Disclaimer: All the characters from the "Magnificent Seven" T.V. series are property of Trilogy Entertainment, The Mirisch Group, MGM Worldwide.
It wasn't easy being a genius you know, much less a military genius.
In an age where war left a bitter aftertaste in bodies and horror, men were less eager to find a cause in which they could risk their lives for glory and bravery. The last war still lingered fresh and unpleasantly in their minds. The war of the states as it was known now but was fast being termed in schoolbooks as the American Civil War had left a scar upon the minds of many. Almost sixteen years after its end, the memory of all that carnage remained like a nightmare one wakes up from in the morning, leaving impressions of disbelief that it had actually happened in reality and created such organised destruction on so national a scale. Its results had clearly marked the country by the scores of southern plantations now owned by northern carpetbaggers, the slow restoration of the South and finally but most prolifically, the new under class that had been created in the wake of the Emancipation Act.
Across the land of the free, a new dissent was on the rise, slowly and surely under the burgeoning economic growth that came in post-war restoration. They came from across the sea to build railways and find fortune, only to learn that they were considered by the colonial masters of this land as barely human. They appeared as free men, eager to take their place in a free world only to learn that freedom and tolerance were two different things and to have one was worthless without the other. They also came from old traditions, steeped in ideas of how things ought to be and had bled and fought hard to preserve that way, only to learn in defeat that they had to accept the conditions of the victors. Some did not come from anywhere but had rather always been. They lived in symbiosis with the land for as long as they existed until the new arrivals came and began pushing them from what was always theirs. The voices were many and they were different, in creed, colour and doctrine. Not one could look at each other and say that they were brothers but were nonetheless bound together by their passionate hatred.
Hannibal Alexander Julius saw that as an untapped resource, almost like the black gold that lay under the soil of most of the Americas, undiscovered and waiting its time. He too, had a voice with grievances of his own but his was not to join the masses that made the others but rather to lead them to their own respective promise land. He knew this from the day he had born and those who had sired him, fed the belief until it became obsession that was ingrained in every part of his persona. He was born to one of the most illustrious military families, with a father who had died at Mexico and mother who thought him to be the master of her world and raised him under the belief that everyone else ought to think so as well. Thus the road to greatness was paved with successes and defeats and when the great war of the states had come, Hannibal had been eager to count himself as one of its most able commanders.
His victories in the battlefield had come at a price. Of course, it was one that he was most willing to pay because he was a military genius and any great commander understood that no victory could be completely bloodless. Wars were fought so that men died and by their deaths, upheld the cause for which they were willing to lay their lives. In his war, Julius understood this all too well and was willing to sacrifice his men for the greater good, believing without doubt that they understood that this was the nature of warfare and their sacrifice would not be in vain. He saw many faces come and go. They joined eager to defend the rights of the Union and died with the uncertainty of whether or not so much blood ought to be shed for any ideal.
For Julius, it mattered little to him whether the Union had to be preserved. He had no particular interest in whether or not Negro slaves should be free or not. His only concern was the battle and his coming elevation to godhood in the conflict that allowed him to prove his prowess on the field. During the four years of his commission, he had the highest casualty rate of any commander in the Union Army. However, his battles were almost always won and so he remained, secretly admired by his enemies. As the Union onslaught continued towards the South, Julius began to consider what came next after the war was done being fought. He expected a promotion to at least Colonel, although in his opinion, his victories earned him the rank of General.
It would have been that way if it were not for one incident that changed everything.
The lieutenant was trouble the moment Julius came across him. The young man heralded from fine military pedigree. His father was a general and a hero, spoken of in hushed tones by those who knew of him and heard the stories of his valour. The young man who joined his platoon was nothing like that. He was infantry, given a battlefield commission that saw him become a lieutenant. He watched Julius and said little but behind those penetrating blue green eyes, Julius immediately sensed the enemy. When the young man chose to spoke, he opposed almost all of Julius strategies in the field. He had even dared to call his commander a murderer.
In the last days of the war, they had been forced to take a hill and Julius was determined not to stain his record with even one failure. The men understood this and were determined to see his dream realised but the lieutenant had secretly connived and schemed behind his back. Taking command of his platoon, the usurper had stolen his victory from him and taken the hill. Julius was not about to let anyone take what was his and reacted accordingly. What he had done should have been recognised in any military court as the appropriate action for an act of mutiny. Unfortunately, the lieutenant had friends and a powerful father who saw to it that what Julius had done was not punishment but rather vengeance.
For such a crime, they locked him away. They locked him away like he was a common criminal. They strove to hide the star of his destiny inside a cold, dank military cell and brand him with the appellation of murderer even though his victim had survived and had been promoted for his act of deceit. A normal man would have accepted his fate and allowed himself to be beaten by the government he had wished to service with his greatness. However, Julius was better than that. Despite his connections, Julius was unable to extricate himself from his situation but was able to improve his position in it. Monthly stipend paid to guards ensured that he was treated well and the requirements necessary to one of his station was made readily available to him, smuggled in by another well paid lackey on staff.
For almost a decade, the incarceration of Hannibal Julius continued until those who mattered began to forget that he even existed. Once he became someone who was just another number, Julius made his move. Payment of substantial amounts made to certain guards saw him liberated from his prison. His escape and that of his associate, Mr Bellison hardly raised much of an eye when it took place and after the obligatory search, Julius found that he had slipped from the minds of those who found his entire escape an embarrassment. With his newfound freedom, Julius had no intention of forgetting the destiny that had been abruptly interrupted thanks to the deceit of one man. Instead, Julius used the knowledge acquired from those years trapped in the dark to make new plans.
He needed a new army. One who would serve only one master.
He knew where to find them. During his incarceration where there was little to do but pass the time as the world went by, he had listen to the voices trapped with him. He listened to their anger and their causes, their petty hatreds and their dreams of something better. There were so many of them diverse in their dislike but united by their passion for it. Julius realised that these were the soldiers of his new army. All he had to do to gain their unswerving loyalty was a promise of giving them all what they wanted when he was done with his grandiose plan. Charisma had always been his gift and when spoken in places devoid of hope, its effect was great. They believed him. They believed that when it was all said and done, they would have their own patch of paradise, each one of them.
He called his new army, the Citadel.
With Bellison at his side, Julius made up for the lost time spent in prison. He had a fortune in a family inheritance still at his disposal and he began his recruitment, speaking often in secret places in the dead of night. Most who heard him were pliable already and were eager to join. Those who did not knew better than to speak of what they heard. The dead bodies of those who did not keep their silence were plentiful. Julius was no fool. He knew that uniting such disaffected groups would raise concerns and thus he conducted his business covertly, away from the ken of those who might harm his fledgling movement.
The organisation grew exponentially. Its true numbers were a closely guarded secret, privy to Bellison and himself only. Julius was not surprised when recruits began seeking him out. Some were foot soldiers but others were cogs in vital systems in government, able to offer information that proved extremely useful to him and his strategic planning. His dream was nothing less than the dissolution of these United States, to break it up into a thousand pieces in order to portion it out to those he thought deserving while he sat in authority over them all. His power base grew and finally, he sought to make his move by attacking a part of the country that was starting to gain prominence.
The West was opening up and with new settlers and new opportunities arising, it did not serve Julius purpose for it to become commercially viable and he needed a chilling demonstration of power. It was through sheer bad luck that his first venture took place in the Territory, in particular near a collection of New Mexican towns. Vengeance was never on his agenda but when Julius discovered whom had captured a vital store of nitro he had planned for grander use, Julius wondered if his star was not demanding that he take care of unfinished business.
The lieutenant that had ruined his military career, Chris Larabee was now a lawman in the Territory. In all honesty, Julius still had no desires for vengeance even after he took Larabee's wife hostage. He had taught himself to think past such petty needs. Julius was not a vengeful man. He shed blood out of necessity and the kidnapping of Larabee's wife would keep the lawman's attention out of his business until everything was ready to proceed. It should have worked and would have if not one random element that had the power to bring the entire edifice of his machinations down in fiery conflagration.
A wild card named Ezra Standish.
Ezra Standish had played him well. In retrospect, Julius supposed it was partly his own fault. He had found the smooth talking, southern gambler attractive. Unfortunately, hidden under all that charm was an idealist who believed in traditional justice for all and had sworn allegiance to the hated enemy, Larabee. For Julius, who often thought women to be too frivolous to understand what genius he had, men like Standish were rare. Julius had allowed him into the organisation, had shown him secrets, expecting to feel fully reciprocated for his trust with affection and heat but instead had been tricked into exposing his plan with nothing more than one passionate kiss. Julius could not deny the man was amazing even though it was obvious later on that his inclination was only for the ladies. Still Julius wondered what he would be like if shown a different expression of love making.
He wondered about it a great deal.
Ezra Standish became his obsession albeit one he kept a good reign on. He wanted the man, knew that there was unfinished business between them that would see Standish his one day but he would not jeopardise himself again by ever believing that Standish would see him as anything but the enemy. Thus he kept his plans for Standish and the Citadel separate. When the time came, he would use one to the other's advantage but for the time being he watched. He placed agents in Standish' midst and learnt all he could about the object of his desire. He was correct about Standish' true inclinations. Apparently the man had been attached for some time to a fiery beauty named Julia Pemberton, a creature of refinement very much suited for a southern gentlemen of Standish' ilk. His agents attempt to shatter the relationship told Julius just how strong it was when it endured.
He considered taking Julia but decided that he was done with stealing women after the disastrous kidnapping of Mary Larabee. Besides, when he took Standish, it would be without the coercion over a woman's safety. He had his seduction of Standish all played out in his head, the question of the moment, was when he would put it into effect.
However, the time was drawing close because he had a new plan. His agents were in place. His work of past months had come to fruition and his pawns were at the place he had spent months bringing them to. The Territory was once again the beachhead for his new order, the stepping stone from which he would roll the dice and watch his star rise.
Like Caesar before him, who had crossed the Rubicon with his army and captured the entire Roman world in the palm of his hand, Hannibal Alexander Julius would ignite the Territory and watch the rest of America burn.