[b][color=004b80]High Elder Gladstone – Western Brotherhood of Steel – Santa Fe[/color][/b]

The convoy rumbled along the long stretch of highway towards Santa Fe, kicking up a small trail of dust into the air, a harbinger of their oncoming approach. The progress of the convoy attracted much attention from the citizenry of the Legion, perhaps unused to seeing such an unusual formation within their borders. Some slaves even stopping their work to watch the rumbling vehicles stream past them along the cracked highway, before returning to their work before their overseers could crack the whips upon them.

On and on it went, five vehicles in all, two gunmetal grey M3 Scout cars at the front and rear of the convoy respectively. These light fleet-footed automobiles followed or preceded respectively by three turreted M113 Armoured Personnel carriers. Glancing out over the various fields as the roared their way towards Santa Fe, Gladstone allowed himself a moment of quiet admiration for the hardiness of the Legion in carving out such a paradise among such desolation. He allowed that to fade away quickly as the intercom crackled on inside the relatively cramped innards of the APC.

“We’re five minutes out from arrival. All vehicles prepare to disembark. And close up and prepare to slow down, we’re approaching foot traffic, weapons ready.”

Turning his attention to the men within the confines of the carrier, Gladstone ruminated on the new style of uniform he’d ordered for his soldiers. Gone was the ragtag style of ages past, a new order required change. For his soldiers, this meant a new uniform and organisation. The inspiration for these reforms had been from the pre-war world naturally. Previously the brotherhoods forces had been organised along feudal lines. Now, forces were organised in military style, a standing army was implemented, a reserve force was created along with conscription being started to enable a more readily available source of manpower to be raised with minimal fuss.

The old system of knights, paladins and scribes had been mothballed. Skipping over the Midwestern Brotherhood, the organisation of the now silent east coast brotherhood had been found to be the most applicable to the situation. Now, forces were divided among the scroll and the sword. All beginners inducted as initiates, then squires. From there, they either became Knights or Scribes and so, began the steady climb upwards. Outsiders now entered as Aspirants, with the tribes having proved themselves to become brotherhood proper in Gladstone’s eyes, outsiders had now come to mean those from outside the borders of the brotherhoods lands.

The uniform meanwhile, had changed for all branches. A more militant style of dress had been adopted both for combat and non-combat situations. Knights now arrayed in field grey uniforms with an increase in power enabling full combat armour production now, with all the forces dressed in combat armour. Energy weaponry still remained in the hands of the Paladins, but a more diverse array had been opened up for the lower ranks, the standard arms being a combat rifle and 9mm pistol along with a bayonet and grenade. On the parade ground and out of combat, a sharp uniform had been adopted in the vein of the old fascistic army uniforms of the 20th century. Utilitarian, Meritocratic and Technocratic thinking was now the order of the day.

All in all, the Brotherhood had come to feel more an army with a nation, than a nation with an army, the military style had come to dominate the culture. Fashion had shifted away from mediaevalesque robes, and onto buttoned jackets with shoulder straps and suchlike. Breeches and boots, trench coats and peaked caps. Though the Brotherhood hadn’t become entirely militarised, some entrepreneurial tailor had read a book on pre-war fashion and had promptly begun promoting Edwardian fashion which had rapidly caught on among the populace. Gladstone supposed this was a reaction to the past, inward and closeted, conservative and austere, pacifistic and with an air of a managed decline. Now though, the vogue was towards he supposed a more outward look, wanting to conquer rather than be conquered, to have rather than have not. 

The sudden jolting halt of the convoy forcibly removed these thoughts from the High Elders mind, as a green light suddenly flicked on inside the carrier and the doors opened up. Blinking furiously as a blinding shaft of sunlight illuminated the cabin, Gladstone winced as the hot air of Santa Fe rushed inside the previously air-conditioned space. Making his way out of the metal cabin, Gladstone stood and regained his composure. Clad in shining black boots with crisp black breeches, a dark grey jacket and white shirt with a black tie, with the only decoration he allowed himself being silver laurel patterned shoulder straps, a simple silvery grey aiguillette around the right shoulder, and a black armband bearing the symbol of the brotherhood also on the right arm.

He limped forwards, his cane striking on the ground as he approached the foot of the stairs where a small smile of amusement adorned his features as he spied the “Santa Fe Public Library” lettering above the entrance to the conference centre. Try as they all did, no nation in the wasteland seemed able to fully cast off the lingering grip of the old world. Clambering up the steps, Gladstone stopped in the main foyer as he was greeted by a single woman and a number of guards. 

“Salve,I am Hannah of New Canaan. Welcome to Santa Fe on behalf of my husband, Caesar Lucius. And welcome to our home, please make yourselves comfortable inside.”

Following the wife of Caesar to the man himself, Gladstone glanced around, seeing that he was the first to arrive, he decided to dive straight in. Clicking his heels together, Gladstone gave a small bow towards both Lucius and Hannah, before standing straight, speaking as he did so.

“Your imperial majesties, I thank you and your citizenry for the warmth of your country towards mine. The journey here was most enjoyable, truly has the Legion wrought a marvellous civilisation from the anarchy that came before. If it pleases mighty Caesar, I would present gifts to you as befitting of such hosts.”

Gladstone turned, ushering forwards a squire who promptly opened and presented a chest towards the two monarchs, or at least the monarch and his consort.

“I bring gifts of fine furs, cultural works and fine jewellery from my people to you.”

The squire set the chest down, before bowing, stepping back and leaving, Gladstone talking to Caesar as this went on.

“As I see that I am the first to arrive, might I be presumptuous, and enquire as to any matters you might wish to raise with the western brotherhood? Might I suggest an exchange of ambassadors and perhaps the establishment of a trade agreement between our civilisations? In additions to any other matters Caesar wishes to raise with my nation.”