Chapter 7: An explosive welcome
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"Careful, careful, get down, get down!" I shouted to my men.
A missile was launched at the Legion's marching columns. My men and I managed to jump to the other side of the road, but we saw dozens of legionaries who weren't as lucky.
Limbs flew everywhere—legionaries with shattered bodies, some screaming when they realized they had lost a leg or even both.
Before we could get up, another missile was fired at the legionaries who had only just begun to scatter.
Once again, several legionaries died in the attack.
I noticed a figure peeking from the hills with a rocket launcher, but I managed to hit him in the chest with my battle rifle.
"What happened to the patrols that were supposed to secure our passage?" I yelled, hoping to be heard by a superior.
With no response, I assumed the centurion had died in the ambush.
"Legionaries, to the hills!" I shouted, pointing toward the source of the attack.
Everyone who heard my orders began charging up the hill, which wasn't very steep. Soon after, more figures appeared with rocket launchers, but this time they were gunned down by the number of legionaries with rifles who fired as soon as they showed up.
Reaching the top, we began firing at the group retreating after seeing dozens of legionaries charging toward them.
After turning them into bullet-riddled corpses, we inspected their weapons. They weren't the usual repaired arms or crude pipework weapons—these were well-crafted arms, and what stood out most was the fact they had rocket launchers.
Just thinking about this and recalling the Legion's tactics, I could already foresee that the Legion would suffer heavy casualties fighting these tribals.
This time we didn't continue north. The Legate decided to march east to face the Federation of Summers. We didn't know much about what kind of weaponry they had, but the leader's title—The Booming Brigadier General—suggested they had a strong fondness for explosives.
And we soon felt the consequences. For some time, they had prepared for the Legion's attack, and the area was littered with mines. Losing complete contact with patrols meant to cover our flanks became a regular occurrence as we tried to move forward.
Using carriages was out of the question. We had already lost nearly twenty of them to mines, forcing us into a slow, tedious advance with heavy losses.
This Federation of Summers had access to all kinds of explosives—from grenades and dynamite to grenade launchers, rocket launchers, and to top it all off, high-quality machine guns. This meant either someone was supplying them with good arms, or they had the means to make them themselves. Either way, it made me burn with anticipation to defeat them and seize whatever we could.
Many of the merchants in Castra Sol Rubrum were eagerly awaiting the usual spoils the Legion would bring back, but I had the privilege of choosing first. If I could get my hands on the tools needed to manufacture weapons, I would become so essential to the Legion that no matter how meritocratic they claim to be, they would owe me one favor after another.
Fortunately, since our last battle with the previous tribe, my contubernium had been classified as prime. We weren't the first to enter combat anymore; we were held in reserve for the second wave. We saw less action, but when we were sent on missions, it wasn't simply to scout.
Our usual tasks were to eliminate groups of enemies that had caused problems for our scouts or to attack fortified points to secure the Legion's flanks. This wasn't as simple as fighting local tribal militias defending their villages with whatever little weaponry they had.
But we were finally putting into practice the modern group tactics I had been teaching my contubernium, especially after we acquired a machine gun from the dead.
This time it took us two weeks to cover a relatively short distance, but moving through mines and constant explosive ambushes turned our once rapid advance into a slow crawl.
Upon reaching the capital of the tribals, Fort Summers, we found the name deceiving—these fortifications were centuries old, built long before the Great War.
We counted ourselves a bit lucky because if it had been a pre-war military base, capturing it would have been impossible with the current difference in weaponry.
It took the recruit legionaries a week to clear the area of mines while we surrounded the town. Even with the protection of several of the Legion's expert snipers to prevent the locals from attacking the legionaries as they cleared the area, the losses were massive compared to previous casualties. Around a thousand legionaries were killed, and half were wounded to varying degrees.
But now, the path to the city was clear, and the locals didn't have as many defenses beyond the ancient fortifications.
True to the Legion's nature, several waves of recruit legionaries were sent in to overwhelm the defenders and force them to spend their ammunition, hoping it was limited. Up to this point, they had demonstrated no hesitation in firing, and their men always carried plenty of magazines or spare bullets.
"Centurion, requesting permission to seize the opportunity with my men. We can take out the gunners—they're very exposed, and we can use our rifles," I requested authorization from Centurion Nicodemus.
"Go," the centurion responded, while watching the constant explosions and the chains of fire coming from the machine gun nests.
I took my contubernium and advanced several meters until we found a good firing position and started shooting at the machine gunners.
It only took me five minutes to silence the machine gun nests, taking out around two dozen men who had taken over the machine guns. It seemed no one else wanted to take them up, knowing it would almost certainly mean a bullet to the head.
As we continued moving toward the ancient fortress, another wave of recruit legionaries was sent in, as only a handful of legionaries were still moving through the cratered field littered with dismembered body parts.
This time, without the machine gun fire and with my contubernium well-positioned to shoot anyone who stood up in the fortifications, nearly all the legionaries managed to enter the city, though many explosions began to echo around us.
That meant there were mines and booby traps throughout the city.
This time, the order to charge was given, sending what remained of the army into the city. Recruits, prime, and veterans all entered the city, making excellent use of the recruits as cannon fodder while my group and I moved safely through the city, eliminating any threats from the windows.
After several minutes of intense house-to-house fighting by the recruit legionaries, the assault on the fortifications began. It didn't take long for an improvised ramp to be built, and the legionaries quickly began overwhelming the defenders.
There was no rush for my men—they had already earned their glory, and if I didn't lose any of them, it would be a great personal victory.
By the time it was our turn to enter the fortifications, the fighting was over, and the legionaries had already begun looting the fortress, mostly grabbing high-quality weapons. Everyone knew how to appreciate the fine craftsmanship of these tribals' weapons.
Entering the fort's building, we found it was where the Federation's leader had resided. But in the underground section of the fort, it seemed the real valuables were stored, as several legionaries were trying to break down a door protecting the underground area.
Since there was no terminal to hack, my skills were useless. I might have tried picking the lock, but I doubted it would work with a secured door, so I just waited for the legionaries using a fallen steel beam as a battering ram to keep at it.
When the door finally gave way, we found a small group hiding inside, but we also found the real treasure.
There was machinery that almost certainly belonged to a munitions factory. This machine did the same work as the hundreds of slaves in the Legion's main settlement, who were making bullets for the conquest of the East.
Their weapons production was rudimentary, but they had pre-war blueprints for all the weapon parts, so all we needed was to hand them over to someone who knew how to manufacture them, or find the machines they used to make the parts, and we could start a decent assembly line.
Additionally, there were many elements used in the creation of gunpowder, which could improve what we already had. It could boost the production of glycerin and the acid needed for gunpowder, and we could produce more ammunition.
While I was focused on the machinery, the legionaries had their eyes on the slaves and the weapons here.
"Gaius, stop drooling, the Legate is coming," Drusus said, elbowing my arm.
The Legate arrived, surrounded by centurions and veteran legionaries, and began inspecting the facilities attentively until his gaze fell on me.
"True to Caesar, Decanus. I see you've arrived in one piece. I suppose you know what these machines are for? Avoid the technical terms," said Legate Lanius in his characteristic voice.
"True to Caesar, Legate. That one produces ammunition, that area assembles weapons, and that zone over there is used for making smokeless gunpowder. We've found the reason they had so many explosives and ammunition to spare," I replied to the Legate.
"Fine acquisitions for the conquest of the tribals. The Legion will put them to good use, so don't get your hopes up," said Legate Lanius.
"These machines and installations require specific care and maintenance, Legate Lanius,"i responded the Legion officer.
"I suppose you're the only one who knows how to perform that maintenance, aren't you, Decanus?" said Lanius, maintaining his tone of voice.
"I'm not saying I'm the only one—those captives over there probably know how to use them. But when the machine breaks down, which it will because that's just how finicky machines are, that's where I come in," I replied to Lanius.
"Therefore, it would go against Lord Caesar's teachings if something that can produce more but in an unreliable manner is discarded in favor of more reliable methods. But with the knowledge that is valuable to your tribe, let's talk about payment to the Legion," said Lanius after thinking for a few seconds.
"We can discuss payment once we see the production capacity, Legate Lanius?," I said to the Legion officer.
"So be it, Decanus. Start disassembling it," said the Legate, leaving the room, followed by all his men.
'Blessed be Caesar's disdain for unreliable machinery.'
With the help of the legionaries, we disassembled everything in a couple of days and sent it back to Castra Sol Rubrum, as the Legion would continue south to finish off the last pockets of resistance on the eastern flank.
And it was a group that I truly hated with all my heart.
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