"Like a brahmin to the slaughter house," said Vulpes Inculta with a sadistic smile as he glanced over the peace treaty.
I observed his expression with indifference.
"It was a good idea to use your Frumentarii to ensure the NCR heard our proposal for peace," I replied, my gaze never leaving the document.
Vulpes tilted his head slightly, pleased.
"Now we can only hope my men remain unnoticed. It would be a shame to lose good Frumentarii who have spent so much time infiltrating NCR society. But then, if they die, they will have fulfilled their purpose—and you will have your peace."
There was something in his tone that irritated me slightly. I knew Vulpes did not question my decisions, but the Frumentarii always saw war from a different perspective. To him, the game was not over—it had merely shifted to a new board.
"You are not going to criticize this like Lanius?" I asked, turning to look at him.
Vulpes let out a short laugh.
"I understand the reasoning. Just as I understand it better than Caesar's butcher."
"Good, good… it is refreshing to have someone competent who thinks beyond their own bubble," I said, studying Vulpes with interest. It was rare to find someone in the Legion who valued information as much as the sword.
Leaning back in my chair, I clasped my fingers together before continuing.
"Regarding what I asked of you…"
Vulpes gave a subtle smile and placed a stack of documents before me.
"Here is everything my scouts uncovered about those Enclave remnants."
My eyes fell on the first report as he continued speaking.
"That old scientist did not take long to grow nervous and return to his hiding place. And there, the others were waiting."
I flipped through the pages slowly, analyzing the photographs. Aged faces, yet with the same hardened expressions of men who had served in an army for far too long.
"We tracked and studied them. A group of old men… yet their movements suggest soldiers. They hold rank—or fear—given how cautious they are about being followed. And well… if they are Enclave, I am not surprised. To the NCR, they are even worse than we are."
Vulpes dropped another set of papers onto the table. More photographs, more names.
I picked one up. An older man, gray hair, his back straight despite his age. Cold eyes.
"I suppose this is their hideout…" I murmured, examining the reports once more. Everything indicated that the Enclave still had life left in some corner of this territory.
Sliding the documents aside, I stood and adjusted my power armor.
"Bring them to me… civilly. If they were enemies of the NCR, they may yet prove useful."
Vulpes nodded, though his sly smile showed he had already anticipated this outcome.
"If they are who we believe they are, they will not come willingly."
"I do not expect them to."
"Shall I persuade them with words or with steel?"
"Use words first. But if they refuse… bring them by any means necessary."
Vulpes gave a slight bow and left without another word.
I immediately boarded the Vertibird and set off toward their location. The roar of the engines was deafening, but my mind was focused on what I would find there.
As Vulpes's reports had indicated, a well-sealed bunker stood in the area. Old, yet intact.
If it truly belonged to the old government, it would not open easily. A last-generation anti-hacking system meant I could spend hours, days, perhaps weeks trying to breach it… or I could simply ask those who had been seen using it.
Time is a resource far more valuable than brute force.
I ordered the targets to be brought in immediately. Meanwhile, I observed the surroundings from above.
Nothing on the surface suggested activity, but that did not mean the place was abandoned. If the Enclave still existed here, they knew how to remain hidden.
At last, another Vertibird arrived at my designated point. From the ramp, several men and a woman descended, dressed in common clothes—yet their posture was far too rigid for mere civilians.
They were soldiers. Perhaps not in uniform, perhaps without insignias, but their gaze and the way they analyzed their surroundings revealed them.
I said nothing at first. I merely observed them, allowing them to feel the weight of my presence before speaking.
"Ave… amicus of the Legion." My voice carried with deliberate firmness as I walked toward them, ensuring they felt each step.
"As you must be aware, I rule the Mojave." I paused briefly before continuing. "I am Legate Gaius, second-in-command of the Legion. Your presence has not gone unnoticed."
My eyes settled on the scientist of the group—Henry. His face, though stoic, showed a hint of tension. He knew his people had been discovered because of him, and that they had no escape.
"But I am not your enemy." I stopped a few steps away, my hands resting calmly at my sides. "On the contrary, I may be the one to give you what you seek."
I watched them exchange glances. They were alert, but also intrigued.
"All the power of the Legion rests with me—second only to Caesar." I let them process that before making my next move.
"I trust we can speak somewhere more private." I gestured toward the bunker. "As enemies of the NCR, I assume it should not be an issue for us to have a civil conversation, should it?"
One of the men looked at the others, his expression a mix of resignation and caution.
"I suppose we have no choice…" he said with a quiet sigh. "I am Judah, former captain of the Enclave."
The others followed suit, introducing themselves one by one:
"Henry, scientist.""Orion, trooper.""Johnson, marksman.""Daisy, pilot."
Their names meant nothing to the Legion. But their past did. They were part of what remained of the Enclave—a faction that once believed itself to be the last remnant of the old world.
Judah stepped forward and murmured:
"Dear Old Friends, Remember Navarro."
As he entered the password.
There was a brief silence before the bunker's system reacted. The heavy doors began to open slowly, releasing a stale gust of air from within.
I allowed myself a slight smile. They had made the right decision.
"A wise choice."
Turning to my Legionaries, I raised a hand.
"All of you, stay outside. I go in alone."
Without hesitation, I crossed the threshold of the bunker.
The Enclave group led me through the base's corridors. The worn steel walls and flickering lights spoke of a place that had seen better days, yet it still retained its usefulness.
"So this bunker… a military stockpile? A data center?" I asked as I examined the mechanical structures overhead—too large to be mere ventilation ducts.
Judah shook his head.
"Nothing of the sort. This was a minor Vertibird refueling station. A transit point, not a military stronghold or command center. When Navarro was at its peak, this facility served as a resupply post for aircraft engaged in tactical operations."
I paused for a moment, studying the suspension hooks on the ceiling and the hydraulic lifts on the ground. It all made sense.
"How many were in service?"
"At its height, at least half a dozen. But after Navarro fell, few remained airworthy. Those that could fly left with the Enclave remnants."
"And here?"
Judah exhaled, weary.
"When the base was abandoned, some were left behind. Three in total, but in conditions I doubt are repairable without specialized parts."
"Show me."
Judah did not argue. He led me down a wider corridor until we reached a large, rusted gate. Daisy, the pilot, entered a code into an old panel, and the door opened with a mechanical groan.
The hangar was dark, the air thick with rust and old oil. Inside, like sleeping beasts, three Vertibirds lay dormant.
"They can be repaired. As you likely suspect, we can get them running, but it will take time. It is easier to refurbish something than to build it from scratch… but these run on diesel."
I stepped closer to one of the Vertibirds, running my hand along the cold, worn metal.
"Sweetheart, all Vertibirds run on diesel," Daisy said in an offhanded tone.
"Mine do not," I replied.
She frowned. "What?"
"Mine operate on an electric feed from a cold fusion generator. They can run indefinitely without the need to refuel. They do not rely on a constant supply of fossil fuel, though they require more frequent maintenance due to long missions."
A brief silence followed as they processed the information.
"Well, damn…" Daisy muttered, scratching her head. "I always thought you could only fly as far as the fuel you could carry."
I allowed a faint smile. For someone from the Enclave, her mindset was still trapped in the logic of the old world.
"The Legion has surpassed that limitation."
Henry, who had remained silent until now, frowned, his expression a mix of disbelief and curiosity.
"How did you accomplish that?"
I turned to him with a slight smirk, though my patience was already thin.
"And you are supposed to be the intelligent one?" My gaze locked onto him as I crossed my arms. "I just told you—a cold fusion generator.yes, we can do it, though it takes time."
Henry opened his mouth but quickly shut it again.
"Very well, I will not waste your time." My voice remained calm, neither hurried nor pressured. "Do you have Enclave data? Any databases, records, anything?"
I crossed my arms, studying them one by one.
"I need that information. If you hand it over, I will ensure you are generously recognized for your service to the Legion."
There was a brief pause before Orion, the soldier, spoke in the same defiant tone as before.
"That belongs to the rightful government of America."
There it was. It had taken them longer than I expected to say it.
I smiled calmly. "You took your time… saying that."
I observed how their postures shifted subtly.
"I could give you access to my vault's database right now." I said, watching them.
Henry frowned. "Your vault?"
"Yes. Where I was raised." My tone remained relaxed, but I let every word carry weight. "I was created for one purpose alone… to be the perfect politician. To be the future President of the United States."
I watched them tense. They understood."A project conceived by the American state…"
Henry pressed his lips together before murmuring: "The Enclave…"
I nodded slowly, my smile measured.
"Exactly." I met Henry's gaze directly, maintaining a serene, controlled expression. "I knew you were the smart one."
I watched them process what I had just said. Their faces showed only caution.
"I am an Enclave project…" I let the words linger before continuing. "I am the future."
They exchanged uncertain glances, unsure whether to believe me or fear me. But they knew I was not joking.
I stepped forward.
"Well then…" I said in a soft yet firm voice. "Can I access that information?"
Judah pressed his lips together.
"This is a small outpost… When Navarro and the oil rig were destroyed, we managed to transmit some data to this database, but it is not much," Judah admitted, walking toward another room.
Inside, a holographic map of the Mojave flickered to life. Judah quickly accessed the console and stepped aside, allowing me to use it.
"I hope you find something useful," Judah said, while the others watched me carefully.
"Let's see if I still have the magic touch…" I stepped out of my power armor and began searching through the database.
Construction blueprints, locations of hidden bases, other bunkers, concealed arsenals, secure transmission codes, Enclave training materials on combined infantry and power armor assault tactics… Highly valuable information.
And then—air and ground attack strategies using Vertibirds.
Modified power armor schematics… MK2 models.
Weapon schematics… A little of everything.
But the most frequent files? Security footage from a marine facility.
"What… is that?" I muttered, watching a recording where a giant clad in power armor towered over soldiers like a walking nightmare.
"Frank Horrigan," Judah said.
A slow, wide grin spread across my face.
"Magnificent."