Capítulo 54: Life under caesar's sight
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POV of Sheila
My men kept firing, but it was as if our bullets were insignificant. Each impact on their armor only produced sparks, and they kept advancing, unstoppable. The sound of bullets ricocheting off was maddening, every shot seeming useless against their resistance.
"Fall back and regroup!" I ordered, aware that continuing to fire without a new plan would only waste ammunition. These weren't ordinary legionaries; they were equipped to withstand anything we threw at them.
We tried to retreat, organizing ourselves as best we could amidst the chaos. Retreat was our only option; those men in steel armor seemed invulnerable to our weapons, and without a better strategy, staying meant certain death. We moved quickly, but the metallic sound of vehicles approaching from the rear filled me with dread.
When I saw them, my heart sank. Armored vehicles, dark and threatening, stopped just meters from our position. More men in armor descended from them, moving with precision and aiming directly at us with their weapons. We had prepared to fight regular legionaries, raiders, maybe even Paullus, but this was different. These warriors seemed relentless, prepared for anything we might try.
"Damn it…!" I muttered as we tried to regroup, but there was no escape. Before we could fully reorganize, more of those armored legionaries appeared from all directions, advancing slowly but steadily. We were surrounded. The looks on my men's faces said it all: we were trapped.
The armored men didn't fire immediately, but they aimed at us with chilling precision, ready to end us if we made the slightest wrong move. Sweat ran down my forehead as I tried to think of something, anything, that might give us a way out. But at that moment, the reality was clear: we had underestimated our enemy, and now we were completely at their mercy.
The silence was broken by a firm, deep voice—the same voice of the man who had fought Paullus. His armor, gleaming and oppressive, stood out among the others. He observed us from behind his helmet, his figure imposing among the other armored legionaries. His voice rang out with cold authority.
"Drop your weapons and surrender. There's no need for a massacre."
My hands tightened around my rifle instinctively. Every part of me screamed resistance—what awaited us if we surrendered? Death? Slavery? Knowing the Legion, nothing good would come from giving up without a fight.
"Who are you?" I asked firmly, still holding my rifle. I needed time, any detail that might buy us a small advantage. "And why the hell is a legionary attacking and protecting Paullus?"
The man's voice echoed with chilling calm, but the threat behind his words was as clear as day.
"Lord Caesar has ordered me personally to crucify the profligate Paullus, and that requires him to be alive… which is why I protected him," he said with calculated coldness. "I won't repeat myself: drop your weapons, or everyone dies here."
My body tensed at his words. So, it was true—Paullus, the raider who had ravaged our lands, was condemned, but not by our hands, by his own leader's.
I slowly lowered my rifle, though I kept my gaze fixed on the man. "We're not your enemies… but we're not your prisoners either," I said, knowing our options were limited. "What happens to us if we surrender?"
"I need to speak to the leader of Pecos Colony, and then I'll decide what to do with you," the armored man responded, his voice as cold as ever.
I pressed my lips together, fighting the impulse to stay silent. I didn't know if revealing myself would mean salvation or doom, but I couldn't afford to keep quiet any longer.
"You're looking at her," I finally said, letting the words hang in the air.
The man slowly turned toward me, his eyes hidden behind the visor of his helmet, but I could feel him analyzing me. The weight of the situation rested heavily on my shoulders. I knew that this revelation would change everything, but there was no turning back.
With slow steps, he began to approach, the heavy armor clinking with each movement. Instinctively, I raised my rifle, but it was useless. When he was close enough, he wrenched it from my hands with insulting ease. Before I could react, he bent the barrel in front of me as if it were a fragile twig, his strength evident in every motion. The twisted metal screeched in the air, and I stood there, stunned by the display of power.
"About what?" I replied coldly, pulling out my revolver and aiming it at his head. The weight of the weapon in my hand gave me a false sense of control, but I knew I was treading dangerous ground.
The armored man didn't flinch. He looked at me through his visor without a trace of concern, and with a firm, authoritative voice, he continued as if my gun posed no real threat.
"About your surrender," he began, his tone cold but calculated. "I offer you the chance to become tributaries of the Legion. The right to govern yourselves by your own laws and customs, respecting the laws Lord Caesar dictates. No one will be enslaved, and you will be protected by Lord Caesar's legionaries from all bandits and radioactive beasts that remain in these lands."
"And five thousand heads of cattle will be delivered as a sign of submission to the Legion to feed its campaigns in Mexico."
Five thousand heads of cattle… That number hit me hard at first, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized we lose more cattle every year to wild animals and raiders. The constant danger in these lands meant we were always fighting to protect our herds. Compared to that, what the Legion was asking for seemed like a manageable sacrifice, if they truly provided the protection they promised.
"We lose more cattle every year to beasts and raiders," I murmured to myself as the pieces of the offer began to fall into place.
If this man's words were true, if the Legion really would protect our lands and allow our colony to govern itself, we could move forward. But trusting the Legion… that was another matter entirely.
I looked at the man in the armor. "If we accept… what guarantee do we have that you'll keep your word? That you won't come back for more when you want?"
The man stared at me without hesitation. "Lord Caesar's word is law. If you respect the agreement, the Legion will uphold its end. If not… well, you know what can happen."
His response was cold and uncompromising, but there were no signs of deceit. The Legion was brutal, but they were known to keep their promises, for better or worse. And now, my decision was all that stood between Pecos Colony and an uncertain future.
"I accept," I said reluctantly, feeling the weight of the decision, "but this has to go to the council." I knew my word wouldn't be enough to seal such an important agreement, and I needed formal approval from our people, even under the shadow of the Legion.
The man in the armor nodded, but his response made it clear this wouldn't be a completely free process. "I'll ensure that a centuria of my best men will be 'watching' the vote," he said, his tone cold, leaving no doubt that the outcome was already practically decided.
I clenched my teeth, swallowing my frustration. This wasn't a negotiation; it was an imposition disguised as diplomacy.
"By the way," he continued, as if the fate of our colony was just another item on his list, "I need to buy about twenty thousand heads of cattle. Name your price in Legion currency."
My mind went blank for a moment. Twenty thousand heads... that was a considerable amount, and though we were used to selling cattle, we'd never dealt with a transaction of this magnitude. The fact that he asked for the price in Legion currency meant this was an official business deal.
"I can sell you from my personal herd," I responded, surprised by my own offer. I hadn't expected things to take this turn, but at that moment, it seemed that accepting part of this deal on my terms was a small victory, even if it was only a temporary reprieve. "Or this sale will need to involve the others," I added, still trying to gauge the situation.
"Fine," he replied, not dwelling on the matter. Then he turned to one of his men, a robust legionary in his armor waiting for instructions. "Speak with my men and make sure they monitor the vote. Drusus, handle it."
"At your command, legate Gaius," the legionary Drusus responded, giving a sharp salute before moving to carry out his orders.
There it was—the man we had heard mentioned in so many Legion stories. Gaius, second-in-command in Lanius' conquests, less cruel than his predecessor but lethally efficient. And now, here he was, making decisions that could shape the future of Pecos Colony.
We returned to our settlement, with the legionaries always watching us closely. With each step we took, I could feel the worried and bewildered gazes of my people. Seeing those men of the Legion, clad in their imposing armor, walking through our town of Pecos was like witnessing the beginning of something we had no idea how it would end. Conversations fell silent, children hid, and the elders murmured among themselves as they watched the legionaries march through. I walked at the front, feeling the weight of their eyes on me, wondering what decisions I had made on their behalf.
The first reports started coming in from the herders and hunters patrolling the outskirts. Gaius' legionaries, it seemed, hadn't limited themselves to just watching us; they had begun eliminating all the raiders hiding in our lands, erasing the threat that had tormented us for years. The bandits who once stole our cattle and endangered our families were found dead, their bodies left at the desert's edge, victims of the Legion's lethal precision.
Then came the news about the nests of radioactive beasts. Creatures that had infested the wildest and most dangerous areas, where only the bravest or most desperate dared to venture, were being eradicated. Zones that were once impassable were now cleared, open for grazing and the expansion of our herds.
What was most surprising was how these reports, which at first seemed strange and filled with distrust, began to be received with acceptance—even relief—by the people of Pecos Colony. The elimination of raiders and beasts not only brought security but also meant more land available for grazing. With each dead raider, with each destroyed nest, more space opened up for our herds, more peace for our families.
What had initially been fear toward the Legion's presence began to transform into cautious acceptance. People saw the result: more pastures, fewer threats, more tranquility. But though the news was good, I couldn't ignore what it really meant. The Legion was weaving its web, offering protection and order in exchange for our tribute, and the people, little by little, were starting to accept it.
As the good news kept coming, one question weighed on my mind: how much were we willing to give up in exchange for this "protection"?
Out of nowhere, as if they had emerged from the desert sands themselves, nearly five hundred more legionaries arrived. Their ranks quickly spread out, stationed across our lands, every movement meticulously planned. It wasn't a simple arrival but an organized occupation. They began building fortifications along our borders, small forts that quickly changed the familiar landscape of Pecos Colony. We watched as they raised walls and watchtowers, securing every strategic point.
What was most unsettling was that, despite our distrust, these legionaries didn't just limit themselves to guarding their positions. They also joined in the "pacification" of our lands, eliminating the beasts and the few remaining raiders that dared to wander into our territory. The Legion's presence had spread like a shadow across the entire region, enveloping everything—from the grazing areas to the trade routes.
Every day, more reports arrived about the disappearance of bandits and the eradication of dangerous creatures. What had started as a watchful presence had turned into a force that controlled our lands more than we had imagined. And though the people saw these changes as improvements, I couldn't help but feel that with every fort they built, with every additional soldier that arrived, they were tightening their grip around Pecos Colony. Slowly but surely, we were no longer fully masters of our own land.
The peace brought by the legionaries came at a price. While the town saw security, I saw the chains being forged around Pecos Colony, and with each day, they grew heavier.
The election happened much sooner than anyone expected. There were murmurs of discontent among the herders and traders, who had to deviate from their grazing routes to come and vote. But the strong presence of legionaries in our lands, combined with the sense of safety that now reigned, had its effect. Most voted in favor of becoming tributaries of the Legion. The idea of peace and protection from the constant dangers of beasts and raiders was enough for many to accept the proposal, even if not with full enthusiasm.
As for me, I expected the worst. I believed that now the impossible demands would come, that they would start asking for more than we could give, that they would take our lands, our cattle, or, worse, turn our people into slaves under Caesar's unyielding hand. But that didn't happen.
To my surprise, after the vote, the Legion truly left us in peace. There were no further demands, no punishments, no slavery. The only change was that alcohol and drugs were banned. And now we had a decanus, a kind of tax collector, who, along with a few men, was in charge of collecting the tribute of meat, milk, and cattle that fed the legate Gaius' men in his campaign in Mexico.
In return, almost all the raiders who had once tormented us were dead, and the radioactive beasts were being exterminated, nest by nest. The grazing areas expanded, trade became safer, and life, somehow, seemed to have improved. But deep down, I knew none of this came without a cost.
The colony had changed, but for now, the peace we had was enough for many. The question that lingered in my mind was how long it would last before the Legion—or Caesar—asked for something more. And when they did, would we be ready to pay the price?
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