AN: I don't own Fallout or Halo. They belong to Bethesda and Bungie/Microsoft/343 Industries respectively.

Chapter Ten

0214 HOURS, JULY 23, 2545 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE), PLANET EARTH (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE) \ STATE OF ARIZONA

Kilo had managed to evade the roving Legion patrols on their journey back, making good progress despite travelling only at night, and were now perched on the same ledge they had watched Jack turn the top of Hoover Dam from a peaceful and uneventful crossing into a body-strewn explosion.

'So, how are we going to get across that?' Jack whispered, nodding at the distant power plant.

There were twice as many roving guards, all of them armed with shotguns and submachine guns no doubt loaded with armour piercing rounds, and dozens of lights up and running, turning the road bright as day. That would make getting across that bit more difficult.

'We swim?' Scott suggested, glancing at Lake Mead.

The legionnaires seemed to be focusing solely on the road, not the water, but there was always the possibility of it being a ruse, that they had trained spotters concealed in hidden positions watching for disturbances on the surface. Kilo could minimise the splashes they made, even go underwater if need be, but their armour only had seven minutes of air and with Jack's arm broken, they'd have to go slower than usual. If there were guards watching the water, they'd be sitting ducks if spotted.

'No chance.' Joan said. 'Too far, even under good conditions.'

'And going across the Dam would be just as difficult.' Claire added. 'No shadows, no obvious breaks in their patrols. We might be stuck on this side for a while.'

'Maybe.' Scott said, looking at the Mojave side of the Colorado River. Moore would have consolidated her hold over Nipton and Primm, meaning over the past month, there would be a sizeable garrison stationed nearby. And with the NCR set on recapturing Vegas, they would be sending their very best backed up by everything they have. In an ideal world, that would mean tanks, aircraft, artillery and orbital support.

The NCR didn't have any of that barring a few scavenged trucks and maybe one or two ancient tanks. That being said, Scott had heard one officer talking about an artillery company being scraped together.

He quickly thought of a dozen plans before settling on one.

'Or, we're going to walk across with virtually no Legion opposition.' He said, activating his COM system.

'And how are you planning on doing that, boss?' Jack asked. 'The Legion isn't about to let us just walk across the Dam however we please. I think they're going to have other ideas.'

'I know.' Scott said, searching for the correct frequency. 'But, I think it's time we had an encore of Eeyup. Only bigger.'

Jack stared at Scott long and hard. 'You do realise we have no explosives left whatsoever. Nor do we have the time to set them if we had any.'

'Yes.' Scott said. He found the right channel and quickly began broadcasting on it. 'NCR Army High Command, this is Spartan Fireteam Kilo requesting status on any artillery units near Hoover Dam. Over.'

The rest of Kilo exchanged nods, silently agreeing.

'Diversionary bombardment.' Jack said, nodding slightly then wincing as he disturbed his broken arm. 'Good plan. Where you going to direct them to drop the bomb? Boulder City? Nelson?'

'Close.' Scott said, refusing to say any more on the matter.

'Fireteam Kilo, this is NCR Army High Command.' A nasal sounding radio operator said over the COM. 'Authorisation code Radscorpion-Whiskey-Five-Two-Gecko-Eight. Please state proper counter signal.'

'Deathclaw-Victor-One-Niner-Cazador-Six.' Scott said.

'Counter signal accepted.' The operator said. 'Artillery units operating in your area are minimal but we'll prioritise whatever you need. Please state intended target and bombardment level.'

'Target is Hoover Dam surface road.' Scott said, earning several confused questions from Kilo. 'Bombardment level is moderate and continuous, until cease fire order from myself is given.'

There was silence from the other side of the COM.

'Please re-verify intended target, Kilo-One.' The radio operator said after several stunned seconds. 'It sounded like you said Hoover Dam.'

'I did.' Scott said. 'My team is pinned on the wrong side of the Dam. We need you to suppress enemy forces long enough for us to get across.'

More silence came from the radio.

'Target confirmed, Kilo-One.' Eventually broke through. 'Bombardment of Hoover Dam will commence in T-Minus three minutes.'

'T-Minus three mikes.' Scott repeated. 'Acknowledged, High Command. Kilo-One, over and out.'

'So we're not going across facing Legion guns and blades, but NCR high explosives coming in from above.' Jack said slowly. 'Are you sure you didn't hit your head when we jumped off that cliff?'

'I'm sure.' Scott said, patting his teammate on the shoulder. 'But, if you think back, I said no Legion opposition. I never said anything about the NCR.'

'True.' Jack said. 'Well, let's get it over with. We've got less than three to get into position before things start going boom.'

'Which I'm sure will be a fun thing to experience.' Claire said as Kilo shuffled away from the ledge and sprinted for the road that led over the Dam into the Mojave Wasteland.

0223 HOURS, JULY 23, 2545 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE), PLANET EARTH (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE) \ ATOP HOOVER DAM

'What on Earth made you think this was a good idea?' Joan shouted over TEAMCOM, barely audible against the near constant detonation of artillery shells as they came into contact with the Dam's hardened surface, shaking the ground violently and throwing up massive plumes of dust and shrapnel.

Kilo was around a quarter of the way across the Dam, sprinting from cover to cover and hoping that a shell didn't land directly on top of them.

'I never claimed it was a good idea!' Scott yelled back, staggering as the ground seemed to lurch beneath his feet. 'I'm actually starting to regret it now.'

'Oh, really?' Jack said, sprinting past Scott. 'Which part would that be? The use of HE shells as a smokescreen or trying to run through it without getting your head blown off?'

'Which part do you think?'

A nearby detonation threw Jack several metres backwards, slamming the young Spartan into a wall. He shook it off and was up and running again in seconds, a noticeable limp accompanying his step.

Scott quickly revised his plan, spotting a nearby door set into the base of one of the towers lining the Dam.

'In there.' He shouted, dropping a waypoint on the door. 'We'll go through the power plants.'

'Why not just call off the bombardment?' Claire asked as Kilo converged on the wooden door, barging through it and descending down the sole ladder beyond into the Dam's lower levels.

'I don't know.' Scott said. Overhead, the shells kept coming down, each impact shaking loose dust and the occasional piece of concrete. 'I didn't think to.'

Kilo drew their rifles and headed for the western end of Hoover Dam, encountering dozens upon dozens of legionnaires who had sought sanctuary from the bombardment, only to be cut down by the Spartan team as they blazed a trail through them, leaving their broken bodies behind.

The close quarters worked to Kilo's advantage, bunching the legionnaires up for the Spartans to gun down with massed fire, and any who tried to engage them in hand to hand combat was quickly killed. None of them could keep up with the enhanced speed and strength Kilo possessed.

Even so, Scott made sure Jack stayed clear of the melee combat, mindful of his broken arm.

Soon, Kilo, covered in blood and dust, emerged from the visitor centre ten minutes after diving into the relative safety of the interior. They orientated themselves and sprinted for the Mojave as Scott called off the artillery.

0300 HOURS, JULY 23, 2545 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE), PLANET EARTH (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE) \ MOJAVE WASTELAND

Kilo slipped into an abandoned petrol station sitting on the side of the highway, shutting the door and propping a crate against it. The box wouldn't stop a determined person from getting in but it would give the Spartans enough time to grab their guns.

'Alright.' Scott said, putting his rifle on the floor. 'Let's see what the damage is everyone.' He peeled off his helmet to reveal a bloodied nose and a prominent bruise on his forehead, easily visible against his pale skin.

'Mighty respectable.' Jack said as Scott used a rag to clean off some blood. 'But let me show you how it's really done.'

Kilo let out a collective wince as Jack took off his helmet. One eye was swollen shut and the other was surrounded by a nasty looking bruise, ditto his nose with a trail of blood coming from each nostril, reaching past his lips and down his chin.

'And that's just my face.' He said, wincing as he used the rag after Scott to clean his face. 'I'm betting my body is even worse.'

'We'll get some proper medical attention when we get back to NCR territory.' Scott said. 'All of us.'

Claire had a swollen lip and black eye but was otherwise unharmed, with Joan sporting a swollen ear on top of a bruised cheek.

Overall, Kilo was still in fighting shape.

'Primm isn't too far away.' Scott said, recalling the crude maps shown to him by the NCR of the area. 'We can be there inside of a day if we're cautious. Less if we're not.'

'I'd vote for cautious.' Jack said, donning his helmet and blocking his plethora of wounds from sight. 'The Legion will probably put two and two together and guess we got across the Dam just now. I reckon they'll send all manner of unpleasantness our way to rectify that mistake.'

'I'm putting my hand in for the slow option, too.' Claire said. 'Our ammo levels are pretty low. We've only got four mags each, including the ones in our guns. No way we can go through a running gun battle with just that.'

'I'm for the slow route as well.' Joan said.

Scott nodded, slipping his helmet into place. 'Slow it is.'

1205 HOURS, JULY 24, 2545 (MILITARY CALENDAR) \ SOL SYSTEM (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE), PLANET EARTH (ERROR/SOURCE UNRELIABLE) \ MOJAVE WASTELAND

'Jesus, son.' Matt, a middle aged doctor with a pot belly, said as he examined Jack's X-rays. 'You sure took one hell of a beating.'

The four Spartans had managed to make it NCR lines and to one of their First Aid stations, removing their armour for the medical personnel to get a look at their bodies. It had shocked them to see the members of Kilo were no older than fourteen and already covered in a mass of healed wounds, some earned during training and some during the fall of their homeworlds.

'I've been worse, Doc.' Jack said as a nurse applied a cast to his broken arm while another tended to his swollen eye. 'Takes more than being tossed about by artillery to stop me.'

'Or knock some common sense into you.' Scott said as he used a mirror to clean away the last traces of blood from his nose. It throbbed now and then but was otherwise undamaged.

'You were the one who decided to try and run through an artillery bombardment.' Jack replied.

'Not my finest moment.' Scott murmured. 'But at least we're back in friendly lines.'

'Yeah.' Matt said, scrutinising the X-ray closely. 'Huh. Looks like you've got some unusual bones here, Spartan. They're denser than what I usually see in people. Must have taken a pretty big impact to break them.'

Yeah, I fell twenty metres.' Jack said as the plaster cast was finished off. 'We were cornered by the Legion and had nowhere else to go.'

'Twenty metres?' Matt turned around to look at Scott and Jack. 'All four of you fell twenty metres and the worst injury you sustained was a broken arm and two fractured ribs?'

Scott nodded. 'We had some procedures done to us to boost our physical abilities. Denser, more resilient bones was one of them.' He put the mirror down and picked up a canteen of water, taking a long sip of the lukewarm contents.

'And you're all just kids, right?' Matt said, nodding his head in the general direction of Joan and Claire as they were seen to by another doctor. 'No older than fourteen?'

Scott nodded again.

'Christ on a bike, who in their right mind does this to a bunch of kids and sends them out to fight?'

'That's classified.' Scott said.

'Brotherhood? Enclave?' Matt asked.

This time, Scott shook his head.

'Alright, then.' Matt set Jack's X-ray down and checked over the cast, nodding happily that it had been set correctly. 'Well, ethical choices aside, you two are fine. I'm going to recommend you take at least four weeks down time to properly recover. I know High Command is still moving troops here ready for the big push so it'll be a while before they're ready to move. Use the time to get some rest.'

'We will, doctor.' Scott said as Jack got up from his chair, waving the nurse tending to his eye away. 'Come on, Spartan. I think we should have a word with the gunsmiths and see about getting the Mule back.'

'Eeyup.' Jack said, nodding in agreement. 'Claire will be happy to see it back.'

'Somehow, I doubt she will.'