Chapter 2: Vulpes Inculta
Vulpes P.O.V
Degenerates like him should be hung upon the cross. Picking off good soldiers from half a mile away is pure cowardice. Still, what could I expect from someone working for the NCR? Pack of over-optimistic fools.
I know why he is there, though; the backwater profligates in Novac are afraid. Trembling in their shacks, they fear the Great Caesar. They are like Radroaches – festering in the dank vaults, living lives of degradation and sin, scattering once the light is thrown upon them. We are that light – that burning, piercing, pervading light.
They don't understand that the Legion, though brutal in its' methods, are ultimately a force for good in New Vegas. We give the deserving what they deserve and the undeserving a purpose in life. We take the savage and make them civilised to serve their superiors. We punish the evil and we refine the wasteland. We are change. The people in Novac don't want change—they don't want to lead civilised lives or face judgement for the crimes they committed. Like frightened animals, they run squealing to the NCR, who grant them to highly trained snipers to protect them.
Novac sleeps easy, but not for long. After all, the light from daybreak has to come eventually…