In the opinion of Major Karishnakov, The Bulletfarm was no place to sire offspring fit enough the surpass him. With all the disease and defects bred into the new generation he, unlike his comrades in arms, he had rejected the reliability of breeding stock and instead handpicked his successor. The news that the Immortan's young son Rictus was growing up big and strong had spread across the waste igniting The Bulletfarmer's need to secure the hold on his territory in the event of a hostile takeover.
The Prime Imperator was tasked with gathering a group of fit, young men and women, the few they could find. Throughout the next week they were subjected to a brutal training regime to weed out the weak and unacceptable candidates. Their endurance, discipline and prowess were put to the limits and by the week's end all but two boys remained. A sudden case of night fever would take one of the remaining two leaving the victor as the sole heir to the entirety of the Bulletfarm.
Although Judge was still young, not even in his 17th year, his wit and knowledge made for excellent conversation leading the Bulletfarmer to fondly enjoy their time together. Over the next few years the Immortan's second son had been sent to Gastown as a warden in training to aid the People Eater. During this time The Buleltfarmer had focussed on Judge's diplomacy and knowledge of their faction, knowing he would one day have to forge new trade agreements with their neighbouring settlement.
Although The Citadel ran their supply convoy regularly between each settlement, ferry an array of goods and produce. As a precaution The Bulletfarmer ran his own secretive trade lines to Bartertown and places further west where the prying eyes of the Immortan did not reach. Judge had been trusted with the trade and was sent away to bartertown on the Rig with a crew of men and an Imperator at his disposal he felt his position in the Bulletfarm had been solidified.
Night fell deep as the icy fingers of the wind scoured the land, whipping up sand that rubbed skin raw. The bright icy moon lit up the landscape in a radioactive glow as the transport rig pulled up to the gates of the Bullet Farm. The heavily armed men that lined the walls signalled for the gates to let them pass. Judge surveyed his kingdom fondly, the endless pits that touched the core of the earth to the rising smoke stacks that held up the sky. He adjusted the ammunition belt that rested across his chest before clambering down from the cab of the rig. On command the men began to unload cargo boxes of parts and scrap valuable for repairing their presses and forgeries.
The Prime Imperator approached Judge as he oversaw his men, "The Bulletfarmer requires your presence in his office Sir." Judge looked up quizzically at his presence but followed his request and made his way into the private dwelling of his master. The hallway was lined with an assortment of weaponry mounted on hooks, relics from the before that were no longer manufactured. From his standing outside the office he could hear the muffled voices of the Bullet Farmer and an unfamiliar visitor. He rapped his knuckles against the thick door and the voices hushed.
"Come in Judge." As he entered the room he stopped to greet his Master before noticing the small figure seated across from him. Judge clenched his fist tightly beside him as the Bulletfarmer updated him on the new situation. The girl was his own flesh and blood only 3 seasons old birthed by one of his comforters who had since passed. She was apparently a full life with no visible illnesses and this mean she jeopardised everything for Judge. Surely Karishkanov would not appoint this girl as the future Judge, Jury and Executioner of the Bullet farm?
Judge smiled politely and held out his hand for her to shake, "It's a pleasure to meet you..?" She just peered up at him shyly from beneath her tawny bangs and looked towards her supposed father for guidance.
"Her name is Octavia," The Bullet Farmer nodded firmly at the girl who reached out and grasped Judge's much larger hand, "Octavia meet Judge, my second in command." Her palm felt soft against his calloused skin.
Judge turned his attention back to his mentor who had not yet finished his address. He wrote down notes as he spoke hoarsely, "I have organised a new legion of war boys be sent here from the Citadel as her personal guard. The Immortan is under the impression this is because of increasing Buzzards in the area and this is the story he is to be told until further notice, do you understand?"
"Sir, Yes sir," Judge complied with his mentor's wishes while silently praying word would get out about their new addition. The Immortan might demand she be handed over to join his legion of breeders in waiting, this he could only dream.
The Bullet Farmer had other things on his mind as he dismissed Judge for the day. Scrotus, the young warlord in training, had quickly become the talk of the wastes since descending on Gastown. The Iron Bride had apparently taken up residence inside the monstrous metropolis trying to secure his future as the People Eater's successor. The threat of Joe holding the monopoly over Gastown and the Citadel was worrisome.
He watched Octavia fiddle with the scales bolted to his desk as he pondered his new options. He could train Judge up as a Prime Imperator quick smart and have him sent to Gastown as an underling to Scrotus. During which time Octavia will have ripened into a strong young women, powerful enough to defend the farm without Judge's guidance. He leant back in his chair and admired his daughter as she sorted the shells and bullets on his desk into organised piles.