POV of Malpais
The months flew by after the purification of New Canaan, but what truly accelerated time was the campaign against the Eighties. Those highway raiders were a constant thorn in my northern advance. And now, by direct order, I was to wipe them out completely. Mercy was not requested. Efficiency was.
They turned out to be ideal targets for testing all the new toys coming in from the south. Gaius had gotten to work in earnest. The factories in New Rome hadn't stopped producing, and we noticed it more with each passing day. First came new weapon variants. Then, better uniforms. And finally, power armor.
At first, I had concerns. After one of his covert missions, Gaius had ordered that all recently manufactured power armor be pulled from the front and sent back to the production lines for immediate upgrades.
It struck me as madness. He was stripping us of armor in the middle of a campaign.
But it didn't take long for me to understand. Soon, the new suits began to return. At first glance, they looked the same—same plating, same imposing silhouette. But now they were coated in a new alloy. Something Gaius had developed in secret. He claimed it improved thermal efficiency, energy resistance, and internal control systems.
I thought it was technical exaggeration—until I saw it firsthand. A group of Eighties managed to ambush one of my cohorts. An old armor suit was pierced. A new one wasn't. The difference was clear.
Our advance became safer, more relentless.
Then Caesar—undoubtedly advised by Gaius—ordered us to slow the pace. Far more than any rational estimate would require.
I didn't understand why.
Until my new praetorian guard arrived.
A mountain of muscle. Clearly a super mutant, though not like the usual ones. This one wore a suit of power armor unlike any we had seen. Likely the final version. Forged from the new alloy, sized for his frame, reinforced with heavy plating and reinforced linkages.
Soon after came a decree, signed personally by Lord Caesar.
A clear order, with no room for interpretation: all Legates were now required to wear power armor in battle.
It wasn't a suggestion. It was a mandate.
The reason was written in ink:"To risk the life of one of Caesar's finest at the mercy of fortune is unthinkable. Every Legate is a pillar of the Empire and must be preserved with the best equipment available."
Reading it, I realized the decree wasn't addressed to me.
Had I been offered power armor, I would have worn it without hesitation.I would've trained with it, mastered its weight, adapted to its pace, and learned its systems.
No. This was meant for Lanius.
Gaius had already offered him a suit—I knew that from consistent reports and rumors. And Lanius, in his steel-bound stubbornness, had refused. He claimed he didn't need tools. That his body was his weapon. That steel belonged on the blade, not the chest.
But this... this wasn't an offer.
It was a direct order from Caesar. And not even the Monster of the East could defy that.
Beyond Gaius's not-so-subtle show of force, the truth was this: we were receiving a steady flow of experimental weapons from the south. All of them needed real combat trials before being approved for large-scale deployment.
The first to arrive was a tactical air-to-ground aircraft, designed for rapid and precise strikes. It was immediately deployed against key Eighties positions, bombing their supply caches, vehicle depots, and warrior gathering points with pinpoint accuracy.
The initial deployment was successful, and from then on, a new aircraft arrived each month—always with fully trained crews operating under the direct orders of local centurions. These units weren't used for prolonged combat, but for surgical strikes, harassment flights, and training exercises. Their attacks inflicted not only material losses, but had a clear psychological impact on the enemy. The Eighties grew increasingly hesitant to occupy exposed positions, began scattering their forces, and lost defensive cohesion every time the aircraft appeared.
The pilots weren't ordinary Legionnaires. It was clear they had been prepared by southern instructors—likely trained under one of Gaius's programs in New Rome.
Then came the new ballistic rifles. Southern production had clearly improved, but what stood out was the weapon's resilience to environmental stress. According to the reports attached to the shipment, the rifles had been tested in water, sand, dirt, mud—and in combinations of all of them at once. And they kept firing.
From a practical standpoint, the only condition that truly mattered was sand resistance. In this region, airborne dust and desert winds were the real enemy of delicate mechanisms. Rain was rare, and mud only appeared in specific pockets. Even so, the engineers had gone further—ensuring the rifles functioned reliably in extreme conditions.
The first batch was assigned to centuriae near my lines. The decanii reported no failures. No jams. Not a single misfire. They fired consistently, even after being dropped in sand or trampled during a skirmish. If those results reflected the standard production model, then Gaius had solved one of our infantry's most persistent issues.
Then came the new plasma weapon models—now arriving in large numbers. Built with a heat-resistant alloy, the weapons were designed specifically for use with power armor, as overheating remained a major issue for unprotected users. The new suits, however, were equipped with internal heat dissipation systems capable of sustaining prolonged use without compromising the operator.
The weapons could now fire much longer before heat became a problem, which was a major improvement over earlier versions that risked failure after a short burst. After extended skirmishes, the barrels remained stable, internal components held their shape, and my accompanying technicians confirmed the failure rate had dropped to less than one-fifth of what we'd seen before.
Another new weapon that began arriving was a piece of armored equipment that signaled something important: the use of self-propelled artillery had finally been formalized within the Legion. We were leaving behind manual artillery—which we had only recently begun to incorporate—for a far more mobile and efficient model, capable of repositioning itself quickly without outside support.
This decision was no coincidence.
The latest frumentarii reports—detailed and extensive—had made it clear what kind of arsenal we could expect from the NCR the moment the order came to advance.
Everything indicated that the Republic had managed to recover and restore a considerable number of heavy artillery pieces, either from unlooted military bases or from Enclave stockpiles that had never been used in their campaigns. That meant that, in the event of open conflict, their capacity to strike first and strike hard was real. And in such a scenario, our ability to move our guns quickly, fire, and relocate immediately would be crucial to preventing our artillery from being destroyed after a single volley.
It also appeared the frumentarii hadn't just reported on the Republic's arsenal. We now had detailed intel on their actual military capacity: tanks, vertibirds, a significant number of power armor units, and a steady supply of laser weaponry—along with a growing network of anti-air defenses across their key zones.
But the most important detail wasn't the weaponry—it was how deep we had penetrated.
According to the latest reports, our agents had successfully infiltrated the Republic's intelligence apparatus, to the point of placing several of our own inside their counterintelligence office. That gave us eyes within the enemy—and more importantly, the ability to filter, distort, and control part of the information flowing through their command centers.
The power armor the NCR now possessed was not originally theirs. It was a strategic gift—courtesy of an unexpected alliance: the Brotherhood of Steel from Lost Hills.
Caesar and Gaius had considered the possibility in their earlier projections, though they believed it unlikely given the historical conflict between the two factions. And yet, the worst-case scenario had been confirmed. Not only had the Brotherhood joined them, but the Shi State had also begun cooperating actively.
In recent weeks, joint meetings between these actors had been observed—coordinating the defense of Californian territory in case of a Legion assault on Shady Sands.
Fortunately, our frumentarii had operated with enough subtlety to keep our campaign in Utah completely veiled. Any time a report surfaced about unusual military movements in the region, our agents intercepted and reclassified it—either as baseless rumor or modified it before it reached central command. Even when the NCR dispatched operatives to investigate, they returned convinced there was nothing out of the ordinary.
Still, we knew that wouldn't last. Our presence would become undeniable eventually—especially if we kept advancing at this pace.
Once this tribe was eliminated, we'd be within striking distance of New Reno and Vault City. Though not formally integrated into the NCR, both functioned as protectorates, making them ideal targets for a lightning campaign. Capturing those cities would force the NCR to split its focus—diverting men and resources away from their heavily fortified southern defenses, and opening a window for a deeper push into Californian territory.
But while we continued testing new equipment and assessing its performance in the field, direct orders arrived from Caesar himself. Clear. Unambiguous. Not open to interpretation.
I was to crush the Eighties with all available speed and then strike New Reno with full force.
The peace with the NCR was over.
The last gold payment agreed upon had been received. Gaius had no intention of extending the agreement. The Republic had begun rallying support from several northern states—preparing to resist an assault they now knew was inevitable.
Lanius had been summoned to the northern front—not as an isolated executioner this time, but as my direct reinforcement.
His personal legion—that unstoppable tide of flesh, iron, and faith—was already returning, marching from the east toward the new frontiers.
The war had begun again.
And this time, there would be no retreat.No concessions.No diplomatic truces.
This time, the Legion would conquer that corrupt state once and for allwould annihilate the NCR—and erase it from the map.
For the promise I made that day.For the promise we both made.