Aleron Pt II
Early 2281
As Aleron stood on the shores of Lake Mead, his eyes were fixed on that little dot sitting nearly in the center of it. He'd been told by scouts and raiding parties who returned from trips across the lake that the strange object is actually a series of shacks and rafts making up what could be considered a town. Why anyone would build a town in the center of the lake was beyond him or any legionary who saw it, but the whole thing was still interesting nonetheless... If "interesting" was the correct word. Eventually, Aleron pulled his binoculars up and tried to see the supposed aquatic town more clearly. No use, the place was still too hard to detail through the heat haze. He considered drafting a request to establish a Legion observation post on that flotilla, but then remembered that other detail the scouts and returning raiders reported. It was again too far for Aleron to see, but he could easily believe it when he heard the boat town was infested by those "Lakelurk" monsters who probably killed the inhabitants before they could get their unique little settlement up and running.
This led Aleron to the thought of lakelurks themselves and how much of a minor nuisance they'd been since the establishment of Fortification Hill. Particularly a burden for the soldiers inhabiting the main encampment around the lake, they still weren't too big a threat when it came down to it. Aleron thought about those creatures even more, and how those humanoid-looking amphibious monsters were truly quite terrifying. No Legionary to arrive at Fortification Hill had seen creatures quite like them, even those who'd seen the bizarre and monstrous wildlife across the Colorado wilderness. Aleron himself preferred the deathclaws, Gila beasts, and giant sand scorpions across Arizona and New Mexico to the rather ugly appearance of these Mojave lakelurks. Luckily however, lakelurks tended to steer clear of the lakeside encampment, probably due to an aversion to people in such high concentrations. Aleron supposed that the only upside to those repulsive creatures was that their meat wasn't all that bad and was actually quite good. The regular lakelurk that washed up dead on the shores of the encampment made for some excellent sustenance, with each one offering enough meat for at least two contubernia of legionaries.
He thought a bit more about those creatures and the bizarre stories he'd heard from soldiers crossing the lake who spoke of the occasional run-in with them. Lakelurks weren't normally encountered by legionaries in their boats directly as it's been shown that lakelurks were usually most deadly on the shorelines. Aleron had heard that lakelurks were terrifying if they were close enough to start shredding whoever approached their grounds, but the strangest thing came from the odd account from a legionary who survived a "sonic blast" from those creatures. Although there wasn't a servant of Caesar alive who knew what a "sonic blast" truly was or meant, the occurrence was made known by Mojave locals and captures, and the words seemed an adequate explanation as any for those who survived the lakelurk's ranged attack. Legionaries who survived a lakelurk's sonic attack speak of an enormous screeching sound immediately followed by an intense ringing in the ears, a severe concussion that lasts several days, and sometimes even temporary psychosis. Those who didn't survive were said to simply drop dead as if the soldier had the life sucked out of him... Aleron concluded many times over the weeks and months on the Front that he disliked lakelurks and was thankful that they largely steered clear of the encampment beneath Fortification Hill. Still, though, his mind went back to their use to the Legion as he remembered the countless times he saw a patrol from an isolated watchpost carting one of their giant slippery corpses to the fire pits and butcher stations across the encampment. Aleron had a particular disgust for the creatures he would never openly admit, but he still had to admit to himself that the meat from those amphibious abominations was good.
At thought of lakelurk meat, Aleron found himself thinking again about the camp's food stores and almost immediately shrugged the thought out of his mind. This wasn't due to any issues with supply, for that had been handled months ago by the independent trader arrangement, and a recent miracle where around 30 dead lakelurks washed up on the shores of the encampment. No, the food stores were fine, in fact, they were too fine. Aleron had almost no real issues to handle anymore, no real battles to prepare for, and idleness makes all soldiers of Caesar essentially morph into bubbling cauldrons of rage just waiting to be poured out on the proper Legion-approved target. Aleron considered how this building rage in the hearts of the legionaries across Fortification Hill was possibly intentional on the part of Caesar. Perhaps the battle for the Dam was finally coming, and Caesar wanted Aleron and all the others of the Fort's garrison as angry as possible beforehand. Upon considering that possibility, Aleron personally felt it was only a matter of hours before the second battle at the Dam would commence even though his heart told him it was still a long ways off.
Aleron again shrugged the thoughts out of his head and instead raised his eyes from the dot in the center of the Lake to the patch of greenery on the distant shore. Aleron heard that place on the northwest shore, just past Las Vegas Bay was a profligate installation called Camp Golf, and it had been a decent counter to Legion forces operating on the north end of the lake since Aleron first arrived on the front. However, it was currently the third month of 2281 and the northern operations were steadily declining as the terror forces in the south worked. The lack of action in the north and lake region had only decreased more and more since Caesar arrived in the final quarter of 2280.
As Aleron studied the distant NCR camp and considered what that reported "grass" looked like up close, Aleron raised his binoculars up with hopes of seeing something new. Just as expected, Aleron could not make out just about anything beyond the heat haze save for the blurry outline of the camp's main headquarters in a derelict resort. Unable to make out any enemy positions, patrols, or incoming traffic, Aleron lowered his binoculars in defeat. He was still waiting on something he thought would be potentially exciting, but even the best news to come from the pending task seemed to do little for Aleron's spirits still battling the idleness. So, in an effort to kill even more time and not think about the memories he loathed considering, Aleron walked along the shores of the lakeside encampment observing his surroundings for the ten-thousandth time.
The centurion walked on just as a raiding party pulled up to the shore before him. The legionaries at the bow leaped out and dragged their vessels a few feet further inland before the crews hastily got out carting their injured brothers and whipping the new captive profligates to stand up, only briefly stopping to salute Aleron and offer their hails before continuing on. Aleron looked back at the sprawling camp, seeing the endless turning of grindstones, the shore patrols, the slaves bringing goods down to the camp, those centurions leading sparring exercises, and those legionaries roasting giant lakelurk corpses over the shoreside fire pits. None of it was anything new to Aleron, this was what Aleron saw every day since Caesar's arrival, and though the sight of so many legionaries ready for the fall of Hoover Dam was inspiring at first, it had already lost its touch after so much inaction. Before Aleron sought to consider all that was really on his mind, he distracted himself again by turning to the head of this incoming raid party.
The boat raiders were busy escorting the captured profligates off the boats, their feet splashing in the shallow water before the veteran decanus in charge of this group felt Aleron's eyes on the back of his helmet. Turning to the centurion, the decanus said, "Ave, Centurion. True to Caesar."
Aleron hailed right back and asked the officer, "... What was your objective and the result of this raid, Decanus?"
"My centurion, I have returned successfully from a raiding objective on the north end of this lake under orders to capture some profligates based out of the refugee camp known locally as 'Bitter Springs'..."
Aleron was well familiar with the NCR-led refugee camp in the north from his days in charge of Fortification Hill, back when he was far more informed on matters of the Mojave. However, he'd never heard from anyone who'd been there on a combat directive. Back before Caesar arrived, Aleron was in too high a position to regularly hear from lowly raid commanders... Not anymore though. Aleron had lost a lot of responsibilities since the Emperor showed up. This memory and all the disappointment it entailed prompted Aleron to ask the decanus simply;
"How was that? Encounter much opposition?"
Aleron thought about the injured legionaries who were the first ones carted off the boats and thought he counted four. The injured were already half way to the nearest healing enclosures in the camp proper and Aleron's interest in the raiding commander was satisfied as the decanus explained, "The state of defense in the camp itself is pathetic. The profligates in that garrison almost grant us permission to take who we please."
"That so?" asked Aleron plainly, thinking once again about the injured.
"Yes of course, my Centurion. The camp remains an excellent source of easily obtained captures... That's not to say the profligate soldiers nearby are-"
The decanus and Aleron were both interrupted by the nearby struggle. As the captured refugees filed off the long boat in chains, one of the captures separate from the others was putting up a loud struggle. This noteworthy capture was not dressed like one of the dirt-covered refugees, this one was wearing tan khaki pants, a light collared shirt, and an empty leg holster with the standout being the little bear insignias on her collars. Aleron and the veteran decanus silently watched the profligate captive struggle wildly in the grip of two veterans and a recruit. How it was possible for three soldiers of Caesar to struggle with their grip on a woman almost made Aleron reprimand the legionaries involved right there until the profligate female soldier managed to throw the recruit behind her over her back. Before the veterans could whip out their guns and execute the woman, she stomped on the head of the recruit and set her arms down with the words, "Now I'll comply" carried calmly in the wind straight to Aleron's ears.
From there, the woman calmly stepped off the boat and onto the shore as the veterans pressed their guns to her head and neck as she proceeded slowly towards the camp. Aleron just realized he let out an audible chuckle when the woman took down the recruit, but his face contorted back to its usual seriousness when he saw two nearby primes hop in the boat to remove the recruit's body. Aleron never learned if the recruit was knocked out after getting his head curb-stomped by the woman, or if he was killed. Either way, the woman stepped further inland, following distantly behind the other captures as Aleron turned to the decanus;
"You were saying something about profligate soldiers near the refugee camp?"
The decanus and Aleron continued to watch the woman shuffle closer as the veteran decanus replied, "The camp itself is an easy source of slaves, but the rangers at nearby stations remain a source of some bother-"
"Halt," said Aleron plainly with an extra hint of intrigue, "... Is that who the woman is? Did you and your force manage to capture a ranger?"
"A woman ranger, unfortunately, but a capable one at that..." Aleron let out a scoff in near disbelief as he studied the woman further. The decanus went and added, "... The last of my directive requires that I report in with my Centurion, Centurion Haterius... Might the centurion know where my commander is at this time? I am also to report to Centurion Aleron of the 101st as well to process the captures..."
"I cannot say where Centurion Haterius is, for I do not know, but I am Centurion Aleron. So you may leave the captures with my staff in the northwest quarter of the camp. You'll see my century's banner and someone will come along to handle your captures." said Aleron, only briefly disappointed that he was no longer recognized on sight by everyone at the Fort. Aleron figured this veteran must have been one of the soldiers under a commander that Caesar brought with his arrival.
Either way, the decanus said, "Excellent, I request your pardon for failing to recognize you, Centurion Aleron-"
"Not needed..." said Aleron flatly before gesturing for the decanus to carry on.
The raid officer barked at the head of the line of captures, "101st! Northwest Quarter!" A soldier at the head acknowledged from the distance and continued the captive train further into camp. Aleron finally met the look of that decanus and dismissed him with the order to carry on and find his centurion. The veteran departed, leaving Aleron alone on the shore, save for the veterans and the captive ranger who was being made to move very slowly.
Suddenly, Aleron turned around, saw the ranger still inching towards the camp proper between two guns, and shouted, "Ranger!"
The party stopped, and the veterans turned their prisoner around and walked toward Aleron who remained in place. When the ranger was halted before Aleron, he studied her fair complexion, brown hair, brown eyes, and unwavering countenance for a long moment, watching the muscles in her face twist ever so subtly to bring something to the surface. Aleron knew the first question he asked of the ranger would be met by a spit in his eye. Seeing this, Aleron smiled and stated to her;
"I saw your defiance... Such remarkable skill I must admit..."
The ranger was ready to do what Aleron anticipated at any moment. She was waiting so meticulously for the cue to spit in this centurion's eye that she didn't even perceive it when Aleron removed his 10mm from its holster.
Still capturing her whole attention with his eyes alone, Aleron said very cooly, "Think that attitude will last the week, Ranger?-" immediately, he fired a shot into the ranger's foot making her let out a tremendous cry in pain. The spit she readied for Centurion Aleron poured down her mouth and onto the sands with the release of that cry. She struggled even more in the grip of those veterans but the pain in her foot was too much. The ranger collapsed but was held upright by the veterans, and Aleron gave the motion for them to carry on as he said, "Once this profligate is secured, go fetch Siri, that healer slave atop the hill. Have her see to the ranger."
The veterans acknowledged the command while turning their prisoner around to carry on. The ranger continued to fight back sobs of agonizing pain, the ability to remain tough disappearing in an instant with the unexpected bullet shattering her right foot. Aleron watched the bloody footsteps trail further towards the camp until he finally turned back to the lake, knowing the new head of the slave healers would fix her up well enough to begin life as a slave already with the knowledge of what her masters were capable of inflicting.
Later that Day
"... So, the tunnels lead straight into Hoover Dam for sure?" asked Centurion Aleron.
Instantly, the head of his explorer team said, "Yes, My Centurion... We believe so. The tunnels we followed appeared to align perfectly with the blueprints of the dam you permitted us to view. Unfortunately, our further exploration was prevented by what appeared to be a partial collapse about a half-mile into the intake system..."
The explorer was left at that, his attention turning to Aleron who was searching for something on his command desk. Aleron shifted the stacks of documents and folders around for a moment until he found what he was looking for. Aleron removed the blueprint of the dam he'd been entrusted to possess and spread it out before the explorer;
"Approximately where was the collapsed section?" asked Aleron.
The explorer studied the blueprint for a moment, tracing the route he followed from the excavated Arizona side intake pipe down to about where he and the other explorers encountered the obstruction. Finally, the explorer answered;
"I believe it was about right here, My Centurion... We had just passed the section marked 86A when we came upon the obstruction."
"Alright..." said Aleron as he sat back and thought for a moment. His eyes eventually drifted to Gabriella who sat on her cot waiting for an order. Finally, Aleron looked back at the explorer and asked, "... did you encounter anything else in the pipe system? Perhaps any unlabeled doors bearing the emblem of the Lucky 38?"
"That's a negative, Centurion Aleron. The pipe system appeared exactly as the schematics here show..." the explorer saw his centurion stuck in thought. Aleron glanced up at the scout and wordlessly permitted him to speak what was on his mind. The scout added,
"... Am I safe to assume that my centurion is looking for an alternate means of access to the subterranean facility beneath Fortification Hill?..."
Aleron let loose a long sigh, "That was the secondary hope of this intake system exploration..." He paused in thought for a second before saying to the room itself, "... Still though, confirming the intake tunnels' access into the Dam's heart is most excellent to hear, minus the obstruction..."
As glad as Aleron was to hear the tunnel expedition did in fact provide a backdoor into the Dam, Aleron was still slightly more focused on the lack of an alternate means into the weather station's secret mystery facility. Aleron vented to himself, "... Lord Caesar attempted all the means of opening the weather station's interior door I did, yet still nothing. I was also finally permitted last week to attempt its opening by placing an aeurus in the circular slot on the terminal system but even that achieved nothing!..."
The explorer remained silent, unable to add anything to his commander's frustrations. Aleron knew this, and so the immediate silence ended when Aleron had collected himself enough. Aleron finally ended this check-in with his personal scouts by saying;
"... In any regard, you've done as I require. I want you and your party to return to those tunnels, get one last sweep, and draft up a report. Make an assessment of the blockage and get me an estimate on the number of slaves you think will be required to clear that obstruction... I'll hand your report to Lucius in my next meeting with him and we'll proceed from there."
"Of course, Centurion Aleron. Right away." said the explorer as he turned to exit the enclosure.
"Wait," said Aleron flatly, making the explorer halt and about-face.
Aleron tossed the explorer a small sack of Legion coins. As the sack landed in the explorer's hands, Aleron said, "For your work in the tunnels. Distribute the currency between yourself and your team..."
The explorer was left slightly bewildered at being Paid for executing the orders of his centurion. This made the explorer answer astutely, "Compensation for such a task is by no means required, My Centurion..."
"I know," said Aleron to his desk, more focused on the papers he was reading than the explorer's continuing presence. The explorer lingered in place for a moment, believing there was perhaps an additional directive until Aleron finally gestured for the soldier to "shoo" as he continued reading the papers in front.
The explorer departed and Aleron continued to read and compile his current intel documents on the tunnel assignment. He did not know exactly when the next meeting with Lucius the Head Praetorian would be, but the updated intel was already compiled and ready for relay less than two minutes after the explorer departed. Now it was just waiting on the final notes to come from the explorer's second sweep through.
Aleron sat at his desk with plenty to do for all that clutter on his desk, but none of that seemed to matter. As much as Aleron had to do, matters of Fortification Hill were operating as smoothly as ever. The Fort was operating at this time like more of a city than anything. It was plenty populated, there were a lot of people moving to and fro, a lot of people doing a lot of different things, but they weren't going anywhere. This dreaded feeling of idleness sank even deeper into Aleron once more.
Before Aleron could get too lost in his idle thoughts, he felt the eyes of Gabriella on the side of his head but was temporarily more focused on the broader situation he was dealing with. The question crossed Aleron's mind once more, the question that had become more and more frequent in his mind since Caesar's arrival: "Why are we still sitting here?"
Aleron, as well as the other centurions of the Fort were under the impression that Caesar's arrival meant the nearly immediate assault on Hoover Dam. That ended up not being the case. Despite all the work Aleron had done for the front, all the intel he received, relayed, and acted upon, all of that put the Legion in a place that would ensure victory at the Dam the second that Caesar arrived. However, the waiting only continued, even with Caesar's arrival at the top of Fortification Hill. The only thing that really changed for Aleron was his position and that rapidly diminishing amount of responsibilities.
Aleron was no longer the direct relay between the frumantarii and Lord Caesar, and that meant that Aleron had finally returned to the days and position of just another battlefield centurion. Yes, Aleron went from acting commander of the entire front and defender of Arizona down to head administrator of Fortification Hill. As illustrious as the title may sound for a commander of the Legion's headquarters on this most concentrated front, it was actually one that left him with almost nothing to do. Aleron saw to the slaves and captures of incoming raid groups, he oversaw the armories and food stores, he was the point of contact with supply runners or independent merchants, and he was occasionally given the odd task like investigating the recently excavated tunnels. Although, even the odd task was not as exciting since Aleron again was not nearly as informed about matters of the front as he was only a few months prior. Aleron was able to make guesses about the reason for these tasks, like, Aleron assumed that the tunnels into the Dam were a possible strategy for gutting the Dam inside out. Although Aleron couldn't quite fathom why they would need the tunnels when the forces occupying Fortification Hill were nearly doubled what was used at the Dam the first time. All the while, the terror forces of the south dispersed NCR forces all across the Mojave without even mentioning the Legion's allies in the region who'd been performing their own roles excellently... No, there was something else. There was something else to Caesar's strategy in this campaign that Aleron was unfortunately too low on the ladder now to know. Even with progress going at the rate it was in the south, the Legion was already in the place to seize the Vegas region at any moment. Although Aleron didn't know what they were for sure, Caesar still had several operations in the works that just required more time, and Aleron could only carry on and wait even more for that coming day when they'd march west across the Dam.
In the meantime, Aleron was busy leading the operations of Fortification Hill from his lowly little command tent in the midst of the lakeside encampment. Aleron tried once more to take some pride in his official position, but then reminded himself how his current title really just meant that he had to carry out all the operations and oversee the matters that the Emperor simply couldn't be bothered with. One of the big things that ate away at Aleron was the fact that he didn't even get to report to the Emperor himself. Despite all he'd done in the early days of the front and despite him being in charge of operations for the fortress that the Emperor was currently occupying, Aleron still was not permitted to see or report to Lord Caesar. Aleron's position had him only reporting to the Praetorian Lucius who he knew and admired. Although reporting to Lucius wasn't a bad thing, given Aleron's familiarity with the man, the idea of still not being able to even meet the Emperor once again made Aleron feel as though everything he'd done on this front was done without recognition or even notice. Before Aleron could begin considering why the idea of recognition or reporting to Caesar mattered to him at all when it hadn't in decades prior, he again shook the thought out of his head. Finally, in an effort to distract himself, Aleron turned to the source of that burning feeling on the side of his head.
Aleron met the eyes of Gabriella who instinctively lowered them in an instant. Aleron studied her face, briefly considering how well she's been aging. "A year or two past 40 and still, Gabriella appears to remain a prime subject of breeding," Aleron thought as he again put off the idea of having her rear his child. This Too was a thought Aleron preferred not to think about, for it was something he concluded years ago would happen after the taking of Vegas. Finally, Aleron acted on the effort to distract himself, saying to her, "Something on your mind, Gabriella?"
Aleron already knew what was on her mind, and that was "concern", concern for himself. He just wanted to hear her admit it. As Aleron expected, Gabriella met the eyes of Aleron and began expressing her concern for him, how he's appeared unusually discontent as of late, how he's been even less able to sleep, et cetera. Aleron heard the gist of what she was saying, but hearing her speak naturally made his mind go elsewhere. Eventually, Aleron realized her words were by no means the distraction he wanted. Just as he realized this, the Legion came to Aleron's rescue when his century's vexillarius stepped into the tent.
Gabriella cut what she was saying short and the standard bearer gave his hail before saying, "My Centurion, I have been instructed to relay a message to you about an urgent matter."
"What is it?" Aleron asked, taking the tone of his vexillarius to mean the assault on the Dam was about to occur.
Aleron was disappointed when the soldier simply explained, "... The primary gate sentries require your say on a particular matter regarding the trader, Dale Barton..."
Aleron let out another frustrated sigh and then thanked the soldier before dismissing him. The centurion stood himself up, glanced at Gabriella, and said, "You may continue expressing your concerns when I return."
Then, he departed.
30 Minutes Later
"... Why on earth would you consider this broken piece of ancient trash to be a 'gift' to Lord Caesar?" asked Aleron cooly, his inner rage only appearing in a whisper behind the words.
The trader stammered, "Its?- It's just missing the firing mechanism... Should be a simple enough fix if you find the part."
"And it didn't occur to you to perhaps find a replacement firing mechanism while you were at the source of this howitzer?" questioned Aleron as he took another look at the giant old-world artillery piece sitting surrounded by over a dozen servants of Caesar on standby.
The trader answered, "I gotta admit that I'm not sure what a firing mechanism for one of these cannons looks like..."
"AND YOU THINK MY EXPLORERS WILL HAVE A BETTER IDEA!?..." Aleron accidentally said out loud. A momentary silence ensued after that, the slaves and soldiers around the howitzer turned and the trader stood in paralysis. Aleron took one deep inhale and smiled insidiously at the trader, completely collected;
"... Dale. I'm sure you understand that my soldiers and scouts, who I'm sure you know come from all kinds of savage backgrounds, who use blades to kill, who still occasionally struggle with the English language due to their tribal backgrounds will have even more difficulty salvaging a replacement firing mechanism than you or your scavers will... So before I dispatch my runners all the way to Yuma searching for a mechanical instrument they will not ever be able to identify, I'll ask you very kindly to go and fetch it yourself..."
Dale remained sweating before the terrifying centurion. Finally, when Dale understood that Aleron was done speaking, he said to the centurion, "... Sure. I'd be happy to return with one. Could be a while before I'm down in Yuma again, but I'll definitely add one to my list..."
Aleron briefly considered shooting Dale in the head right there, but he didn't want to have to explain to Lucius why he killed one of the more reliable independent traders in Arizona. Although Aleron wouldn't be punished too severely for such a thing, the idea of being lectured by the head Praetorian and the possible movement to an even lower station prevented the realization of that idea. Instead, Aleron swallowed his rage, patted the man roughly on the shoulder, and said in a murderously calm way, "... See that you do, Dale Barton."
Dale was still stunned for a moment as Aleron's head turned back to the artillery piece. Aleron heard the trader finally collect himself enough to say, "Sorry about the mix up, Centurion Aleron. I know I should have done a bit more searching while I was down there. Must've slipped my mind..." Aleron barely heard the trader's apology, for he was still an expert at hearing only words that were actually important. This is why he heard it when Dale said, "... Just heard about Caesar's arrival at the Fort and wanted to get him something that might help yall win here at the Dam."
Still studying the howitzer, Aleron said to Dale, "This 'gift' of yours is not something that will help us. If anything, you have given us a new burden. Not to mention that you STILL asked for compensation..." Turning to meet the trader's eyes, Aleron said, "Not only is the relic broken, but even if it were functional, we have no means of training any special contubernium on the operation, loading, or firing of this weapon-"
"Actually, I did get this for you..." Aleron was about to pummel Dale for interrupting him, but was more curious to see what Dale was fetching. Dale removed his hand from a leather bag on one of his brahmin and placed a dirt-spattered manual for the howitzer in Aleron's hand. When Aleron read the cannon's model and the "US ARMY" heading at the top of the pamphlet, Dale added, "... The book should have everything you need to know about operating the thing... Perhaps even a picture of its parts too. Haven't really had a chance to flip through it on the road."
Aleron's eyes drifted to the nearby cart that had two crates marked 155mm and asked Dale, only slightly less infuriated, "How much ammunition have you brought for the relic?"
"Should be about 10 or so? I think one of the crates only has four shells instead of five..." said the trader as Aleron took this in.
"So there will be no ability to zero in the sights, assess trajectory, test fire, et cetera." Stated Aleron, making Dale feel as though his gift to Caesar was even more of a burden than it already was.
Dale finally offered, "Follow the manual right and you won't have to fire any test shells if I reckon correctly..."
Aleron let the trader's words hang and finally looked one more time at the howitzer and all those slaves and soldiers idly waiting for the order to proceed. Just then, Aleron saw his staff's senior enter his peripherals and heard Decanus Soranus say, "Centurion Aleron, Lucius has authorized the placement of the gun atop the interior section cliffs. He also agreed to authorize the requested payment for the gun."
Aleron turned to his senior and replied, "Fine..." as he motioned for Soranus to stand by for a moment.
At last, Aleron met the eyes of Dale once more, still feeling as though the trader's gift was the most unworthy gift the Legion ever received. Not only this, the trader's request to be Paid for the nearly useless "gift" almost made Aleron disembowel Dale right there when he heard the request for payment had been authorized. And so, Aleron looked straight into Dale's eyes and placed a small bag full of gold coins in his hands as he said, "... Now, take your payment and get out of my sight before I stuff you in the barrel of this heavy piece of useless trash..."
Turning to Soranus, Aleron heard Dale pocket the sack of gold as he shouted, "Soranus! Escort the slaves to the gun position and use those recruits if needed. Send someone to fetch me if you require more hands."
Soranus was already seeing to the howitzer's movement up the hill when Aleron had departed at last. Dale had disappeared into the ether just as Aleron ordered, passing by the trader's caravan on his way to the gates back down the hill to the lakeside encampment.
This was Aleron's life since Caesar's arrival. A whole lot of planning, a whole lot of new soldiers, and more than a few frustrations as Caesar's plans for the Mojave continued to expand in new and unexpected ways.
Around Two Weeks Later. Late March 2281
Aleron's life went on in that idle and frustrating way for a short while longer before one particular day near the start of April 2281.
As usual, it was the late morning on a cloudy day and Aleron was making his rounds when his path around the lakeside encampment finally landed him at the shoreline once again. As Aleron heard the distant action of the sprawling camp behind him, he looked out over the lake as he'd done countless other days in the monotony. Aleron had his staff and contubernium officers running sparring and training exercises in the camp's designated training section which he knew would keep them occupied for the better part of the day. Still, Aleron knew he was trained and able enough to avoid partaking in the training session and decided to use this time for idle thinking as he looked out at the lake. It wasn't long after taking his place on the shore that his solitude was ended by a presence behind him that identified itself.
"Ave, Centurion Aleron, True to Caesar."
Aleron thought he recognized the voice and turned slightly around to verify. It was who he assumed, but the reason for the approach was unknown to him as the head of the frumantarii stepped up. As Vulpes Inculta placed himself beside the centurion, the two shared the view of the lake as Aleron calmly greeted the man back, somewhat thankful for the unexpected approach.
After greeting, the ensuing silence was only a brief one before Aleron asked, "What is your cause for approach, frumantarius?"
Aleron knew what the spy would say, and knowing that wasn't a true comfort. The spy merely said, "I just happened to be getting ready for departure again after a short time in New Vegas when I saw you here and thought I'd offer my presence..."
Aleron had the occasional run-in with the spies who used to report to him since Caesar's arrival, but each run-in though cordial, left Aleron feeling slightly mocked. No longer was Aleron authorized to hear official intel on matters pertaining to the spies, but the spies regularly offered Aleron at least some lesser-known news whenever he happened across one of these frumantarii agents in the Fortification Hill grounds. Aleron knew these instances of irrelevant disclosures were seen as a form of pity that the frumantarii held for Aleron in his new menial role.
As much as Aleron didn't care for the pitiful nature of his recent interactions with the frumantarii, he still accepted it whenever it happened even if it was only to combat the idleness.
The centurion finally managed to offer the spy, "Your presence is tolerated for the moment, frumantarius..."
The two narrowed their eyes as familiar grins passed on both of their faces in the following silence. Eventually, Aleron added, "Where you headed now? Back to Vegas or elsewhere?... Provided I'm authorized to hear the vaguest nature of your current directives."
The fox's grin went a bit wider before disappearing again, "Just finished up the final details of a new alliance in the Vegas region. Now I'm headed south to look into a few matters pertaining to the Terror forces."
Still focused on the darkened lake beneath the overcast sky, Aleron asked plainly, "Are these new allies on the Strip, Freeside, or Westside?... Or perhaps final touches on the Khans' alliance. As you'll recall, I was more than informed about the Khans situation not long ago..."
The winds blew softly around them, the silence telling Aleron what he was expecting Vulpes to say, "... Apologies, centurion... and I'm afraid I cannot offer you anything pertaining to my completed directives in the Vegas regional limits, or my coming tasks in the south..."
Aleron only let out a simple "hmm" before the frumantarius glanced at Aleron and added, "The idleness of this waiting period is clearly getting the better of you, Centurion Aleron... Might I suggest seeking permission to join the fight proper by way of Nelson?"
Aleron had heard the news of a new outpost at Nelson a bit less than two months earlier, in fact, he personally approved the request to raise the commander in charge over there to veteran. Why a prime decanus named "Dead Sea" was put in charge of the fall of Nelson was unknown to Aleron, but the record of the incident spoke for itself and Aleron no longer questioned the strange operating procedures of the Terror forces down south. Either way, Aleron saw what the southern front was looking like since the fall of Nelson firsthand and the idea had crossed his mind before. Ever since Nelson fell to the Legion, several of the centuries in reserve at Fortification Hill had been slowly moving south to pass through Nelson before storming the NCR's new frontline at a place called Forlorn Hope. No, Aleron was still hoping the day would come that he'd be given a more important assignment here at the Fort. Although the idea of moving south was looking better by the day, Aleron still felt he could put off a suicidal charge on NCR's new "Forlorn Hope" for a bit longer.
Aleron finally answered the spy's suggestion, "... Perhaps later, my forces are currently busy helping to set up the new staging grounds when they aren't drilling."
Vulpes nodded his head in remembrance, "Ah, the new encampment and future position of our coming Legate... I must tell you that the current layout and fortification is excellent and I'm sure The Butcher of the East will be very pleased when he finally arrives on the front..."
Aleron felt somewhat proud at being recognized for the new bastion below the Fort's west end, having been one of the designers of its layout. Although Aleron was also left wondering what Vulpes was going to add. The Fox went on, "... I'd still consider seeking action in the south once the staging grounds are properly set up if I were you. Centurion Montano has been excellently leading the pressure on Forlorn Hope since he took Nelson two months back... "
Aleron kept his composure but the mention of Montano left him slightly frozen in contemplation as the spy concluded, "... The war in the south could present you with the perfect opportunity to show your old rival how to pull a victory from an unfavorable circumstance like you did at Bullhead City."
The centurion took all this in and didn't know what to make of what he was hearing from the spy. After a moment, Aleron only said, "I thought that Decanus 'Dead Sea' led the fall of Nelson?"
Vulpes replied just as cooly, "Dead Sea was only placed in charge of the fall, Montano is his centurion, and Montano has been leading the occupation of Nelson while launching raids through the new access the town now permits..."
Aleron thought how he now more than ever didn't want to go south if there was any chance he'd be under Montano's command. Even if Montano was only just Aleron's temporary or "acting commander" as he and his force were in waiting for the next assault on Forlorn Hope, the idea threw that notion out entirely.
Vulpes picked up on this attitude of Aleron and knew the proposition was something that might have to wait before offering it again. So, Vulpes concluded, "... But alas, that is neither here nor there. All I understand is that my current directives in the south will put me in a more western area of operation as I am currently ignorant about the particulars our forces on the southern front are enduring."
When Vulpes was done, Aleron didn't have much more to say and only replied, "Go with Mars, frumantarius."
The spy rested a firm hand on Aleron's pauldron for a moment before it left, taking the frumantarius with it as he departed the shoreline. Aleron was still deeply thinking about Montano and all he'd been up to in the south. He wondered if Montano had been on the south end of the front since the Terror started, or if he was a new arrival that came at some unknown point. Had Montano really been on the same front as Aleron for so long and he was just now hearing about it?
All these thoughts continued to plague Aleron and he found himself thinking more about the rival who bested him than he had his whole time on the Mojave Front.
That very same day, Aleron found himself in the audience of legionaries and officers surrounding the arena cage. The sun had set below the mountains, the sky was dark, and the light of torches illuminated the fortress overlooking the Dam. War drum continued to beat and Aleron saw the fire pit just above the arena giving off its faint glow to the soldiers on the little ridge above. Even the dogs of Antony the Master of Hounds were seemingly upset by the fight below as the sound of training drums and officers barking orders were buried by the anger around the arena. Between the death threats from the attending officers and the shouts from other rage-filled legionaries, the victor inside the arena cage appeared to have pissed himself as he stood with wobbling legs in the center of the ring. The victorious slave inside knew himself that he was only victorious because the four other skilled fighters managed to kill one another before they could turn to the cowering weakling. Still, the coward was the only one left standing in the arena after such a bloody fight, and the rules were the rules. Aleron turned to the arena master, a man called "Otho" and asked him beneath the savage shouts around the cage;
"Should such a creature really be granted his freedom for a display of cowardice like that?"
Otho turned to centurion Aleron and replied cooly, "Mars forbid, Centurion Aleron. But I believe I orchestrated this fight around a chance to serve rather than freedom."
The response immediately made Aleron let out an amused scoff, "That thing? Becoming a legionary?..."
The man in the arena cowered even further into the wall until the shouts behind and the prick of a blade at his back made him jolt again towards the center. Otho replied to Aleron, "My centurion forgets the abilities of our instructors in the camps..." Aleron contemplated this begrudgingly until Otho added, "... Care to take the lead on this coward's breaking?"
Aleron nodded at the arena master and grinned. A moment later, the gates creaked open and Aleron whistled for his staff decani to remove the coward from the arena. Just as angry as the audience, Aleron's staff gave the "victor" no mercy apart from his survival as the man was pummeled and dragged out of the arena. Aleron ordered his staff where to have that future legionary sent as Otho calmed the crowd by his announcement of victory. The crowd was calmed enough by learning what was in store for the coward when he reached the camps and Otho announced the next fight.
Aleron missed the opening to the next fight due to being occupied by matters of his staff, but he knew who was next as he returned to the arena cage and watched the Ranger woman get thrown inside. Aleron had been excited to see this fight since he first shot her foot two weeks prior. Since recovering from her injury only a few days ago, Aleron watched her kill two other legionaries in a single arena fight. Although he personally considered challenging the ranger slave himself, Aleron ironically didn't deem one on one combat to be his style... At least one on one combat with a slave anyway. So, the ranger slave remained an object of odd fascination and bitter hatred to Aleron as well as the other legionaries or officers occupying the Fort. This night was only different in that Aleron had heard of who was challenging the ranger now, for it had been a long time since he heard the name coming to end the ranger.
Otho the arena master shouted for the crowd as a plumed helmet and muscular beast entered the arena. Aleron couldn't see the centurion's face due to the mask he wore. However, the steel mask on the challenger's face was one that Aleron recognized; he thought he saw the steel mask of a centurion of the Flagstaff Palatii in the torchlight. Centurion Aleron thought this was interesting but the uniqueness of the challenger would soon be realized as the arena master began the introduction;
"Soldiers of Caesar! You may have seen this 'woman' eliminate two legionary recruits, but be prepared to watch this profligate slave's destruction in the face of a true servant of Caesar!..."
Aleron remained calm, watching the centurion challenger remove his long ornate blade which served as another indication of this centurion's position in the Flagstaff Palace Guard. More of the attending legionaries and officers banged on the arena cage and shouted what they wanted to do to the ranger slave as the slave herself did nothing other than toss her given blade onto the arena floor. The slave's gesture only created another uproar in shouts about the stupidity of profligate arrogance while the continuation of the challenger's introduction was about to smack Aleron in the face with a blast from the past;
"... This centurion of Caesar's Elite Guard, a commander of ten other Elite Centurions of the 1st Cohort, has fought for our Emperor since the Fall of Sedona, to the destruction of the Civilized Valley! He led our forces in southern Arizona to end the Ajoans, the Hidebarks, the Devil Dogs, and his victories painted the plains of New Mexico red with blood before he personally decorated the wilderness of Colorado with the severed heads of countless savages before rising to Elite. Presently in charge of a detachment of the Palatii Guard, this esteemed commander chose to use his respite giving you soldiers on the Mojave Front yet another example of Legion Victory... Soldiers of Caesar! I give you, Elite Centurion Praefectus Praetorii Gula!"
Aleron could scarcely believe it. He hadn't seen or heard about his old senior of Centurion Therecos' staff since a passing report he read back in 2271 while he was with the Interfector in Circle Junction. It appeared that Gula had finally departed his inherited role as commander of the 6th century sometime in the Meatgrinder Campaign and finally went to the place that all Centurions who served so long went. Aleron felt proud that Gula finally became a proud member of Elite "1st Cohort" and was in charge of a contingent of other Elite Centurions in the Palace Guard.
Aleron began wondering when he himself was going to be granted an Elite title, but the thought made him think about how lacking his battlefield record had been since becoming a Centurion under the Interfector's tutelage. Sure, his record as a Centurion saw to the end of the Twin Mothers, the Fall of Denver, then the victory at Arizona Spillway, and then that incredible triumph at Bullhead City, but Aleron knew his record was still essentially nothing compared to the one held by That guy... Centurion Montano. Aleron was momentarily upset by the idea of his rival becoming an Elite first despite Aleron being a Centurion for longer. Aleron really wished that Vulpes hadn't brought up Montano's name in the first place and tried very hard not to think about all the battles his rival had been in as of late since apparently taking Nelson. Centurion Aleron then shook the thought away and focused on the duelists in the arena. This seemed to work for him as he thought back to that one fight all those years ago between the then "Decanus Gula" and the warrior slave in the pen. Aleron grinned at the memory of how quickly Gula ended that giant Ajoan warrior, and more importantly, what he did to the corpse.
Just as Otho shouted "Begin!" Aleron was thinking about how much of a morale boost it would be to witness Gula slaughter and consume the defiant ranger slave. Most of the legionaries and officers in the attending audience had not been around for the earlier days of the Legion. Most of these soldiers at the Fort and those attending this fight may have seen the latter days of the New Mexico campaign at most, with some perhaps surviving the Meat Grinder, while the rest were likely soldiers fresh from the auxilia campaigns or recent township assimilations. It was then that Aleron realized that he, Gula, and even Montano were some of the last surviving servants of Caesar who got to watch the Legion's rise, and the thought made Aleron experience a somewhat tragic feeling as he considered himself to be one of the last of a dying breed.
As sad as this idea was to Aleron, he saw the masked faces and dangerous eyes of all the legionaries around him in the firelight and saw their inherited viciousness. As old as centurions like Aleron were, the system that Lord Caesar created and fine-tuned over the years pumped out the same kinds of savagely loyal and barbaric soldiers of ruthless civilization that Aleron had seen come and go over so many years. With the start of the arena combat and feeling the familiar atmosphere of a Legion mob ready for battle, Aleron was left only with one thought, "If only we could show this fight to the profligate soldiers atop the Dam, this evening would have been perfect,"
Aleron continued to think about this as Gula let loose the first flurry of savage swings.
The fight between Gula and the slave certainly wasn't as rapid as that notable one Aleron remembered so well. Not only did Gula not plant the blade in this slave's skull within the first six seconds, but Aleron briefly noticed that "Elite Centurion Gula" wasn't quite as "spry" as he was two decades prior. Just as Aleron thought this, he saw the ranger slave duck under another swing before Aleron's attention was turned to the voice behind him. Like a reflex, Aleron turned instantly from the fight to the sight of his Staff's senior standing behind him. Veteran Decanus Soranus said to his commander beneath the shouts of the crowd;
"Centurion Aleron, your presence is required at your command domicile immediately..."
Aleron was about to tell the man just to take acting command of whatever the situation was, but the eyes of Decanus Soranus said something else, something important that not even Soranus really knew the significance of. Aleron saw this and felt an unusual sensation wash over himself before he left it at that. Centurion Aleron didn't even need to inquire about the situation further after receiving that feeling, so he just wordlessly nodded at his staff's senior and the two departed. Leaving the shouts of the arena attendees in the distance, Aleron and Decanus Soranus headed through the gates of the interior Fortress, down the hill, and down even further to the bustling lakeside encampment as they approached his command domicile.
A few minutes later, Aleron opened the flap to his tent and found a man in horrendously bloody rags and a completely broken state kneeling in chains between two veterans in the center of the tent. Aleron approached the chained man slightly confused before noticing Gabriella in the corner darting her gaze in equal confusion between the prisoner and her master. Before Decanus Soranus could offer the introduction and before any of the veterans gave their salutes or hails, one of the veterans showed that this meeting was of the utmost importance when he spoke straight to the point;
"Centurion Aleron. By order of Centurion Roboro, we're here to leave the fate of this recovered deserter, Veteran Decanus Falco to your charge..."
Aleron was left completely speechless and the prisoner raised his head at the commander he was kneeling before. At the same time, the ranger slave had brought Elite Centurion Gula to the ground and twisted his neck in one swift motion, ending the fight.