Chapter 4: Cottonwood Cove

Raz awoke to the gentle sound of water moving lazily along. Blinking his eyes, he tried to let them adjust to the bright light in front of his face gradually. It wasn't until he tried to shield his eyes with his hand that he realized he was bound by his wrists and feet.

Turning his head to the right, he noticed he wasn't the only one in such a state. Several of his soldiers lay next to him in varying states of binding, and all of them were aboard what he believed was one of the rafts the Legionnaires had taken to shore. There were significantly less Legionnaires now to fit all of the NCR on the watercraft, but a quick survey of the water around them told him that the other rafts had his people on them.

Gripping large staves and pushing their way down the river, the Legionnaires were silent as they worked. It was an odd sort of peacefulness that hid the underlying danger of the situation.

Wherever they were headed, Raz and his people were most surely going to be slaves, or worse, dead. NCR prisoners were not uncommon in a Legion attack, but more often than not, it wasn't worth the trouble to fight a trooper and convince them to lay down and be captured. There were enough examples of that back on the beach where Raz and his people made their stand.

It had to be past midday by the height of the sun. Its location also meant they were going...South?

Why South? What's down there?

Despite his confusion, Raz tried to analyze the situation accordingly. He was, after all, the commanding officer here. For the sake of those under his command, he needed to be the most informed. Their fear and confusion would break them and if he couldn't rally them, it would be all over when they arrived wherever it was they were going.

Twisting on the floor, he saw a Legion soldier lazily pushing the raft in-time with the rest of his comrades. Unsure if he would be hit if he asked questions, or if he would get a response at all, Raz sat there for a moment just watching the Legionnaire work.

Under normal circumstances, if another human stared at someone else for this long, the object of the staring would either become uncomfortable or angry. Either Raz's height on the ground or due to the fact that the Legionnaire didn't care about him, the man didn't seem to notice the eyes fixed intently on him.

A shout down the river seemed to rouse the man's resolve as he began to work harder at his station. Raz saw that the rest of the Legionnaires, as well as those on other rafts began to do the same.

Another shout, this time it seemed to come from above them. Twisting and wriggling on the planks of the raft, Raz tried to find the source of the noise. After a few moments, he spotted a man perched on a cliff high above the river, waving to the men on the rafts. He was dressed in similar armor, if a little lighter and less constricting. A lookout or scout.

We must be getting close to our destination he thought.

Several minutes passed and the men propelling the rafts began to struggle with the shallowing water. Moments later, pairs of the Legionnaires leapt from the rafts to help land them ashore. The jostling of the craft rolled Raz forward and before he could stop himself he fell overboard and into the water.

Bound and tied, he could do nothing but sink to the bed of the river. His futile struggling and thrashing only served to make clouds of bubbles underneath the surface. A few feet away were the legs of a Legionnaire wading through the water, clearly not interested in saving him.

Despite his poor eyesight underwater, he tried to kick out at the man's knees. He must have struck home because he felt something solid connect with his foot. A few moments later strong hands breached the water and pulled him up roughly.

Sputtering and coughing up the lake from his lungs, Raz tried to take deep breaths. It didn't help that the Legionnaire holding him up by his vest cracked him across his face. Dark spots popped in his field of vision, either from lack of oxygen or from near concussion.

"These NCR idiots make me laugh," spat the Legionnaire. "Didn't know he couldn't swim when his hands were tied up." Another Legion soldier reached below the water and gripped Raz's ankles. The two men tossed him onto the rock-strewn beach, the small stones cutting into his uniform and skin.

His roll was stopped suddenly, causing more cuts into his left arm where he was supporting his weight. The foot, which was what had stopped him, pushed him roughly onto his chest. His wet skin was now plastered with dirt and grime from the beach.

A tall man, dressed in full Legionnaire armor stared down at him through mirrored frames. A helmet topped with colored feathers that rustled in the wind adorned his head. Even though his face was covered, he could tell the man was grinning wickedly beneath the cloth that was over his mouth. Raising one knee up, he brought his foot down on Raz's face, and it was dark again.

Another foot woke him from his unconscious state. This one greeted him in his stomach. Instinctively doubling over in pain, Raz coughed and groaned. His gasping and wheezing brought dusty air into his lungs, which caused a choking fit that was almost worse than the kick.

"Get up, slave!" This foot raced to his back and the sharp pain in his muscles caused him to spasm. "UP!" The voice came from above and rasped the words out at him.

As Raz attempted to scramble to his feet, two pairs of hands gripped under his arms and helped him stand. Looking on either side of him he saw two of his soldiers, dressed in rags and covered in cuts and bruises.

Finally getting his legs steady underneath him, Raz saw that he and his soldiers seemed to be in a drill square in the midst of a complex of tents and small buildings. Each man and woman was dressed similarly, but spaced in a circle around them were dozens of Caesar's Legion. Each guard had a small blade and a firearm ready for use.

"Now that you maggots are all awake, it's time for your orientation." A chuckle rippled through the men in Legion armor as the man who had struck Raz began to speak, casually pacing in front of the NCR prisoners. He was dressed in full Legion regalia with a feathered helmet.

"You are all now slaves for the glorious army of Caesar's Legion. You will provide service, labor, fulfill any obligation that you are ordered to do and most of all," the man turned on his heel where he was and backhanded one of Raz's soldiers hard. "You will be expected to obey."

Raz's people rushed to help the fallen man, his lip busted open and bleeding profusely. The Legionnaire barked out at them and fired a single shot up into the air. All movement stopped and the new slaves looked to their driver, eyes wide and mid-motion.

"Do not help him. You are not a unit, a company or a squad anymore. You are slaves! You have no identity! No brotherhood! No friends! You belong to us." One of the soldiers who was helping their fallen comrade shook her head and resumed her attempts. The slave master stepped forward once and shot the stricken man straight in the chest with his pistol.

The young woman stared at the bullet wound, slowly oozing blood onto her fingers. Raz began to step forward to help calm her, but before he could she rushed at the Legionnaire, screaming in fury, fingers outstretched for the man's throat.

Stepping back deftly, the man avoided her onslaught as if she were a child. Raz knew the woman well, she had been under his command for some time now and that was because she was a fierce fighter. But despite her skill, the Legionnaire was far better.

Some of the others assembled tried to step forward to aid her, but the resulting sound of guns being cocked and leveled stopped them in their tracks. The Legion could always get more slaves, and they wouldn't have to kill all of them, just enough to scare them into submission and to convince them that any sort of struggle was pointless.

As the woman kept swiping and punching, her target continued to evade and dance about her. The cat and mouse game before them all was becoming sad and pitiful. She was tired, breathless, and her attacks were no longer even close to the mark.

Eventually, she threw herself at him in one last ditch attempt, her body falling limply into the dust after a short time in the air. She looked up at the slave master with eyes that could light brush into an inferno. Her hatred palpable. As he stepped forward, she spat on the ground at his feet just before he leveled his pistol, and placed a round in her skull.

Seeing someone die in battle is common for any soldier. The struggle for survival and death define war. But watching someone die like this, like an animal, was sickening. Raz's upper lip twitched in a sick grimace and many of his comrades looked away. If they could avert their eyes, the pain might not be so bad.

Stepping on the woman's lifeless body, the Legionnaire ground his heel into her back. "I'm so glad that we've had this educational demonstration." His voice was calm, even-tempered, and almost soothing.

"You will be divided by gender, and then skill. You will work, or you will die." Taking a step off of the body and turning his back on the new slaves, he threw a shout over his shoulder as he left the assembly area.

"Welcome to Cottonwood Cove."