Auction
*Extra long chapter today! Hope y'all don't mind! Happy New Years Eve!*
"My Primus, Lord Interfector of Phoenix has ordered me to inform you that your party is allowed to attend the auction provided you abide by his terms: Specific to your case, you four are allowed to keep your weapons loaded, so long as they remain holstered or slung in a manner with your fingers off the trigger. You must also consent to a contubernium of primes as your permanent escort while you are within the Circle Junction territorial limits. You four are allowed to participate in the auction, but must also know that maintaining tranquility is non-negotiable, for accompanying your escort contubernium, you will be observed at all times by our sharpshooters. It is imperative that you keep any hostile gestures and tones in check, for they will not be tolerated and may result in your being fired upon. Also, because My Primus has been gracious enough to allow your participation in the auction, it must also be said that we will not accept any currency other than gold or silver. Caps may be exchanged for gold or silver, but bottle cap usage in the auction will render your bid as void. If any currency needs to be exchanged, a slave master will be brought to your designated section for that purpose. Lastly, you are to stay in said designated section and not move, so that you do not frighten the other auction attendees. Is all this understood?"
"Uh-Kuh... Hooman sed 'Primes' is for sell?" asked the enormous green humanoid after agreeing to the terms.
Centurion Aleron corrected, "No, the Prime Legionaries will be watching you with weapons ready while you remain in Circle Junction regional limits. Your prime escort is not for sale. But My Lord Interfector says you are free to buy any human on that stage when the auction begins... And no, the announcer will not be for sale."
"Uh-Kuh." agreed the mutant again while Aleron stepped aside, allowing them through the gate and motioning for the prime legionaries to follow close behind.
Aleron watched the four super mutants shuffle past, each one carrying an enormous machinegun the size of Aleron himself, and one carrying a large sack over his shoulder that apparently contained bottlecaps due to the occasional piece falling from a small tear as the mutant walked. Aleron then motioned towards the decanus on the roof above him and the man, in turn, gestured towards the other rifle-armed legionaries on the rooftops who all trained their weapons on the mutants towering above the passing crowds. As Aleron walked back to the Interior Plaza through the herds of wastelanders, he reached the opening to the plaza and looked over the scene as he made his way to the Interfector's platform. He couldn't see the stage itself due to the enormous crowd, but he could see the backdrop for it over the heads of the people by the big Bull banner nearly taking up the whole wall of the barracks opposite the Interfector's Palace. Moving towards the Interfector's platform, he wordlessly shoved any waster who happened to be in his way, and walked up the few steps where he noticed the Interfector's special sign still looked quite nice despite the out of place looking "A."
The Centurion stood by the railing and did his headcount one more time, noticing that all twelve of the other staff legionaries were in their places seated behind the Interfector, and the eight VIPs were also correctly in their spots. Everything was good, and Aleron knew he'd executed his instructions flawlessly. As he inched to his spot beside the Interfector, he wasn't even looking where he went, instead taking mental note that the decanus in charge of the mutants' prime escort had positioned them correctly in their designated section. Before turning around to move to his seat, he looked to see his Primus was chatting lively with Gabriella, giving her hollow words about his satisfaction with a recent job she'd done on a torn tunic of his. Aleron looked to Dalton on the opposite side of the Interfector, and the two exchanged cordial nods before Aleron finally took his seat beside the Elite. Aleron looked straight ahead and caught Gabriella's cheeks still slightly more colored before the Elite's words entered his ears;
"... Isn't that right, Centurion Aleron? You got one Hell of a good seamstress there."
Aleron noticed his servant blush again out of the corner of his eye again and turned to his Primus, "Of course, Lord Interfector. Creating Gabriella's value has been something I hope I've done to your satisfaction as it has my own."
"You're telling me," said the Elite before adding, "I've been thinking about finally getting myself a servant. Get dear Gabriella here a friend to deal with since I'm sure she's tired of being around us men all the time."
Aleron knew that made the woman smile, and he allowed it as he said, "A personal servant would be most beneficial to My Primus if he desires."
The Elite said, "I'll consider it... I could use someone as skilled as you in the initial forging of ownership though. Perhaps the spirit of the auction will finally get the better of me today."
The four watched another long line of wasters enter the plaza from the east gate and merge with the growing crowd of auction attendees as Aleron responded, "I'd be happy to aid in whatever way possible, Primus."
Just then, Dalton leaned forward into Aleron's view and asked him, "Did I hear you're gonna be breaking slaves for our Elite here? If so, I wouldn't mind getting in on that action too. I've been wanting a servant for a while now and surely if you can show one the ropes, two wouldn't be too much more of a burden, right?"
The Elite grinned and Aleron knew the "Joke." Aleron still replied, "Perhaps the frumantarius would be needed somewhere else in the near future. Espionage is hardly a station that accounts for the upkeeps of servants."
Dalton and the Elite chuckled, Aleron grinned, and the three looked back at the loud masses still filing into the plaza. Knowing the auction was only around ten minutes before beginning, Aleron turned to his servant and asked her slowly;
"Have you completed your duties?"
The servant was no longer smiling, but she wasn't frowning either as she replied simply, "Yes, Master Aleron."
Aleron nodded with his usual stern countenance and added, "Are you comfortable enough?... I do not want you constantly getting up and down when the auction begins."
Gabriella relaxed her shoulders slightly, "Yes, Master. Is there anything I can bring you beforehand?"
"No" was Aleron's simple answer before saying, "... You are relieved of all chores till the end of the auction."
The smallest hint of a smile appeared on her face before concluding the interaction with her owner with a "Thank you, Master Aleron."
When Aleron turned back to the crowd, the Interfector stood himself up with a casual effort and telepathically told Aleron and Dalton to do the same. Together, the three leaned on the railing and looked out over the crowd. They quietly watched yet another long stream of attendees enter the fortress plaza. The Interfector said plainly as he nodded in satisfaction;
"Excellent turnout today."
Aleron studied the crowd as Dalton the Frumantarius talked with the Elite. Standing before the large stage opposite the Interfector's private platform were just about every kind of person you could imagine.
Legion auctions were a relatively infrequent occasion and many were rarely opened to the public like this one. Though a person living in or passing through Legion land could purchase a slave from almost any Legion outpost or garrison across the southwest, auctions like this one were mostly used as public spectacles to gather support and goodwill from the people in Legion occupied lands. It is true that the Legion could draft anyone into supporting the Legion at the drop of a hat, but the people in occupied lands knew most of all that Caesar was at war with the tribals of this wasteland.
For the most part, Caesar left the civilized townships alone provided that they do business with the Legion or Legion approved settlements alone, and contribute to the Legion whenever they came asking. Still, the number of townships in Arizona and New Mexico at this point were many, and Caesar had no intention of forcing them into servitude while his forces were sifting through the ashes of New Mexico and preparing to march on the tribals of Colorado. Because of this, Caesar felt a certain obligation to keep the cooperative peoples in his land at least somewhat satisfied and the Interfector (The destroyer of a former civilized opposition) was in an excellent position to enforce such a demand. The added bonus of these events was that the proceeds of these auctions kept the money going right back into the Legion and bought loyalty from the producers of goods and equipment that were relatively unavailable by the Legion's internal means of slave labor production. Because of this, the Interfector's auctions had become something of a grand event for the Legion and people of upper Arizona and New Mexico.
Like usual, the crowd Aleron and the Interfector looked over was full of the usual attendees. Everyone from wasteland mercenaries, local merchants, independent Legion marked caravaners, craftsmen, artisans, scavers, salvagers, commoners from allied towns, men, women, children, whole families, auxilia allies, and over 200 Legion officers on respite made up the crowd.
It might have been a shock to the outside observer to see something like a father, mother, and their three kids at a Legion auction, but slavery as an institution even back in the days of old and in the days of the Legion attracted any and all. The simple idea was: "Why should I have to work when I can make someone else do it only at the expense of their basic food and shelter?" This was a practice that attracted any and all, so it of course wasn't uncommon to see whole families and people from every walk of life attend a Legion auction. Why should a struggling wasteland rancher or farmer have his wife and kids out in the fields all day when he can pay the Legion for a couple of slaves to do the job for them with the added guarantee that they'd been conditioned to obey? Families and people like that were the ideal situation for the slaves to step on that stage since most of those buyers treated their slaves very well and often ended up becoming members of the family. Unfortunately, the crowd was still full of other auction attendees who had deeper pockets and their own twisted desires and uses for the soon to be purchased. Amongst the monsters in the crowd, the buyers of slaves had intentions ranging anywhere between: A Centurion who lost his little girl from disease and was looking for some new child that reminded him of that precious innocence he lost, to a successful young local merchant who feels the need to obtain an attractive sex object conditioned into obedience to whoever purchased her chains.
If one looked out at the attending crowd, they'd see every kind of person imaginable and all were there to purchase human beings for any number of purposes. The Interfector looked over the masses and knew that this situation was inevitable and whether the attendee was there for simple practical purposes or malicious ones, he knew that, in this world, you are either the person in a position to buy, or a position to be bought. Everyone in the crowd indulged in being on their side of the stage.
The time was fast approaching for the auction to begin as one of the last groups of attendees came in from the south gate and the Interfector glanced over to the spot away from the crowd where those four mutants were and said to Aleron;
"Everything go alright with the greenskins Aleron?"
A slave master was exchanging bottlecaps for Legion currency with the mutants when Aleron replied, "Yes, Primus. No issues to report. I am interested in your approach towards the mutated in your jurisdiction since I have not heard of Caesar's law on such 'persons' past the battlefield extermination order."
"You and me both..." said the Interfector before adding, "standing directive states only whether or not the conquered and subjugated can be beneficial to the Legion."
"I've heard of mutant strongholds across AZ falling to our forces but... It isn't too often I've ever had to deal with cooperative mutants," said Aleron.
Dalton jumped in, "Seems there's a lot of them out there that are pretty done with fighting for the Master... Finally..."
The Interfector replied, "With no direct policy from Caesar, I'd say as long as their money is worth something, I'll leave them be... That's been the approach I've been utilizing with the occasional group of ghouls as well."
Aleron thought about a previous eradication policy towards most ghouls, and hadn't considered the matter in a while. Still, he knew his Primus well, and knew the man reached out for approval from Caesar on just about all matters related to Legion territorial policy. Still, Aleron knew from experience that ghouls and mutants made excellent target practice when in captivity, but the Killer had unique ways of handling almost all matters of territorial control. Aleron did not know Caesar, never met the man, but he knew the Elite, and because Caesar almost never contacted the Interfector in regard to policy, the man was more often than not able to run his entrusted lands as he saw fit. The general rule in the Legion, as well as many other military organizations, is: "If you don't hear from the boss, you're probably doing your job well enough."
The three continued to monitor the crowd for a few quiet seconds and Aleron noted the legionaries on stage doing their last-minute checks on the numbered slave platforms and sound system.
Suddenly, Dalton said, "Speaking of 'Monsters', who's that towering above the rest of the crowd?"
Aleron and the Interfector looked to the crowd and where Dalton was pointing. It wasn't hard to see who he was talking about since the lone figure towered at least a whole foot and a half above everyone else. The person's back was turned, but showed the lining of a red cape identifying the man as a centurion, and the golden pauldrons on his shoulders were indicative of some sort of elite status Legion armor as well as the dull golden helmet sitting atop those shoulders. Not long after seeing the giant, he turned down to someone below him, presumably to address someone. There, Aleron caught a glimpse of the side of that helmet, showing a sharp metal beard design and a large blade going vertically along the forehead and past the tall plume of red officer identifying feathers.
The Interfector leaned to Aleron and said still loud enough for Dalton to hear, "Is that the guy? That 'Centurion Carnifex?' we were talking about a couple weeks back?"
Dalton asked, "You know him? Never seen a set of armor quite like that, at least outside of the Palatii."
The Interfector still studied the distant giant in the crowd as he replied to Dalton, "I think we all do. Pretty sure he was that Hidebark Giant Caesar took a shine to a few years back..."
"No shit, glad he's on our side... What's he doing at your auction?" said Dalton.
"No idea..." replied the Interfector dryly before Aleron added, "Either that guy or the big 12-year-old we made a mask for around that same time."
"Which is it?" asked Dalton.
"No clue," replied the Elite again before adding, "Suppose we could find out though."
The crowds continued to merge with the massive audience in the Interior Plaza as the Interfector leaned down to a couple of veterans guarding the private platform and requested them to summon the giant centurion. Not more than two minutes later, the monster had turned toward the platform and all three were better able to see the giant's mask. The two horns on the side of the thing looked especially ominous to them for some reason as the giant marched slowly towards them in a straight line, stepping through the crowd with zero regard for anyone else. No amount of spectators obstructed the monster's path and some small children on the edge of the crowd were pulled out of the way just in time by their slave buying parents to prevent their trampling by the mechanically moving Legion monster. When the giant reached the clearing between the crowd and the Interfector's private platform, they got a full look at his being. Every metal piece of the man's armor was a dull gold, some pieces even spattered with blood, and that cape hung down to the knees behind a gold cuirass that would have shimmered in the light if it wasn't beneath the smoke clouded sky of Circle Junction.
The beast stepped within five feet of the platform and all three men later remarked that the earth appeared to stop shaking the second he quit moving those heavy golden spiked boots (This is likely Hyperbole). When the monster stopped, his proximity did nothing to aid in the trio's possible familiarization with the man since none had ever seen that Hidebark's face and doubted whether the facial design of the mask was a style of "Death Mask." The monster stood there five feet from them but was nearly eye level with the trio atop the raised platform. Without any word or standard greeting, the Centurion giant stood before the Circle Junction Elite without even giving the standard Legion greeting and hail to Caesar. Still, the silence just by that monster standing there was enough until the Elite decided to engage with him, possibly enlighten the reason for the summons.
"That, is quite the mask you have there. Feel free to take it off if you want, let the hair down a bit. I can't recall putting your name on the guard roster. ha."
The monster stood there silent, and even the crowd seemed to quiet down according to the trio who stood before him. Aleron wondered if it was the angle from where he stood, but he noticed that he could not see the eyes in the darkness behind the eye slits on the monster's mask. He recalled other wearers of custom Legion masks he'd seen and how he could usually see the pupils or irises of the wearer inside, but not this man. The monster's head never moved from its focus on the Elite after the utterance as Aleron thought about that bleeding bandage mask the Hidebark Giant wore.
After enough time, The Elite asked, "So... What brings you to town? Come to see one of the Interfector's famou-"
"Slaves." said the monster in a voice that bore little resemblance to the guttural breathing of that Hidebark Giant. Still, the lone word was amplified by the narrow mouth slit above the mask's metal beard somehow making the lone word sound even more terrible.
The Interfector collected himself a moment after the word and replied in his usual way lacking the finer points of Legion etiquette, "I figured slaves was the reason you're at my... slave... auction..."
The beast remained silent again before the Elite added, "In the market for anything in particular? I'm sure I can set some aside if you're outbid. It's the least I can do for a notable individual such as yourself. You are that 'Centurion Carnifex' I'd been hearing about, right?"
Silence once again.
The Elite took the silence this time as a "Yes" to the latter question before asking, "Last I heard, you've been doing some recon in Colorado. How's that going?"
At last, the monster spoke, "I report to Caesar alone, Elite Centurion." in that same terrible voice that internally scared the three men on the platform for reasons they could not figure. The Elite attempted once more to break through to the "man" behind the mask as he said;
"Please, call me, Int...er..." but let the words be killed by the beast's silence as he got lost even more in the black eyes of the golden mask.
With time seemingly stopped in this terrible conversation with the figure, seconds felt like minutes in the monster's silence. Finally, the Elite mustered enough of himself up to try one last time at familiarization with Caesar's mysterious new "Right hand" for the coming Colorado Campaign. The Interfector finally said;
"... Anyway, perhaps you could settle a curiosity of mine: Did you happen to be that Hidebark warrior Caesar brought into the fold a few years back? Or were you that child who came out of soldier camp at age 12 and won Caesar's favor in New Mexico? I heard that kid was fucking enormous..."
Dalton gave a weak and terrified laugh to back up his Interfector's statement about the 12-year-old but ended it immediately at the mere notion of that giant's head turning to face him instead.
The Interfector went on hesitantly after losing even his friend's backing in this nowhere conversation. Aleron remained silent and the Interfector continued talking at the golden statue, "... That mask looks familiar, and both had masks made for them here in Circle Junction around the time I became Praetor. Unfortunately, those records were destroyed under order for some reason and I can't quite tell if you're th-"
This time there was no silence, the monster's words shot out of the mask's mouth, straight into the depths of the Circle Junction administrator and his men's souls. Without lacking in the Legion's distinctive way of speaking, the monster gave a direct order to the Elite underneath the interruption;
"Are any of your words a means of directive conveyance on behalf of Caesar, Elite Centurion?"
The Interfector, glanced to both of his familiar staff members who remained silent. Finally refocusing back on his terrifying "Subordinate" and those black eyes. He replied, "... No. Not really... Just heard some things about you and... Making conversation?"
The mysterious Legion giant remained silent yet again, allowing his being alone to do its terrifying work to the entirety of Circle Junction itself. The silence this time lasted for so long that the Interfector found himself readying for some means of defense. Though the beast was unarmed at the moment, The Interfector knew that his head could be removed from his shoulders just by that giant's enormous hands and arms alone. Aleron briefly glanced back at his Elite whose face showed little to no change from its usual emotionless state. Still, Aleron could read the mind of his Primus in that strange telepathic way that all Legionaries share. But was this monster an actual Legionary too?
Neither the Elite, Aleron, or Dalton could hear the subconscious words from the monster before them... Then they understood it, The Monster heard all of their internal communication and didn't need to say or even think anything that could be understood by Caesar's servants. The Monster's presence alone said all it needed to as he maintained his statue-like position. That presence and that terrifying silence said to all three men, "You may wear the titles of Caesar's favor, but I AM Caesar."
Once all three on the platform understood this message, the silence was finally broken when the words, "Unless you are reporting an order from Caesar, I advise the Elite not to speak to me" came demonically, sternly, and directly from the towering golden statue.
"Of course, hail Caesar..." said the Elite to that red cape already stomping back toward his prior spot in the crowd.
Without word, the trio looked at one another without change in countenance, but all internally agreeing on their shared conclusion from the talk: "Stay out of his way."
A moment after the monster took his place back in the crowd, the audience of the Interior Plaza was packed nearly from wall to wall. The last of the guards came in from the four roads to the Interior Fortress and the announcer took his place on the stage. During one more microphone check, the Interfector signaled to his staff friends to take a seat, and they did. Aleron briefly noticed Gabriella's face still looked scared by that monster's proximity but eased up a little when the announcer stepped to the center stage.
The announcer stood there in standard Legion garb with the lighter recruit style armor marked by the insignias of a Veteran and with several sets of black chains around his shoulders and arm bracers indicating him as a slave master. The man was without helmet, as usual for the position, and though he was without a standard face covering, he looked over the enormous crowd through a large set of reflective black shades. The sky got darker despite being about noon, due to the scheduled release of smoke from the Forge's smokestacks across the city. With the dramatic change in lighting, the announcer lifted those glasses and rested them between two of the points in his short black mohawk before cupping his hand around that microphone in the center stage. Without personal welcome to the masses, the announcer began with his formal introduction as he scanned the crowd and pocketed his script from the Interfector.
"On behalf of the Praetor of Circle Junction, Regional Domestic Authority over the occupied lands of Arizona, New Mexico, and all Territorial Subsidiaries and Townships, Master of Logistical Administration across all fronts, Current Commander of the 5th Municipal Cohort, and Regulator of all Legion personnel within Circle Junction territorial jurisdiction, Benefactor of Legion Auxilia, Intermediary between Legion activities and civilian relations, Head Instructor of the 1st Legion Assimilation and Training Corps: Elite Centurion Lord Interfectorem of Phoenix: I have been instructed to welcome all here today to this auction of prime slaves..."
Eyes fixed forward, the Interfector thought out loud, "Wow. I was sure he'd need the script for my intro."
Aleron grinned with pride whenever the Interfector was shocked by the competence of even the littlest known legionaries.
The introduction didn't go on for much longer, but the audience of mostly wasters started hollering boos when the first round of slaves stepped onto the stage. Despite the boos, the announcer never waivered as he resumed the introduction to that first set of slaves to take the auction blocks, "... Given their condition, the prices have been set and this deal is not to happen again. Coming from an occupied mine in the far east, these slaves are the ideal purchase for anyone with mining contracts, or those in search of..."
As the ten slaves were shackled in place on stage, the crowd continued to boo the display, and Aleron turned to the Interfector, "Shall I pass orders to silence the hecklers?"
Still looking towards the stage, the Interfector replied, "Maybe... Hold that thought though. Let's see if my man remembers his lines without help from the script."
"For the slave on platform 1, you may cast your bids starting at 5 denarii... Now."
Immediately, the incoherent protests in the crowd became discernable after the announcer was done speaking. One person in the crowd audibly screamed for the whole plaza to hear, "I thought this was a Legion auction!?" and another shouted, "Why would you even offer Them!?" Even one of the super mutants in the back thundered, "We come far Prime Hooman!"
With no takers on the first slave, the announcer reached into his pocket, apparently for the script, but his hand came out empty as he met the protests of the audience with, "You all seriously don't want a slave who can live forever!?..."
There was silence in the crowd and the ghouls on stage hung their heads even lower. The announcer added, "... Sure there's the smell, but who can pass up a slave that barely needs to eat or drink? They don't even need shelter since we had to pull them from a hole in the ground!" The crowd quieted again and let the idea of Legion-made ghoul slaves sink in. The announcer scanned the crowd again and said;
"I'll repeat once more, the bidding for the creature on platform 1 starts at 5 denarii."
Before he could say "Now" several in the crowd already began casting their offers while many of the others couldn't get over the idea of having a ghoul near them. Those people at least remained silent, even if they were busy internally calculating the potential benefits of such a purchase. The first ghoul slave sold for 17 Denarii, and the relatively low price caused the bidding wars for the next ghoul slaves to grow even hotter.
As the masses continued to bid on rotting flesh, Dalton asked the Elite, "And you're sure Caesar gave the stamp of approval on selling those creatures?"
The Elite continued to look out at the stage and all those irradiated persons in slave rags beneath the Bull banner as he replied, "Pretty sure."
"What do you mean?" asked Dalton as Aleron continued silently making his ocular rounds on the rooftop guard positions.
"I reached out about it a month back and got his response only a week or two ago..." said the Elite before Dalton interrupted out of a strange curiosity;
"What did he say?"
The Elite said, "If I remember correctly, I'll try to remember his exact quote.. He said, quote, 'I don't have time for this shit. The Guerreros have fallen just yesterday and I need you to order the 19th and 39th Centuries to fill in for the respite units in Roswell.'"
"That's it?" asked Dalton.
"No, that's not all..." said the Elite before resuming his quote, "He also said, 'I need 18 crates of Prime equipment, 6 crates of Veteran equipment, and provisions for a full-strength Cohort Section's 15-day march set under watch at the 41/160 Colorado Sector outpost.'..."
The Elite remained silent while Dalton waited for some sort of answer to his question. Upon realizing the Interfector already answered the question, he responded, "... Caesar's too focused on gearing up for Colorado, huh?"
"That's my read," said the Elite before finally ending the questions, "Boss don't have eyes for much else when there's a goal in his mind." The two nodded, and Aleron nodded as well, having heard all he was supposed to in their conversation.
Thirty minutes after the start of the auction, 3 sets of ten ghoul slaves had taken the stage and been sold to what appeared to be a small collection of maybe three or four buyers interested in the ghoul slaves. Though the reasons for their purchase was unknown, the Elite passed an order to a group of veterans guarding the platform. Handing them a small stack of sealed envelopes, the Elite said to the guards;
"Find those tolerant slavers who bought the ghouls and give each of them one of these..." Patting the top of the letter stack, he added, "Such slave buyers deserve some sort of acknowledgement for their liberality."
The Veterans marched towards the stage, through the crowd, and towards the designated area on the side where the buyers got to meet their new properties and fill out the proper paperwork and titles of ownership.
Up next in the auction were the men. As the long line of men in rags marched on stage under escort, the announcer began his introduction for the slave men. It should be easily understood that slave men were not very common in the Legion. Many of the assumptions and propaganda were correct in the Legion's dealings with those they conquer. Putting it basically: The conquered man goes to soldier camp and becomes a body to die for Caesar while the conquered woman goes to a slave camp where they are in turn conditioned into obedience to the Legion. Whether the slave goes to bolster the workforce of a century on campaign march, goes to Circle Junction to work the forges, or goes to a breeding camp to produce children, the Legion social structure was simple: Men are expected to fight and die and women are expected to do just about everything else. This all said, male slaves were unique in any area of Legion military focus, but male slaves were not entirely uncommon in Legion-occupied lands or settlements like Circle Junction.
Most male slaves were men in Legion-occupied land who made some small infraction against regional code and found themselves paying the price through servitude. Much like in Clara's case, many male slaves were also the victims of voluntary servitude arrangements with the local Legion force. It wasn't that uncommon for a man to find himself under the pursuit of debtors in his small Arizona town and figure that the best way to escape was to disappear into the slave masses of a Legion City like Circle Junction. If the conditions and treatment weren't good, the Legion most certainly didn't lack in security against outside parties in whatever territory they were operating in. Although it again wasn't often, the crippled or wounded victims of the Legion were not always slaughtered outright for uselessness. It too wasn't abnormal for a tribal warrior who got his hand cut off in battle against the Legion to be treated as he watched his home get burned. It is true that those were the types of people to usually be killed in a merciless warning display, some injured males ended up going to the slave camps and later sent to places like Circle Junction to fuel the Legion in some alternative means. Most of these cases were left up to the Centurion's authority but either way, if a man found themselves in Legion chains, the last place they'd want to be is in front of an aution crowd.
The announcer went on with the introductions before each bidding session, going over the slave's background (If there was one) and different ways the slave could be useful, especially if the male slave was crippled. Most of the men were auctioned off to reluctant buyers more eager to get the auction moving towards the best round of slaves, rather than out of use for a male servant.
Four groups of men were sold to various auction attendees, and it was even during the last group of 6 crippled men that the super mutants made their purchases. Nobody knows why the super mutants took interest in the crippled men, but it could be assumed that the legless men wouldn't be able to get away even without Legion chains or security.
The second to last group to take the stage were the women, and those in the crowd that diverted their attention to other attractions during previous slave groups turned immediately back when the first line of women took their place on the blocks. Again, the announcer introduced each woman one at a time, giving background and potential usefulness to the future buyers. This was necessary in this case since the last group of slaves would need very little explanation of benefits. Either way, the auction went on, and one woman after another was introduced to the crowd. The bidding wars for these women were still fierce since many of the women to take the stage were experienced Legion slaves with many varying skills and specialties. Amongst the five sets of ten women to walk up on that stage, they were sold to the wicked masses for experience as wet nurses, healers, midwives, craft makers, and every form of common labor tasks.
In one of the last sets in this round, a mother and her three kids were displayed for the crowd. A notable individual who was not seen managed to acquire the mother and two of the three children but was unfortunately outbid on the final block 4. Families that stepped on that stage were often kept together by that whisper of humanity in the hearts of all people, including those that purchase others. Although, when the money runs out, it runs out. A Centurion on respite somewhere in the mass outbid the gentleman for the other little girl on block 4. It was easy to hear some of the groans from a few of the more sympathetic slave buyers on the edge of the crowd, but the deal was set and the mother protested terribly as her other little girl was escorted off the opposite side of the stage.
Once the family was sold, there was a brief intermission before the finale of the Interfector's signature auctions. Aleron stayed put with Gabriella while the Interfector walked off to go have a talk with his VIPs on the platform. Those VIPs were just a few independent craftsmen and supply caravanners from local settlements that dealt with the Interfector personally on many occasions.
While Aleron remained in his seat, he did a headcount and gave nods to the rest of the staff seated behind them. Before turning back to the crowd, he noticed Dalton having a discussion with one of the Elite's personal runners. Not long after noticing this, Dalton stood up and followed the runner off the private platform where they disappeared into the crowd. A few minutes later, the Elite took his seat back beside Aleron and glanced towards Dalton's empty chair before shrugging and assuming he went to stretch his legs. Another moment later and the crowd quieted down once more as the announcer took his place on the center stage. Nearly three hours into the auction and most of the crowd was more than ready for the reason they came in the first place.
The announcer began with all the organized flare that the script he remembered provided. Resuming the festivities again with the overly long introduction for the Circle Junction Praetor, he said;
"On behalf of the Praetor of Circle Junction, ... -, Head Instructor of the 1st Legion Assimilation and Training Corps: Elite Centurion Lord Interfectorem of Phoenix: These final slaves are the reason most of you come from so far and traveled so many miles to be the owner of these-..."
Aleron's Primus leaned to him, "You got around to signing off on those final four, right?"
"Of course, Primus. I even sectioned off the ones you had in mind" said Aleron.
The Elite turned back to the crowd, "Good. I don't think I'd break the spirit of the auction for any of them, but I suppose we'll see what happens."
The announcer went on, "... Hand picked, inspected, and primed for servitude by Elite Centurion Lord Interfectorem of Phoenix himself..."
Just then, Dalton took his seat beside the Interfector and the two began quietly talking while Aleron turned back to the stage, "... It is with great pleasure that my Primus presents to you all, the first section of slaves in this final round. Bids starting at 2 aurei, please welcome: The Triplets of Tesuque."
The announcer went on with the background information, but none of that was needed for the masses of degenerates as three of the most gorgeous women in the world stepped triumphantly onto the stage like they owned the whole world. No chains were needed for this last round of top-tier slaves as the three sisters danced up to their auction blocks using the short walk as a time to display their flexibility. With most of the previous buyers busy organizing their new purchases, all that was left in the crowd were the most vile of slave buying men. Because the whooping masses drowned the rest of the introductions, the information was not needed for them but may be to the reader:
The last round of slaves were women, beautiful women to be particular. To be even more particular, these last women, including the beautiful triplets, had been conditioned in a special partition of the Breeding Camp's authority. These women had undergone months of psychological terror and abuse to come out as mere objects used solely for the pleasure of men. Without "Spoiling their goods" the Legion degraded these women to the point where they only eat, sleep, and breathe sex. The women to hop on that stage did so unlike the prior slaves who walked up onto their platforms in chains. These women were psychologically twisted so much that they had been waiting breathlessly for the final moment where they'd be sold to someone for their sole new purpose in life.
The Interfector did indeed handpick these women during his monthly rounds through the slave, and breeding camps outside Circle Junction. Upon doing so, he had the attractive young women sent to the special conditioning camp. From there, they wait in reserve till the next auction. Selected months in advance of any auction, when they are selected, they spend the entire time undergoing a beautification regimen that can only be called terrifying. With every second of the selected woman's life ensuring they look presentation and purpose level ready, the Interfector personally checked up on each of the top tier sex slaves the hour before an auction. Given how hurried the auction was and due to the insurrection problem in the city previously, it was only through Legion competence that the Elite with assistance from Aleron organized such a display. Even if many in the crowd had already made their purchases or didn't have the money to bid, the caliber of women up there in the finest of crafted clothing certainly made everyone stick around at least till the end of the show.
When the cue was given, the wealthier attendees in the crowd immediately began bidding enormous amounts of gold just on the first block. Starting at 2 aurei, it wasn't more than two minutes in that the price of that first triplet reached 21 aurei. Just as the announcer was about to make the call on that first woman, the crowd quieted just enough for a terrifying voice to boom throughout the entire plaza. The world seemed to pause and the crowd went dead silent as that voice pierced the smoke clouded world of Circle Junction;
"80 Aurei."
The voice didn't even sound like a shout, but it was certainly loud enough for anyone normal. The sea of heads across the plaza all turned towards the only figure it could have been. Dalton and the Interfector ended their conversation instantly and turned with the rest of the crowd to see who it was. Of course, it was the giant centurion somehow now towering even further above everyone else.
The announcer asked into the microphone, "Do I hear '81' aurei." but the question was just a statement. Everyone remained silent staring at the beast. The announcer audibly inhaled into the microphone and just before he could announce the sale on block 1, the beast thundered again;
"80 Aurei. All three."
Again, everyone remained silent. Nobody dared protest, but even the announcer wasn't sure what to do as he reached into his pocket for the script... Although, the announcer knew there was nothing in the Interfector's script about someone disrupting auction procedure like that. Especially from some "Person" like the giant. The announcer removed his hand from his pocket as he said;
"... This round was just for the slave on block... 1..."
Silence yet again. The silence was so deafening that the announcer decided to start cleaning the lens on his sunglasses he wasn't even wearing as the beast refused to say anything else. Not more than 20 seconds passed in the silence before the Elite stood up and waved at the announcer from across the plaza. Upon catching his eye, the Elite made a thumbs-up gesture, the announcer gave one in return, and hesitantly started into the microphone;
"... Sold... The Triplets of Tesuque... All three... Sold for 80 aurei to the?... Centurion in the mask. Please step off to the righthand side of the stage while..."
The monster began slowly marching through the crowd where he was told as the announcer began gesturing to the legionary staff to ready the next batch of beautiful slave women. For some reason that is unclear, the Triplets of Tesuque apparently forgot their conditioning because they had to be escorted off the platforms they danced to by a team of veterans. The three conditioned sex slaves clearly knew something that no other legionary in the crowd or the Circle Junction Praetor knew because they were escorted towards that golden monster crying and screaming the whole time. The last the Interfector or Aleron saw of them was the monster dragging all three towards the north gate of the Interior Fortress by their hair. All three held in the grip of one enormous hand.
Before too much of the triplets' fate could be observed, the noise of the crowd picked up again while the next set of gorgeous women stepped on stage. Dalton asked the Interfector about the high-tier slaves he had sectioned off, but the Elite remained mostly silent after mentioning they were up next. The auction went on and even though the Elite cast his bid for one of his prime women, it was clear that the incident with the giant had thrown him a bit off twice that afternoon. Aleron remained quiet, letting his Primus think as the show continued.
About 5 rounds after the monster walked off with his purchases, one of the Elite's personal runners approached the Interfector. The soldier begged pardon for the interruption and had a brief talk with the man while the noise of the crowd prevented Aleron's hearing. Just then, the Praetor leaned to Aleron and shouted over a roar from the crowd;
"Hear that, Aleron?"
Aleron asked, "Hear what, My Lord?"
Gesturing towards the explorer, the Elite said to Aleron over another spree of shouts from the masses, "Montano's mask is done and ready for pickup from the Utah Forge. Think you can swing by and grab it for me after the show?"
"Of course, Primus..." said Aleron before asking, "Shall I fetch a runner to deliver it as well?"
Through another crowd cheer for an exorbitantly high bid, the Interfector said, "Actually... Do you think you can deliver it personally? I'll pass on the instructions later, and definitely bring one of my explorers with you, but..." He waited for yet another cheer to die down before resuming, "... Dalton literally just got orders to head north, I was looking for a week or two to clear my head and deal with some personal matters in the meantime... That won't be an issue for you, will it?"
Aleron leaned back and lowered the cone he made with his hand to hear as he replied, "Of course I will, Lord. No issue whatsoever."
The Interfector leaned back as Dalton stood and walked off the platform again for unknown reasons. The Interfector gestured for the explorer to stand by and then glanced to Aleron, "Water under the bridge, huh Aleron?"
Aleron would have given assurance to his Primus if he'd heard what was said, but another cheer from the vile masses obstructed that as they welcomed the next group of sex slaves to the auction block. Instead, Aleron noticed the tragic grin on his Lord's face as he nodded at seeing the Elite's mood seemingly recovered, rather than at the words he missed.
A/N: Longest chapter yet! And will probably be the longest one in the story... Probably... Hope yall had a merry Christmas and have a happy New Year!