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89.36% Fallout:Industrial Baron in Caesar's Legion / Chapter 84: The Mojave Chapter

Chương 84: The Mojave Chapter

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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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Chương 85: Hidden Valley

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We waited patiently for the vehicles to return from their mission, maintaining constant vigilance over the perimeter. During that time, reports from our forward troops arrived frequently, allowing me to adjust orders as circumstances demanded. The monotony of waiting was broken when the radio crackled to life with a message from one of my centurions.

"This is Centurion Marcellus," the voice came through with a broken tone, accompanied by the sound of heavy breathing. His strain was evident even before he began to speak. "Legate, we've discovered a quarry infested with deathclaws. Dozens of those beasts have made their nest in the area."

I remained silent for a moment, processing his words. Deathclaws were formidable enemies, and a nest implied an even greater challenge.

"Casualties?" I asked coldly.

"Eight legionaries dead, Legate. Two decanii are injured, though they'll recover. However, one of our centurions is in critical condition. He lost an arm in the fight, and we barely managed to evacuate him before they got to him."

The silence on the channel stretched for a moment before he continued.

"Despite the losses, we've secured the area and are holding the position. The main beasts have been eliminated, though I suspect there are more hiding in the depths of the quarry. The path to New Vegas is clear."

"Can we proceed?" I responded calmly, evaluating the situation.

"Yes, Legate. Advancement is possible. The losses are a blow, but our troops remain highly motivated. The legionaries know these beasts are no match for Caesar's will."

"Good, Marcellus. Hold the position and send a patrol to inspect the deeper parts of the quarry. If there are more deathclaws, eliminate them or ensure they can't get out. We won't leave loose ends. Organize your men and prepare to continue the advance when I give the order."

"True to Caesar, Legate," Marcellus replied, his tone filled with determination despite his evident exhaustion.

I closed the communication and turned my attention back to the nearby legionaries. The deathclaws were an unexpected obstacle but not an insurmountable one.

"Legate Gaius, this is Frumentarius Cassianus. We've secured a facility near Novac. The area was infested with ghouls, which have been completely eliminated, along with a species of blue-skinned super mutant. Minimal casualties: four frumentarii lost in exchange for total control of the facility. It appears to be an old rocket testing site, possibly tied to pre-war technology," Cassianus reported in a cold, calculated tone.

I took a moment to reflect. A rocket testing site... The strategic potential of such a place was enormous, both for our expansion and to consolidate our technological dominance in the Mojave.

"That's intriguing, Cassianus," I replied calmly. "Secure the location and fortify your position. I'll visit personally once we complete the current operations. In the meantime, don't allow anyone, not even a rat, to approach the facility without my authorization. If you find anything else of interest, report it immediately."

"Understood, Legate. True to Caesar," Cassianus replied before ending the transmission.

"Gaius... this is Centurion Malpais. We've broken the profligates; they're abandoning their camps. Boulder City is ours, and I made sure to demolish that damned monument," Malpais said, his tone filled with satisfaction and confidence.

"Additionally, we've destroyed a Rangers' camp and are bombarding Camp Golf with mortars. Soon, we'll be able to target Camp McCarran with artillery. Everything is ready to assault New Vegas."

I listened to his report in silence, letting each word settle. Malpais, despite his past failures, had proven capable of wreaking havoc on the NCR's lines, dismantling their positions one by one. His progress in Boulder City was significant, and the news of the monument being reduced to rubble was a devastating symbolic blow to the Republic's morale.

"Well done, Malpais," I responded firmly, making my approval clear. "Maintain pressure on Golf and McCarran, but don't underestimate the Rangers' response. They may be disorganized, but they always find a way to counterattack. Ensure your supply lines are secured before the final assault. Wait for my forces to be in position before launching the last offensive."

"I'll await your order, Legate," Malpais said, cutting the transmission.

"You seem quite skilled at giving orders to kill," said the woman, chained alongside the other two prisoners we had captured outside the bunker. Her voice, sharp and defiant, contrasted with the downcast gazes of her companions, who hadn't dared to speak since we brought them to the camp.

"And you seem quite skilled at speaking out of turn," I replied without even looking in her direction. My centurions and I were drafting the attack plan against the bunker, and her interruption was as irritating as it was unnecessary.

"Out of turn?" she retorted with a dry laugh. "Seems like the perfect time to me. After all, you're about to send hundreds of men to certain death. Or do you think breaking into Hidden Valley will be as easy as shouting 'Ave, Cesar'?"

"I've defeated your kind before... Maxson's expedition was crushed by the Legion, and it was my counsel that guided Legate Lanius to victory. I know how you think, how you fight, and most importantly, how to defeat you. Your precious bunkers have an obvious vulnerability: they need to open their airlocks periodically to renew the oxygen inside. That's the perfect moment to flood them with large amounts of nerve gas, turning their refuge into a silent tomb. And if that's not enough, we have plasma weapons capable of reducing your prized T-45 and T-51B power armor to smoldering scrap. Nothing you use is impenetrable; everything has a weak point, and I know how to find it."

The chained woman looked at me with a mixture of fury and, for the first time, something that could be described as worry. She knew my words weren't just empty threats. They were facts—calculated strategies designed to exploit every weakness the Brotherhood of Steel had left exposed in the past.

"So that's your grand plan," she finally said, her tone attempting to retain its defiance, though a hint of tension betrayed her. "Gas and plasma. Killing everyone you can without even looking them in the eye. Very brave of the Legion, isn't it? You don't face your enemies; you exterminate them like pests."

"Ah... I see what you're trying to do," I replied, ignoring her attempt to provoke me. "You're hoping to anger me into killing you so I lose the leverage of having you as a hostage. Clever. But I don't fall for provocations."

I let her speak. It was always fascinating to listen to someone who knew time wasn't on their side. There was something almost admirable in her ability to spit venom even when chains limited her movements and her words carried no weight in the unfolding events. Still, the time for words had ended.

Finally, my men returned with plasma rifles freshly scavenged from the remains of the Calculator's robotic army. Advanced, lethal weapons—perfectly capable of punching through Brotherhood power armor. I turned to the chained woman and her companions, their expressions oscillating between restrained rage and fear.

"Let's go, woman," I said, gesturing toward the other two prisoners. "You and your friends are going to help me avoid a bloodbath—or at least prevent yours from being the first spilled."

I ordered my men to place an explosive charge on the outer door of the bunker. The detonation thundered through the area, shaking the ground and leaving a cloud of dust and debris in its wake. When the smoke cleared, however, what remained was another door—much thicker, made of a material that would require more explosives and, more importantly, more time to breach.

We took the prisoners to the bunker's communication panel. The cameras, clearly operational, tracked our movements as we forced the three to kneel in front of the panel, plasma rifles trained on them. The scene was calculated, designed to send a clear message to those watching from the other side.

I knew they were watching me. The Brotherhood of Steel wouldn't ignore a direct threat to their survival. I adjusted my stance before the cameras, ensuring my presence dominated the space, and spoke with a tone that carried unshakable authority.

"I know you can hear me. I know you're watching and analyzing my every move. And I know you're debating what to do," I said calmly, letting the weight of each word sink in. "I demand a meeting with your Elder. We will negotiate your surrender. If you refuse, you won't just lose these three..."—I gestured toward the prisoners kneeling before me—"...you'll lose everything that remains of your Brotherhood."

I paused, allowing my words to echo through their systems. I knew deliberations on the other side would be tense, filled with anxious murmurs and nervous glances. I stared directly into the camera, projecting the intensity of someone looking their enemy in the eye.

"Time is limited," I added, my tone cutting like a blade. "Don't waste it."

After a long silence, a voice finally responded, laden with caution and distrust. "This is Elder McNamara," the bunker's leader announced. "Who among the Legion's leaders am I speaking to?"

"Legate Gaius," I replied, my authority unmistakable. "Commander of all Lord Caesar's armies in the Mojave. I will be brief, Elder McNamara, as my time is more valuable than yours."

Another pause, deliberate enough to heighten the tension. The static hum of the communication line amplified the weight of the moment.

"Surrender to Lord Caesar, as your brothers from Maxson's expedition did. They serve the Legion loyally and have ensured their survival. If you refuse, we will release nerve gas into the airlocks of your bunker. There will be no further warning."

My tone was icy and calculated, leaving no room for negotiation. It was the voice of someone who would not falter in the face of resistance—someone who enforced their will at any cost.

The silence that followed was thick, broken only by a faint hum. I could imagine the scene on the other side: McNamara weighing his options, the tense faces of his advisors, the murmurs heavy with desperation.

"How much time... do we have to give you an answer?" McNamara finally asked, his tone revealing the gravity of the decision he faced.

"One hour," I said with the precision of someone who controlled every second. "You have my permission to recover your captured members. I'm sure you have additional cameras to monitor what happens. Consider this an act of good faith."

I gestured for my men to release the prisoners. They rose slowly, their pride intact despite their capture.

As they departed, McNamara's voice interrupted the silence once more. "You mentioned that members of Maxson's expedition are working for you... Is Elder Andrea among them?"

"Yes," I replied evenly. "She's an efficient worker, maintaining the power armor my men use. If you wish, I can attempt to establish a radio connection so you can speak with her."

"That... would be necessary," he answered, his voice tinged with doubt and caution.

"Centurions, establish a connection immediately!" I ordered, and my men sprang into action. Efficiency was paramount; there was no time to waste.

Minutes passed as a weak signal was established with my settlement. I handed the communication equipment to the Brotherhood, placing it near the freed prisoners. I didn't need to stay and observe the conversation. The seed of surrender had already been planted.

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