Pecos Colony I
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POV of Sheila
Pecos Colony, my home, stands as a reminder of our people's roots, of the sacrifices and hardships our ancestors endured to carve out a future. They left behind the uncertain security of the Republic of Rio Grande when the land began to dry up and resources became scarce, abandoning cities and settlements. The journey was hard, but our people survived, resilient as ever, driven by the hope of finding something better.
Here, in the lands of Pecos, life isn't easy either, but we've made these plains our own. The herds we tend, the same ones our past generations raised with such effort, have given us a wealth our ancestors could never have imagined. Meat and milk, coveted by those who can afford them, have made our colony a key trading center in the region. However, our strength doesn't just come from the animals we care for, but from the nature of our people themselves: cunning, swift, always ready to adapt. We know how to move when the moment calls for it, which has allowed us to survive and thrive in a world where others haven't.
But with wealth comes greed, and shadows stretch across the horizon. Trade has attracted mercenaries and raiders alike, drawn to our goods. Rumors of organized bands planning to ambush our shipments never stop. And while we've defended our roads before, the threats are multiplying.
In Pecos Colony, we had learned to live on the move, always following our herds and building temporary settlements where we could trade our wealth for other supplies. The few fixed trading posts we had were desert refuges, places where the brahmin's meat and milk allowed us to prosper. If one of those posts was raided, it was just a temporary blow; we rebuilt it quickly and moved on. That was our life, until the Legion arrived.
The Legion's movement under Paullus marked a turning point. Up until then, we had dealt with bandits and raiders, but Paullus was different. He wasn't just another leader; he was a beast, cruel and disciplined, moving with the weight of an unstoppable horde. To the north and south, in New Mexico and beyond, he left behind ravaged towns, chained slaves, and ashes in the wind. Despite being defeated by the Sundogs and later by the Republic of Rio Grande, they never managed to kill him. He stayed alive, like a persistent shadow, raiding, burning, and enslaving in the name of Caesar, a leader whose name was starting to echo as a distant but real threat.
With each raid by Paullus, more of our towns were reduced to ashes. Families lost their herds, their livelihoods, and fear began to spread among us. However, amidst the despair, resistance blossomed. We used our earnings to acquire better weapons, and the herds that were once our sustenance now gave us the opportunity to defend ourselves. Little by little, our tribes and towns stopped being easy prey. Paullus found more and more resistance, and his attacks on our lands became less frequent.
But even when it seemed like we might weather the storm, the real monster appeared. Lanius. Paullus' successor arrived with an even greater fury. This new leader wasn't just a raider; he was a conqueror. While Paullus sought wealth, Lanius sought absolute submission. He conquered all of New Mexico in just two years, crushing any resistance in his path, punishing those who dared to defy him.
We were lucky, that's all. Pecos Colony, by some miracle, never caught Lanius' eye. Had it done so, our story would have ended very differently. Despite our improved weapons, we were poorly equipped compared to the thousands of fanatical legionaries Lanius commanded. If his attention had turned to us, we wouldn't have stood a chance.
But we weren't his target. Lanius had his sights set on something much larger: Dog City, the largest city in the north, where thousands of souls were about to be crushed under his ruthless march. While his army advanced toward that city, we could breathe a little easier, but only for a while. We knew we couldn't hide forever. The world was changing, and Caesar and his Legion's shadow loomed ever closer over us.
The threat of the Legion didn't end with Lanius. Although his brutality was legendary, it was his second-in-command, Gaius, who began to stand out as an unstoppable force in our region. While Lanius crushed all of New Mexico and headed north, Gaius was assigned a new mission: to conquer Mexico in Caesar's name. His reputation quickly grew among those who traded with the Legion. It wasn't just rumors; merchants spoke with fear of his relentless efficiency. If Lanius was the destructive force of the Legion, Gaius was the hammer that struck with surgical precision.
What set him apart from Lanius was clear. Gaius didn't revel in cruelty; he didn't destroy for the sake of pleasure. But what he lacked in brutality, he made up for with astonishing efficiency. Soon, word of his first great feat in northern Mexico spread: in just two days, Gaius had wiped out one of the region's most powerful drug cartels, a group that had resisted the Republic of Rio Grande's efforts to crush it for years.
What the Republic had repeatedly failed to do, Gaius accomplished in just 48 hours. Families who still traded with the Republic began to wonder if the Legion was invincible, if perhaps the Republic, with all its attempts to control the north, was destined to fail. Gaius' success wasn't just military; it began to erode confidence in the institutions that had maintained the balance in this land. If a single person, commanding a few hundred legionaries, could crush a cartel of that magnitude, what hope did we, small traders and nomads, have of resisting?
The Republic of Rio Grande, in an effort to consolidate power and protect us from Caesar's advancing legions, had done everything possible to get us, the peoples of Pecos Colony, to join as new states of their Republic. The promises were tempting: protection, safe trade, and, above all, an army that could stand against the brutality of the legionaries. We were at a crossroads. Some leaders in the colony believed it was the only viable option to resist, while others feared we would lose our identity, our nomadic way of life, under the Republic's influence.
However, while we debated our future, fate took a turn. Las Granjas, our neighboring state, which was supposed to put the integration proposal to a vote, suffered a devastating blow. The "Fox of Chihuahua," their shrewd and charismatic leader, was assassinated on his way to the parliament of his city. His death was a shock to all of us. Las Granjas had been a stronghold of resistance against Paullus, a land that had proven its ability to defeat the Legion in the past, with a strong and well-trained militia. If anyone could resist the legionaries, we thought it would be them.
But it wasn't.
In just one day, Las Granjas fell. One single day. Under the command of Legate Gaius, the Legion forces tore through what we had once considered one of the safest and best-defended regions in our area.
It was the first time I regretted this democratic system we have. Although I, as the leader, had done everything possible to defend my people, a vote needed to take place to join the Republic of Río Grande, respecting the procedures. During the next two months, we had to resist so that the vote could be held, ensuring all families were present to vote.
But Legate Gaius was there, just across the river. No one knew when he would cross, and we would be next on his list of conquests.
The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the checkpoint where I stood, watching the dusty horizon. Everything seemed quiet, as it usually was this time of year. However, that peace was shattered when one of my officers approached, his face tense and sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Sheriff Sheila… Paullus is on the move again. He tried to raid territory in the Republic of Río Grande, but was repelled. Now he's burning the southern settlements," he said gravely, as though the words were heavy in his mouth.
A knot formed in my stomach. It wasn't the first time Paullus had re-emerged like a persistent nightmare, impossible to eliminate. I clenched my fists tightly, my teeth grinding in frustration.
"That bastard again… How is it possible they still can't kill him?" I said, unable to hide the anger in my voice. He was like a ghost that refused to disappear, a scourge that seemed eternal for our land.
"Call all available officers and arm the volunteers! We can't think about resisting the Legion with Paullus burning everything in his path," I said firmly, feeling the weight of responsibility pressing on my chest as I grabbed my revolver and rifle, both now familiar in my hands.
The officer didn't hesitate for a second. He nodded quickly and rushed off, kicking up a trail of dust as he ran to gather the others. We knew that time wasn't on our side. Paullus moved with the ferocity of a storm.
I felt the cold steel of the revolver against my waist, a tool I had used far too many times in recent years. My rifle, worn but reliable, hung over my shoulder as I made my way to the settlement's central square. The people of Pecos Colony were beginning to notice the shift in the atmosphere, their conversations growing quieter as fear began to settle in.
As more officers arrived and volunteers began to gather, I knew we had to do more than just defend. Paullus wasn't an enemy that could be ignored; he had to be stopped before his destructive hand reached our doors.
We mounted the vehicles, engines roaring as we sped across the dusty terrain. The dry wind whipped around us, but our thoughts were clear and focused. The sound of wheels crunching gravel was only interrupted by radio transmissions as we tried to communicate with the border officers. We knew Paullus wouldn't stop, and we couldn't afford to waste time.
Finally, a response came. The border officers had managed to observe his movements. Paullus was advancing with his Legion chariots, that dark war machine that moved his troops from place to place with brutal efficiency. They gave us his exact location and the likely route he would take toward the next settlement.
Clenching my fists, I pressed on. There was no time to lose. Every minute that passed meant more destruction, more lives ruined. The people in that settlement wouldn't have any idea what was coming their way, but we were prepared. In a matter of hours, we managed to get ahead of Paullus's destructive path. We set up in the settlement we had deduced would be his next target, hiding among the abandoned buildings and preparing our positions to ambush him.
The day's heat was beginning to fade, but the tension in the air was palpable. We all knew that as soon as we saw the Legion banners approach, the real battle would begin. My hands gripped my rifle, my heart pounding. Paullus believed this would be another easy assault, another town he could burn without resistance, but this time he would be surprised.
From our elevated position, I could see my men and women, ready, hidden behind walls and rubble. Some took positions behind old trucks and wagons, their weapons aimed at the settlement's entrance. We knew the advantage was ours. Paullus was coming in confident, used to his mere presence causing terror, with no one offering more than token resistance.
But this time, it would be different.
The sun began to set, and in the distance, I could see the dust kicked up by the Legion chariots. My heart skipped a beat, but this time it wasn't fear—it was the anticipation of the battle we had been waiting for. I looked at my officers and nodded. They knew what was coming.
"Get ready," I murmured into the radio, keeping my voice low. "Everyone hold their positions. When they're close enough, we'll give them a welcome."
The sound of the chariots grew louder with every second. The Legion was coming, and this time, Paullus wouldn't walk away unscathed.
The Legion chariots stormed into the center of town, the roar of wheels and the clash of metal echoing through the air like an oncoming storm. The ground trembled under their weight, and dust rose in thick clouds, darkening the sky for a moment. The Legion raiders, confident and full of arrogance, leaped from the chariots, ready to repeat the brutal routine of destruction they were so accustomed to.
But this time, things would be different.
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Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.