Stan's POV
The fires still smoldered as I stepped through the wreckage outside Republic's walls. The stench of burning metal and flesh filled the air, mixing with the cries of the wounded being carried inside for treatment. The slaver attack had been brutal, but Republic had held. Barely.
Billy stood at the center of it all, his face streaked with dirt and sweat. His coat was torn at the shoulder, bloodstained but still standing tall. The man was a fighter, no doubt about that.
"You held the line," I said again, surveying the bodies.
"Barely," Billy muttered, shaking his head. His eyes were hard, calculating. He wasn't just thinking about this battle—he was thinking about the next one, he was right to. This wasn't over.
We moved inside the gates, past the makeshift hospital where Republic's medics worked frantically to save the wounded. The air was thick with the coppery scent of blood, the moans of the injured mixing with hurried voices barking out orders. I could see it in Billy's eyes every life lost here was a weight on his shoulders.
Inside the war room, John and U-12 were already going over intel. A large map of the surrounding region flickered on the holotable. Red markers dotted the terrain slaver camps, known raider activity, potential threats. But one marker stood out. A large red X deep in the western badlands.
Billy leaned over the table. "We got this off a captured slaver's datapad. This symbol it's their main base. The heart of their operation."
I studied it carefully. The location was remote, surrounded by natural cliffs and deep ravines. A fortress.
"They call it Blacksite," John added. "A pre-war military complex turned into a slaver stronghold. They run their entire operation from there."
That name sent a chill down my spine. "Blacksite?" I repeated. "You sure?"
Billy frowned. "You know it?"
I hesitated. The Brotherhood had records of various pre-war installations, but Blacksite was something else. Rumors, fragmented reports. A place where high-level experiments took place before the war. Some believed it was just another old-world prison. Others thought it housed something far worse.
"This place is bad news," I finally said. "Even before the war, it had a reputation. If the slavers have set up there, it means they've got resources. Firepower." I looked at Billy. "We're going to need more than just Republic's militia to take it down."
Billy exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "Figured as much. But if we let them regroup, they'll come back stronger. And next time, we might not hold."
Silence filled the room as we weighed our options. Then U-12 spoke.
"There is another factor to consider," the AI's synthetic voice crackled through the speakers. "During the battle, we intercepted a transmission. The slavers were calling for backup."
John cursed under his breath. "Great. Reinforcements."
I leaned forward. "Do we know where the message was sent?"
U-12 paused. "Unknown. The transmission was heavily encrypted, but it was not directed toward other slaver bands."
Billy's expression darkened. "Then who the hell were they calling?"
A cold realization settled in my gut. "The Enclave."
The room went silent. John swore again. Billy's fists clenched.
If the slavers were in contact with the Enclave, this just got a whole lot worse. The Enclave was the last remnant of the old world's government fanatical, well-equipped, and ruthless. If they were backing the slavers, or worse, planning to use them for their own ends, then we were dealing with something far bigger than just raiders and warbands.
Billy straightened. "We don't have time to wait. If they're calling for help, we need to hit Blacksite before reinforcements arrive."
I nodded. "Agreed. But we need more firepower. My knights can help, but even with power armor, we can't take that place alone."
Billy turned to U-12. "Get me a list of every potential ally in the region. Settlements, merc groups, anyone who hates slavers more than they like breathing. We're going to need an army."
U-12's processors whirred. "Compiling data. Stand by."
Billy looked at me. "If we do this, we go all in. No half-measures."
I met his gaze. "I wouldn't have it any other way."
Billy's POV
Republic didn't have time to mourn. The fires were still smoldering when the real work began. The slavers would regroup, and if the Enclave was involved, we were on borrowed time.
I stood on the wall, overlooking the wasteland. The bodies had been cleared, the wounded treated, but the scars remained. My people were tough, but even the strongest fighters had their limits. We needed more numbers, more weapons, more of everything.
U-12's voice crackled in my earpiece. "I have compiled a list of potential allies. Would you like the short version or full details?"
"Give me the highlights," I said, turning away from the ruined battlefield.
A holographic display flickered to life on my wrist device. Three names stood out.
The Iron Fangs, A mercenary group operating out of the eastern ruins. Well-trained, well-armed, and expensive. But they had no love for slavers.
The Dustborn Tribe, A nomadic warrior clan roaming the badlands. Fierce fighters, but they didn't trust outsiders. Earning their loyalty wouldn't be easy.
New Austin, A fortified settlement built from the ruins of an old-world military base. They had numbers and gear, but their leader, Mayor Hart, was more politician than soldier. Getting her to commit would require diplomacy.
I sighed, None of these options would be simple.
I tapped my radio "John, get the trucks ready, We're heading out."
"Where first?" he asked.
"The Iron Fangs," I said. "Money talks, and we don't have time to earn trust the hard way."
Stan's POV
While Billy and his crew set out to gather allies, my team focused on securing Republic's defenses. If the slavers returned, they'd find a much stronger fortress waiting for them.
I walked alongside Knight Hendricks, inspecting the eastern barricades. The walls had held during the attack, but they were scarred, pockmarked with bullet holes and scorch marks.
"We can reinforce these sections with scrap plating from the wreckage," Hendricks said. "Won't look pretty, but it'll hold."
I nodded. "Do it. And I want firing positions set up along the southern ridge. If another warband comes through, I don't want them getting close."
As we worked, my mind kept going back to Blacksite. The Enclave. If they were backing the slavers, that meant something bigger was in play.
I pulled up my holomap, running a quick scan of the region. There were old Brotherhood records about the site fragments of data about pre-war research, classified experiments. If the Enclave wanted it, that meant there was something there worth hiding, and I intended to find out what.
Billy's POV
The Iron Fangs' compound was built inside the ruins of an old-world factory, a maze of rusted metal and towering smokestacks. Guards in mismatched armor watched us from above, rifles at the ready.
John, U-12, and I approached the main gate, hands away from our weapons. We were here to talk, not start a war.
A heavyset man in reinforced combat armor stepped forward, his cybernetic eye glowing red. Commander Voss, leader of the Iron Fangs.
"Well, well," Voss said, his voice a low growl. "If it ain't Republic. Heard you had a rough night."
"Nothing we couldn't handle," I replied. "But we've got unfinished business. We need guns, soldiers, and people who know how to use them."
Voss chuckled. "That so? And what's in it for us?"
I expected that Mercs didn't fight for free. I motioned to U-12, who projected a map of Blacksite. "Slavers have turned this place into a fortress. They're backed by something bigger. You help us take it down, you get first pick of whatever's inside. Weapons, tech, gear whatever we find."
Voss studied the map, rubbing his chin. "You're betting there's something worth taking."
"I know there is," I said.
Silence then, a slow grin spread across his face.
"You got yourself a deal, but don't expect us to fight for free next time."
I smirked. "Wouldn't dream of it."
One ally down two more to go, and the storm was still building.