C37 The New Legions

Further down the fields, a different kind of training was underway. The new armored cohorts, the men assigned to operate the Imperium's growing mechanized forces, were being introduced to their steel beasts.

Old, refurbished Panzer II tanks, newly acquired from the Gunderians, rumbled across the frozen dirt, their engines growling as they performed maneuver drills.

The recruits assigned to them were being shoved inside, forced to memorize every inch of their new machines.

"If you cannot take this panzer apart and reassemble it in the dark, you will DIE inside it!"

A grim faced instructor bellowed as he pointed to one of the panzers.

"This is not your tomb! This is your f*cking chariot! Treat it like your lover, or it will betray you on the battlefield!"

Beyond the armored units, a group of future paratroopers stood in a tight formation, their uniforms already soaked with sweat despite the biting cold.

They had spent the last six hours running drills, long distance marches with full gear, obstacle courses designed to break even the toughest men, and hand to hand combat sessions where hesitation meant getting beaten to the ground.

"YOU WANT TO BE PARATROOPERS?!"

The head instructor, a towering brute with a voice like rolling thunder, stomped forward.

"THEN START ACTING LIKE IT!"

He jabbed a finger at a particularly exhausted recruit, whose knees were shaking.

"You think you have what it takes to drop into enemy lines?! To fight while surrounded?! To kill without hesitation?! If you can't handle this training, JUMP OFF A CLIFF NOW AND SAVE US THE TROUBLE!"

Finally, the airmen, the future pilots of the Imperium's fledgling air force, were gathered around stripped down biplane frames, their hands trembling from both exhaustion and excitement.

The paratrooper drill instructors drilled them mercilessly.

"If you don't learn every bolt, every wire, every g*dsdamn mechanism in this machine, you are DEAD!"

One recruit hesitated before responding.

"But, sir, I thought we were training to fly, not to repair!"

The instructor snapped his head toward him and sneered.

"If your aircraft takes a hit in battle, who the f*ck is going to fix it while you're plummeting towards the ground?! Your mommy?! NO! YOU WILL! NOW GET BACK TO WORK!"

The recruits groaned but obeyed, their fingers raw as they continued stripping and reassembling parts. Across the fields, there was no escape. No relief. No mercy.

The weak would either be reforged into warriors or discarded as failures. This was the will of the Imperator. And the Imperium would march forward, one way or another.

...

The sight before me was something I hadn't seen in years, yet it felt as familiar as an old friend. A vast field filled with endless drills, the air thick with the shouts of instructors.

The desperate grunts of exhausted recruits, and the occasional whimper of a man who had been pushed past his breaking point.

I couldn't help but snicker because of nostalgia.

The stench of sweat, mud, and desperation filled my lungs, and it was oddly nostalgic. I had been an army grunt once, before I got blasted with a shotgun by truck kun.

Back then, I had been the one suffering through the screaming, the drills, the endless push ups in the dirt. And now, I stood above it all, watching as the next generation of warriors was forged.

My crimson eyes flicked to my right, settling on Lucilla. A week of proper food, medical care, hygiene, and a service uniform had worked wonders on her.

Before, she had been just another weary face in the crowd, a woman barely scraping by in the shadows of Nova Roma.

Now, she stood straight, her presence exuding quiet confidence, her hourglass shaped figure no longer hidden beneath rags but properly framed by a neatly tailored same as mine color scheme service uniform.

Her golden hair, once unkempt and tangled, was now tied into a high bun, per military regulation. A few stray strands had escaped, framing her sharp features.

Her cheekbones were more pronounced now that her face wasn't hollow from hunger. Her skin, once pallid, had gained a healthy glow.

And her eyes emerald green, piercing, and unwavering held a newfound fire, as if she was still trying to process the fact that she had somehow gone from the depths of the r*d light district.

To standing beside the Imperator himself. My gaze lingered for a moment longer before shifting again. Flavia.

The little girl had grown on me more than I had expected. Her presence was something I hadn't realized I needed, Innocent, pure, unburdened by the weight of war and politics.

A bright spark in the dark void that was my current mind. Even now, she was laughing, her small hands gripping Lupa's thick alloy plates as she clambered over the war beast like she was nothing more than a giant, armored dog.

Lupa, for all her ferocity on the battlefield, remained still, tolerating the girl's antics with the patience of a mother wolf.

Every so often, she would flick her massive tail, sending Flavia covered In furrs into a fit of giggles as she hugged the beast's neck.

A rare sight. A rare moment of peace in a world that was anything but. Then, I heard it. The deep, guttural growl of an engine.

I turned my gaze back toward the training fields as a heavily modified Panzer II rumbled toward us, its tracks churning the frostbitten earth beneath its weight.

The modified Panzer II hissed as its engine settled into an idle rumble, the scent of oil, exhaust, and steel filling the cold morning air.

The metal plating, still gleaming from recent work. With a heavy clang, the hatch swung open, and the crew of five paratroopers, covered in grease and sweat, climbed out, their movements efficient, practiced.

Unlike the green recruits struggling through training, these men were already hardened, their faces set with quiet confidence as they dropped onto the frost covered dirt with military precision. 

One of them, the tank commander, snapped to attention, raising his hand raising to his helmet with Inbuilt headphones and padding covered head in salute before stepping forward. 

"Imperator! The prototype is fully operational and ready for evaluation." 

I nodded, stepping closer as the already waiting engineers and technicians, dressed in their gray service coats and oil stained gloves, moved in.

The lead engineer, an older man with a sharp gaze and a clipboard clutched in his hands, cleared his throat. 

"As you can see, Imperator, this is no standard Panzer II. We've stripped away unnecessary weight, reinforced the main chassis with angled molybdenum steel plating to enhance deflection capabilities and also change the turret from two person crew to three,"

He gestured to the newly angled armor.

"The front and turret now boast 40mm thickness, enough to shrug off most small caliber anti tank weapons." 

The Minister of War, standing to my right, leaned in slightly, his eyes gleaming with interest.

"And the main armament?"

He asked, his voice a mix of excitement and scrutiny. 

The engineer smirked, tapping the side of the turret with his gloved knuckles.

"We've replaced the original 20mm autocannon with an Improved 37mm gun. Not as powerful as a heavy anti panzer weapon, but far superior to its predecessor. It can reliably pierce enemy light armor and most outdated medium tanks, we also replaced the fixed 7.62 mm machine gun with a heavy one, added a light one for the panzer commander and one for the radio operator" 

The Minister of War exhaled, nodding approvingly.

"A significant improvement. The increased firepower will make these panzers far more versatile, what about mobility, Armor's thicker, gun's heavier. That has to affect speed." 

The minister of Industry asked.

The engineer nodded, flipping a page in his clipboard.

"Correct, minister. However, the conversion blueprints had accounted for that. The suspension has been replaced with chistie suspension to handle the extra weight, and the engine has been swapped out for a gasoline one. It's a tight fit, but it provides enough horsepower to keep the panzer moving at roughly 45 km/h on road and 30 km/h off road. It won't win races, but it won't lag behind either." 

Hearing this the Minister of War chuckled, clapping the engineer on the back.

"Good, good! We need panzers that strike hard and fast, not cumbersome steel coffins!" 

"Whats the production estimate how many will we have before the end February I asked?

The engineers and technicians murmured among themselves, exchanging glances, flipping through blueprints and production schedules hastily scribbled on their clipboards. The lead engineer, after a brief moment of calculation, turned to face me with a firm nod.

"Four, Imperator. We can have four fully operational units before the end of February."

I hummed in acknowledgment. It was within expectations. I hadn't allocated too many factories for this project yet, the priority had been infantry equipment, munitions, and aircraft. The armored divisions would have their time soon enough.