章節 82: The heir's question

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"I believe so, Lord Caesar," I replied, though my gaze lingered on a machine stationed in a corner of his tent. "Does that autodoc work?"

Caesar let out a slight sigh, his expression showing a hint of fatigue. "It's missing a part, the diagnostic module. I only use it for minor cuts or bruises," he said, gesturing to the machine.

"I think it will suffice for a simple procedure," I replied, forcing a faint smile to maintain composure, though I knew this was far from simple. Then, lowering my voice and glancing at Lucius, I added, "But I think we should discuss this in private, Lord Caesar."

Ever loyal, Lucius intervened immediately. "I am the protector of Lord Caesar at all times, and—"

"Lucius, step out," Caesar ordered, his authority leaving no room for dispute.

"At your command, Lord Caesar," Lucius replied, though he couldn't fully mask his concern as he left the tent.

Once we were alone, Caesar turned to me with an inquisitive gaze, a flash of anxiety visible in his eyes—something he rarely allowed to show. "What is it you wish to discuss?" he asked, his voice betraying a subtle worry.

I took a breath, fully aware of the gravity of my words. "The procedure… it won't be simple, Lord Caesar," I said candidly. "A brain tumor is no small matter. Nothing involving the brain is. And the issue isn't just the surgery itself but… your age, Lord Caesar. If you were younger, we might rely on the body's natural regeneration. But you are an older man… and we both know the truth. You're not the son of a god, as some might believe."

Caesar nodded slowly, understanding the severity of my words, yet showing no trace of fear. "What are you telling me, Gaius?"

"Even if the procedure is successful, Lord Caesar, there is a significant risk of cerebral hemorrhage. And, though we have access to modern medicine, the likelihood of such a hemorrhage being fatal is high."

Caesar looked at me with an unusually serious expression, devoid of the usual flashes of anger or frustration he often displayed. He seemed to absorb each word, his thoughts clearly turning inward.

"Are you saying this is the end for me, Gaius?" he asked, with not a shred of fear in his voice—only an acceptance that only great leaders can muster.

"Not necessarily, Lord Caesar. But I think you need to be fully aware of the risk. Success isn't guaranteed, and the cost could be high. Still, if this is the path you choose, I will do everything in my power to see you through it."

Caesar nodded, a flicker of his old determination returning to his eyes. "Then do what is necessary, Gaius. If this is my fate, let it come with the same courage with which I have led my Legion. I do not fear death… only leaving my vision unfinished."

"I understand, Lord Caesar… but I urge you, before the procedure, to designate a clear heir," I said, the weight of the situation pressing into my voice. "I know Rome is your model, but its greatest flaw was the lack of clear succession… I implore you, Lord Caesar, to resolve this matter promptly."

Caesar's gaze hardened slightly, as though the suggestion itself was an affront. "Do you think the Legion will die with me?" he asked, his voice tinged with a hint of anger, though there was something else behind that question—a doubt he had never voiced.

"Not immediately, Lord Caesar… but it could happen over time," I responded carefully. "The men will look to Lanius, to Malpais, or any other officer they deem strong. That fragmentation, that struggle for leadership, could ignite a civil war that would destroy all you've built. But if you establish a clear, legitimate heir, you leave rules of succession in place, and your vision endures."

Caesar regarded me in silence, his expression shifting, his anger turning to contemplation. It was as if he were weighing my words, looking beyond the offense and understanding the true danger.

"And how do you propose to address this, Gaius?" he asked at last, his tone less tense.

"Perhaps… through adoption, Lord Caesar," I suggested. "Rome had a tradition where emperors adopted their successor, who became their 'son' and heir, the 'grandson of Mars' in spirit and name. This would not only establish your successor but grant them the legitimacy and symbolism for all to accept. Your legacy would live on not only in the Legion but through your chosen heir."

Caesar remained silent, his eyes deep and contemplative, as though seeing beyond the present. I knew this was a difficult decision, one he had avoided, perhaps believing the Legion would carry on regardless of his fate. But now, facing the possibility of his mortality, he couldn't deny that an unregulated succession could destroy his dream of a Rome in the desert.

Caesar looked at me intently, waiting for my analysis. I took a moment to weigh each option before responding with the utmost candor, fully aware that my words would bear immense weight on the Legion's future.

"There are many considerations, Lord Caesar," I began. "Legate Lanius, for example. He represents the Legion's strength, and with his relative youth, he has the respect of most of the legionaries. He's a competent officer, proven in battle, though his relationship with the frumentarii could be a hindrance."

Caesar gave a slight nod, and I continued.

"Then there is Malpais… His failure at Hoover Dam has damaged his reputation, but he remains one of the Legion's founding figures. Recently, he has collaborated with Vulpes, which might improve his relations with the frumentarii, though his aggressive nature in combat could be a double-edged sword. Additionally… I don't believe he holds me in high regard, which could lead to conflicts in command should I remain in service under his leadership."

Caesar frowned slightly but gestured for me to continue.

"Vulpes," I continued, "is a brilliant tactician and strategist. He plans battles weeks in advance and manages to inflict significant damage with minimal resources. However, his lack of physical strength and his role as a frumentarii separate him from the image of a warrior, which may lead many legionaries to perceive him as weak."

Caesar appeared to consider this option with some skepticism, which I understood, given that the Legion values both strength and cunning. Finally, I addressed the last option.

"Lucius," I said, "is the conservative choice. He's respected by most of the Legion since he's personally trained thousands of legionaries. He's strong and competent in strategy, though perhaps not brilliant. Under Lucius, the Legion would remain a steady force, but without the sharpness that has defined your leadership, Lord Caesar."

Caesar remained silent for a moment, weighing my words. Then, his gaze sharpened, a glint of intrigue crossing his eyes. "And what about you, Gaius? Do you not consider yourself worthy?"

The question didn't surprise me; in fact, it was the intention to show modesty and loyalty. I kept my expression neutral. "You asked me for counsel, Lord Caesar. My duty is to provide an impartial analysis, which should not include my own worth. Otherwise, judgment might be compromised."

Caesar studied me carefully, as if he wanted to see beyond my words. "Your loyalty is undeniable, Gaius, and your mind is sharp. I had some concerns about your flexibility in enforcing my law… but it seems the fears I shared with Vulpes were unnecessary," he said in a calm tone, though his words carried the weight of a confession.

"I have always been loyal to you, Lord Caesar," I responded. "I simply prefer to make decisions with long-term considerations whenever I have the chance."

Caesar nodded, silently reflecting on my words, his gaze fixed on a point beyond the present. After a few moments, he sighed and looked at me intently. "Tell me, Gaius, what would you do if you had to take Vegas without Lanius' reinforcements?"

"I am already employing that strategy, Lord Caesar," I replied confidently. "Lanius is marching back to the front with a massive legion, between forty and sixty thousand men. However, the campaign in the Mojave, as I have planned it, is swift and decisive. In a week, we'll be besieging New Vegas, and the NCR will likely abandon the city. To them, Vegas is indefensible: their supply lines are crippled, and their troops' morale is in shambles, especially now that their only hope lies in reinforcements still far away."

"The true obstacle will be Mr. House," I continued, "the city's ruler. His robot army is a formidable force, but we have ample experience fighting and dismantling war machines. We must destroy the factories where these robots are produced and, more importantly, take down the power sources sustaining the city. Once these critical points are disabled, Mr. House's robotic force will gradually collapse, leaving only NCR soldiers and the profligate civilians, who will face us in a brutal urban fight."

Caesar remained silent, his eyes fixed on me, evaluating each word. Finally, his stern gaze softened slightly, a mix of intrigue and cautious approval gleaming in his expression.

"When Vegas is secured, we'll consolidate direct routes to the Mojave," I continued calmly, observing Caesar as he weighed my words. "This will be only the beginning."

"And after that, Gaius? What would you do if I gave you no orders?" Caesar asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Then I would begin pacification," I replied without hesitation. "We'll start with the tribals we currently employ against the NCR. Some must be eliminated; their dependency on drugs and instability make them a risk to our lines. Others, like the Khans, could be integrated into the Legion. They will submit, one way or another. Our supply lines must be secure, at any cost. And… I would also seek to negotiate a temporary peace with the NCR," I concluded, meeting Caesar's gaze directly.

A flicker of doubt crossed his face, but maintaining his composure, he asked, "Why, Gaius?"

"War, Lord Caesar, is unpopular. It imposes high taxes, costs lives, and exhausts the people. Kimball clings to power through war. If the NCR maintains emergency powers in times of conflict, you can be sure he'll use them. This will lead us into a war of annihilation that will drain our resources and wear down our legions. But if we show a willingness for peace and send moderate terms, returning prisoners and fallen soldiers, the NCR Senate may turn against Kimball."

Caesar listened intently as I continued.

"Elections might be called, and a pacifist leader could be elected. This new president would focus on rebuilding the NCR's economy, lowering taxes, and ending forced conscriptions. And if we, in turn, show that the Legion has achieved its objectives in the Mojave and are consolidating the East and South, the NCR will feel safe. Then we can pursue the true vision, Lord Caesar: civilizing and strengthening the Legion."

I let my words linger in the air for a moment before adding, "And when the enemy feels relaxed, convinced of our withdrawal and that we are merely history… we will strike again. With a force they have never seen before."

Caesar nodded slowly, a faint smile crossing his face. "You have a bold mind, Gaius… I like that." But before he could continue, he brought a hand to his head, his eyes squeezed shut, his face contorted in pain.

"Damn… this one's the worst yet…" he muttered through clenched teeth. "When will you perform the procedure?"

"I will order the missing part for the autodoc and bring my best surgeons," I replied calmly, despite the urgency I felt. "I have trained men in my legion, as well as simulation machines. We will rehearse every step of the procedure. If you allow me three days, Lord Caesar, we'll be ready to ensure the highest chances of survival."

Caesar took a deep breath, nodding with a mixture of exhaustion and resolve. "Good… do it," he murmured. "I need rest."

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