude, their tactics nonexistent, and their fighting spirit crumbled at the first blow. Within minutes, the site was completely secured.

Prisoners were swiftly sorted. Those with physical strength or minimal skills were marked for slavery; their lives would serve a purpose in the mines, forges, or as labor in the Legion's settlements. For the rest—the weak, the insubordinate, and those who offered no utility—the fate was the same: crucifixion.

One by one, they were nailed to crosses in front of the ruins of their stronghold, exposed to the merciless Mojave sun. Their screams filled the air, a symphony that echoed across the barren desert. For anyone passing along that road, the message would be clear: chaos and disobedience had no place under Caesar's banner.

With every passing hour, our advance remained unstoppable. It seemed the NCR was convinced we were still bogged down in Primm, battling their troops, allowing us to take the strategic initiative. Goodsprings, a small but critical stop, was swiftly secured by one of my centurions. Though insignificant at first glance, the town had a supply of clean water, greatly facilitating our logistics in this relentless desert. It was a minor, yet strategic victory.

As I reviewed the next steps for our continued advance, my power armor's radio buzzed with the cold, methodical voice of Frumentarii Lupus.

"Legate Gaius, this is Frumentarii Lupus. We've found something that may interest you."

I straightened, adjusting the radio channel. "What have you found, Frumentarii? Report immediately," I ordered firmly.

"We've detected two groups. One consists of individuals in power armor, and the other is clad in simple clothing. Both emerged from an underground facility after a sandstorm east of your position. Three of them are heading toward your location now, while the rest remain patrolling the area."

"What do you know about the group? Have they shown any hostile intent?" I asked, my mind already calculating the possibilities.

"So far, they've shown no hostility. Those heading your way appear unarmed—at least visibly—but the ones patrolling may be better equipped. The group that stayed behind is in a defensive formation, as if protecting the entrance to something."

"Understood, Lupus. Keep them under observation. Do not act without direct orders," I replied, closing the transmission.

I turned to the nearest centurion. "Prepare to receive those three. If they bring anything of value or useful information, we'll hear them out. If they pose a threat, eliminate them without hesitation."

The centurion nodded, his expression hardened. I ordered several vehicles to change course toward the indicated position, while the rest continued the main advance. Goodsprings was secured, and the convoy continued rolling, kicking up clouds of dust on the horizon.

We positioned ourselves among the rocks in the area, carefully concealing our vehicles, leaving behind a silent trap ready to spring. Patience was our ally as we waited for the group of three people, as Frumentarii Lupus had mentioned, to approach the road leading to Primm. When they finally appeared, we started our vehicles in unison and moved swiftly to surround them.

Realizing they were trapped, they tried to run. However, seeing themselves completely encircled by vehicles from which legionaries clad in power armor descended, they froze in place. Their desperation was palpable—they knew there was no escape.

I stepped out of my vehicle calmly and approached the trio. The three of them were visibly nervous. Leading the group was a woman attempting to maintain composure, though her eyes betrayed her fear. The other two, another woman and a man, were younger—likely scribes or initiates, judging by their awkward postures and the uncertainty in their eyes.

"Ha, I can recognize a Brotherhood of Steel member anywhere," I said with a cold smile, fixing my gaze on the woman in charge. My eyes quickly assessed her equipment and the others.

"W-we're just… resource procurers, nothing more," the woman stammered, her voice trembling as she tried to sound convincing.

"What kind of merchant carries a power fist on their person?" I retorted mockingly, grabbing her arm firmly. I lifted it with ease, revealing the advanced technology she had tried to hide beneath an ill-fitting cloak. The metallic glint and unmistakable design gave it away immediately.

The woman swallowed hard but said nothing, only trying to pull her arm away in a futile effort. The other two stepped back slightly but didn't dare move further, knowing the legionaries surrounding them wouldn't hesitate to open fire.

"This isn't common equipment, much less something any so-called 'resource procurer' could justify. So let's be clear: what is the Brotherhood of Steel doing here, hiding in the Mojave?" My tone was icy, leaving no room for lies.

"Well? Answer me… I know you got your asses handed to you at Helios One. The NCR supposedly wiped you out… yet here you are," I said, holding the woman's power fist aloft so the sunlight reflected off the metal.

The woman tried to keep a hardened expression, but the sweat on her brow and the tension in her jaw betrayed her struggle to maintain composure. The other two, clearly less experienced, could barely conceal their fear. The man looked as if he was about to speak, but a sharp glare from the leader silenced him before he could utter a word.

"Fine. If you won't talk, we'll see what your Elders have to say, because we know where they might be," I said coldly, my voice slicing through the air like a blade. The woman stared at me wide-eyed, fear and anger battling for control of her expression. The other two said nothing, frozen in place and fully aware their fate was no longer in their hands.

"Bind them," I ordered curtly. My legionaries in power armor acted without hesitation, restraining the trio firmly and tying them up with ropes. The leader tried to resist but stood no chance against the superior strength of the armored soldiers. The younger pair's cries were quickly muffled under the unyielding grip of my men.

With nothing more to say, I turned away and climbed back into my vehicle. Once inside, I gazed at the horizon. Dust still rose in the distance, marking the direction of the underground facility from which they had emerged.

"Head toward the area they came from," I ordered, my tone calm, like an executioner delivering a verdict. The vehicles roared to life, their engines echoing across the desert as the convoy moved forward.

Upon reaching a sandy area, the landscape appeared barren, almost harmless at first glance. But soon we noticed movement. Shadows darted beneath the dunes: massive, deadly radscorpions. At first, they resembled immobile mounds of sand scattered across the area, but their erratic movements gave them away. I kept my men on high alert as we advanced cautiously, the frumentarii already positioned and observing from nearby rocks.

Then I noticed something unusual. One of the prisoners—the woman leading the group—began glancing nervously in a specific direction. Though she tried to hide it, her body betrayed her intentions. She knew something and was clearly trying not to reveal it.

"There, search over there," I commanded, pointing toward where she had been looking. My legionaries began sifting through the sand in the indicated area, digging with speed and purpose. It didn't take long before the dunes revealed what they had been concealing: a metal hatch, rusted but still functional. It was the entrance to a bunker.

"This is it," I declared, stepping closer to inspect it. "Fetch the plasma weapons. Our ballistic arms won't suffice here. Now is the time to make use of Vault 0's arsenal."

The men nodded without question. A bunker like this, possibly connected to the Brotherhood of Steel, wouldn't be an easy target. If the Brotherhood was entrenched here, there would be automated defenses, and any resistance would mean our conventional bullets would be severely outmatched by their armor. But with the advanced weaponry from Vault 0, this place wouldn't stand a chance.

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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.

I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.