"47… 48… ah fuck what's the name of… the number after… 49…" Max strained on, unwilling to waste any time when her push-ups were so close to being done. It's just that the more she progressed, the more she was starting to forget rather essential matters, like the numbers she was meant to count down. She'd blame the harsh sun, beating down on her even through the protection of the tent. Who in the world would want to live down there? But then she pondered about her superfluous thoughts and continued on. The single miscalculation, the slightest added weight even should that be a mere cap, would doom her to failure. "… FI-FUCKING-FTY!" Yelled Max, eager to get Emma's attention on her. The older woman was sitting on a chair, the upper part of her uniform tied around her waist like Max's. The black-haired woman smiled at her success and it grew slightly malicious when she saw the trainee subsequently drop to the ground. Thankfully, the little mattress below cushioned the fall quite nicely.
"Fi-fucking-fifty isn't a number, Maxxie! It looks like you're going to have to start again!" Max said nothing. To conserve her effort, she even slightly shifted her head to look up at Emma and glares at her. Emma seemed to pause very slightly at that but brushed it off with a quick laugh. "Wow, you're actually looking intimidating! Calm down, I'm messing with ya. You've passed the test. That doesn't mean you're free though!" The young woman closed her eyes, begging in silence for the training to stop now. Emma cared little for that and got up to swing the entrance of the tent wide open. "Context: The camp is under attack. You're pulled out of your sweet dreams by the sound of screams and gunfire. You grab your gun and rush out of your tent! Your friends are spotted fighting 100 meters in front of you. You need to reach them and repel the enemy."
"… Do you want me to shoot people?"
"Nah! Get up and run 100 meters forward and run back here. If you're too slow, the Legionaries will slaughter your squad and punish your slow ass by enslaving ya, so you need to get there fast!" Max tried to use her arms to push herself off the ground, but alas they were as sturdy as mere twigs. So she lifted up with her knees and pushed herself off accordingly, groaning at every step of the way. She'd like to use those legs in particular to kick Emma's ass, but there was training to complete and that'd get in the way. And to further encourage her while she was struggling, the improvised trainer had reached for a hidden weapon: A bottle of Nuka Cola, hidden until now. The soldier was holding it like those models in the old world ad, to better emphasize it. "If you win, General Oliver himself will gift you all the Nuka Cola left in the world." Max hurried out of the tent, motivated by both the reward and the knowledge that it was the final stage of the training. Her arms hanging limply by her side, Max crossed several soldiers and officers without so much as stopping, even if she knew that it was rather rude. So, as soon as she had completed her run, she turned around and lifted her arms to salute each of the officers that she'd initially missed.
McCarran was a big place, but the way forward was pretty straight and her speed and desperation made the trip a lot smaller than she thought it would. Almost before she knew it, Max ran back into the tent. Emma had gotten her a chair ready by that time, allowing her to sit on it and sigh. Her legs were as sore as her arms by now: Should the Legion or Fiends actually launch an impromptu attack on the place, she doubted that she'd be of any use in her current immobile state. Even reaching and holding that bottle was too much for her at the moment, something which Emma thankfully realized before placing down the bottle at Max's feet, waiting for her to gain the strength to lean down and grab it. Emma then grabbed a chair of her own and sat down, crossing her legs while looking at Max with a proud smile. The younger woman would love to return it, but she feared that the act of smiling would finish her off, so she didn't.
"You probably hate me right now, heh? It's just tough love, Maxxie. The more you work out like that, the more deadly you get," Emma spread her arms once, and spread them further after finishing her sentence. "Well it won't be obvious now, but a little while of this every day and you'll be fine. At least when I told of it, he approved only if it made you a true warrior."
"Hrngh… I'm not a wimp," Max defended herself with. "I beat up that Dixon guy pretty easily at least!"
"I could've beat Dixon at 14. He looks like the kind of guy who tests his products a bit too much. Speaks of how bad things in Freeside are if even the successful ones have trouble feeding themselves," The younger soldier slowly reached for her bottle and began to drink it. The radioactive goodness within couldn't be all that healthy for her, but it suddenly made Max feels like she could take on the world again. A single sip gave her back the energy to raise an eyebrow at Emma, to make her doubt clear even when she couldn't speak it out. "Heh, why the surprise? I was trained like that as a pre-teen. It was hell, I'll tell you. But it's necessary to-"
"-Survive the wastes, I know, I know," Max took another sip. "Your parents, they put you up to it?"
"Right. From the beginning, they knew I'd fly by my own wings someday. I protested at first but now, I can't thank them enough. I'd have died if I'd just walked into the wastes thinking that my wits or a big gun would be able to solve everything. Sometimes, you need to trudge through the desert for a while, or outpace somebody or have the strength to lift the big gun, to begin with! Elemental stuff, really. Shame exercises like these are rare in common training. It'd probably help those wimps outside with killing raiders."
"… If you were in charge of things, would you do that? Give everybody training and all of that stuff?" Emma rolled her eyes, amused at the question.
"Well, no shit. A lot of our colleagues are civilians in fatigues, not true soldiers. I've said that many times over, but we'd struggle a lot less with the Legion if we all had training. And shotguns. Good shotguns would help us out a lot there… but it's hard to use one. The recoil would crumble your spine for instance. So a sniper gun helps better at killing stuff before it gets too close anyway. But, later down the line, you could use a shotgun and cut a guy in two!" That looked pretty gruesome to Max, but after those fights in Boulder City and at the gates of McCarran, she'd grown a bit used to the violence. Not enough that she'd be unfazed at the sight of a man being cut down by a shotgun from close range, but the idea of the scene didn't bother her too much. That and she wasn't in the mood for Emma lecturing her should she show any sign of hesitancy or shock at the description.
"… Then why don't you use one? A shotgun, I mean. You look like you could handle the recoil." Max took another sip. Emma waited patiently before answering, seeming legitimately taken aback by the question. She reached for a bottle of Sunset Sasparilla kept for herself and took a swing of it. That particular action made Max frown a little, though she put that aside to avoid an argument.
"An assault rifle's still pretty good in my hands. Or even a revolver would do." Emma raised a finger and mimicked shooting with it. "I'm accurate and I can keep my cool up-close, whereas most other Privates don't. And if you ask, I already told ya why a shotgun wouldn't work too well for ya. You'd snap in half like a twig firing one!"
"Well, I kinda prefer being away from the bad guys. It's easier that way, right?"
"Heh, you can't always pick your battlefield. And the Legion's learned not to fight us on an open space because of that. Beware of a flank or another sniper targeting you," After tapping her head, Emma got up, her bottle still in hand. "You're gonna have to keep that in mind because we'll be stepping into Fiends territory today. They'll get to pick the battlefield, so you'll be likely fighting up close to make up for that. You're better off going at it with the rifle."
Max's eyes briefly widened. "Fiend terri… oh, right. To kill Diver… Driver Nephi or something, right? They all got those weird names…"
"Yeah. He's been a pain for us. He fights with a golf club where the others have flamethrowers or guns, sure, but that bastard moves with great speed and he doesn't mind being shot at. First Recon has taken a few shots at him but it's only ever convinced him to back off instead of dying," Emma shrugged and took another swing. Once done, she put the bottle aside, to Max's silent delight. "He's killed a dozen of us with that fucking golf club, by the way. He runs fast, uses the environment well and it's a fucking massacre when he takes even one good swing at them. Heard he's punted heads across miles or something."
"Yeah, it looks like he'd slaughter us both with one hand tied," Max shuddered. The way the guy was being described, he sounded like a mutant or something! No one could kill a dozen armed soldiers, terrain notwithstanding, with the mere use of a golf club. "Can't we just-"
"Nah, we can't ignore him. He's a big player and keeps the other Fiends in line, somewhat. Without strong personalities like him or the other leaders, they wouldn't have the smarts to attack patrols and set up traps. So if we ice him, we'll harm the Fiends a great deal and show the locals that you don't mess with the bear." Emma advanced towards Max, raised her arm, and slammed her palm down on her right shoulder. Had a tiny Cazador landed on Max's shoulder or something? "It's the way it goes, Max. We're in this to remove threats. As it happens, removing threats means shooting them a lot. And we need to do it before that bounty hunter guy can get his hands on him…"
The younger woman rubbed her shoulder with a pained wince as Emma untied her uniform to wear it over that plain white shirt of her. "You're awfully confident in that weird guy if you think he can kill Nephi, especially after that description you made of him…"
"I'm pretty sure that your friend's shy companion is the same guy who murdered these Khans at Boulder City. He sounds like a complete retard but the way he slaughtered them… Yeah, I think he and Nephi would kill each other if they fought. And that'd be neat for us all in the Mojave, but that'd be one less victory for the NCR. And besides, I want to take Nephi's head off myself." Emma gave that daring smirk at Emma, who finished her bottle of Nuka Cola with a regretful sigh. Time to move out, she guessed.
"Veronica doesn't sound like someone who'd hang out with a guy like that." She lightly protested. Emma didn't turn back but snarled as an answer as she left the tent.
"You've known that girl for minutes at best. Maybe she's bitchier than you think? Either way, don't think about her or the tall guy. Focus on Nephi and his pack of Fiends!" Now she turned to face Max, with a disapproving finger wage. "It'll be tougher than the Khans! So you're going to have to keep your wits about. I want you one-hundred percent focused on the fight, got it? If you see a Fiend, you'll shoot him dead and that'll be the end of it. No freezing up and no expectation that I'll sweep in to save you this time around."
"I did pretty well on my own against that female Khan," Grumbled Max, still reluctant to think back on the fight. She rubbed her nose, thankful that she could still even smell. "you can't act as if I'm a complete wimp anymore."
"It was a three-on-one, come on! You need… hm, yeah. I know what you need. Wait here!" Emma rushed back into the tent and, before Max could even proceed to wait, came out holding a large knife in her right hand. The young soldier backed off in fright, expecting to be stabbed in the stomach by the next second, but instead, Emma grabbed her arm and carefully placed the weapon's handle onto her palm. "Okay, so this little beauty here will give you more of a fighting chance in a fight. It's pretty simple to use too! If you ever mess up enough to be deprived of weapons and close to a Fiend, just pull it out and shove it into their skull. And only their skull! Anywhere else and they might be able to stab you back." The private gulped. Would she need to take on Driver Nephi's ferocious golf club with a mere knife? It was pretty large, like the ones a killer would wield in those horror stories of old, but she wasn't built for a fight up close!
"… Didn't you say I kinda suck up with my strength and general stamina?" Cautiously, because it was a big knife, Max placed the weapon on the right side of her belt and hoped that it wouldn't cut her leg while walking.
"You're quick and nimble enough! And besides, I'm not telling you to run at Nephi and hope for the best. That knife's a tool if you're in trouble. It's not much, but it raises your odds of stabbing your attacker in the throat or somewhere else vital," Emma swept at Max's throat and eyes, stopping short of landing the blow each time. "Anyway, c'mon now, let's go meet the team. We're not going to take Nephi's head for ourselves at this rate and I told Deacon you'd be a part of this!"
"S-so soon?! I thought it'd take…"
"Nah, Deacon's a man of action! He doesn't wait around and neither should we, so follow me already!"
Max agreed silently, concealing her fear with difficulty. Sure, Nephi was a threat, but shouldn't Rangers or those elite snipers be intercepting him and leave the rest of the Fiends to humble privates like them? Either way, Emma seemed dead set on that, so Max shrugged and walked after her friend, pondering on possible excuses she could use to bow out of the fight.
…
The "Anti-Nephi Squad", their name nobly bestowed upon them by Max's imagination, looked a bit less… elite than it ought to. There were soldiers like Emma, who had seen the wastes before and stood tall against the sun, and then she could see other privates like her. The bravest were imitating their more experienced colleagues on the battlefield but faltered before the might of the Mojave sun. Others hid beneath the shadows of tents and did some light trading while the Lieutenant wasn't looking, handing each other stolen sweets, cans of food, and all the good stuff, to give you the vitamins necessary to take on a gang of violent drug addicts led by a superhuman with a golf club. Their little operation was only possible because of Deacon's current predicament with what appeared to be Captain Curtis, a fair bit away from the crew. The rest of the troopers stood at that exact distance, perhaps out of respect, and Max was fully ready to respect that, but Emma didn't, approaching with Max in tow. As usual with Emma when dealing with a superior, she got very stiff before approaching and threw a silent glare at Max upon noticing that her posture was not shared by her.
The young woman promptly went stiff as a stick, already regretting everything about the meeting. From her perspective, it was akin to a small animal standing still in the presence of a much larger predator and patiently awaiting for it to notice their presence. Which Deacon did as soon as he glanced over Curtis's shoulder and looked at the duo. "Ah, private Varzi! If we succeed in this mission, I'll definitely be referring to you with a different grade!" he glanced over Max. "Oh, so you were serious about bringing in Doleetle… Do keep in mind who we're aiming for. This isn't a Freeside junkie."
"Men and women like us are forged on the battlefield. It's only natural I take Max to this fight," That same heavy slap on the shoulder. But this time, Max had two superiors staring right at her and enough time to prepare… Not that it mattered much. She didn't move, but she winced, and the leader of the little group only too easily noticed that. Max secretly hoped it'd get him to forbid her from going with the rest of them, but he preferred listening to Emma. "If she can handle Nephi, she can handle any Legionary. She won't get any stronger with mere exercises, too!" Then there was a pause, Emma obviously meaning to let her friend speak for herself.
"I-I hope that I won't have to handle Nephi," stuttered Max. Emma's right eye twitched ever so slightly. "But I've got a gun and I'll fill him up with lead… That'll probably kill him up, right?"
Curtis reached for Max's shoulder, abruptly remembered that Emma had just "struck" there and instead calmly patted her on the right one, unharmed as of yet. "I'm sure you'll be able to kill him up," He told her, with the mirth of a disbelieving yet encouraging parent. "Lieutenant Deacon is a good leader."
"Even a good leader won't do much if they're leading soldiers such as to battle," tempered Deacon. "Nephi's killed a dozen of us and escaped as many assassinations carried out by First Recon! What I need to kill him is weathered soldiers, who won't panic when the fight begins. The battlefield's also likely to be to their advantage, and that's a handicap that younger soldiers such as her won't do well against!"
"I've supplied you with Nephi's last-known location, you'll get to have the advantage of surprise on them," said Curtis, ignoring Max and Emma to focus on his interlocutor. "And First Recon will take care of any surroundings Fiends too, so there's no risk of an ambush. With your skilled leadership, opportunities to off Nephi will be ample."
The news did not seem to appease Deacon much. "Using First Recon to slay their cannon fodder… and take the fight to Nephi with common troopers? And to think that we used to have Hanlon guiding us…" Emma and Max stepped aside, letting the two men verbally duke it out. Or rather, to have their own fight, as Max discovered when her friend gave her a stern stare.
"Max, you blew it! What kind of soldier says something as "gee, I sure hope I won't get to fight the enemy"?!" Max felt ready to point out that Emma hadn't imitated her all that well, but it'd be safer to hear her out beforehand or pretend to at any rate. "You signed up to defend the NCR and its inhabitants from danger, Nephhi's a danger to the NCR and its inhabitants, so go defend them by blasting the shit out of him with your rifle! You've been in fights already! Why'd you keep dragging your feet?"
"All of that stress doesn't go away in one go, Emma! Look at how I ended up after the Boulder City fight!" Max gestured to her throat with her thumb. "Anyone would be hesitant before taking on the Fiends in their own territory, besides that!"
"Well, I'm not! We've got a plan, they don't. Stick to it and we'll win," Max prepared to protest, but Emma placed her hand in front of her mouth and closed her fist as if she was keeping her mouth shut. "You're progressing on becoming a woman of the wastes, Max. You're protesting right now, but when the fight will start, you'll be slaughtering these Fiends, I'm sure of it. That's why I'm not letting you go no matter what you say. You want a way out of this? Get up there, kill Nephi. Then we can celebrate later tonight."
"… If I die, I'm so haunting you." Said Max, after a brief pause. Emma smiled at that and left, eager to check on the troops. Max gave a weary sigh as soon as she was gone. How many times would they have had this conversation? But it wasn't quite the matter of violence that bothered the young girl. The Fiends were tragic yet vicious creatures, and Nephi was one of the worst of them. But what'd happen if one of them got lucky with their shot? Or managed to get reach the young soldier and overpowered her, as that Khan woman did? She flashed back to their position back in Boulder City, and how vicious that grip around her neck had been. Without that one soldier, her name would be on a grave. What's to say that it wouldn't happen again? It's one thing to take on the Fiends while at the edge of their territory, on a moving vehicle, it was another to barge in and assassinate a group of tough ones.
Max looked at her trembling hands for a moment, sighed, and did her best to stay still, trying desperately to overpower her fear. With Emma around, the chances were that Nephi would get shot in the head. Max would nab a few Fiends herself and put them out of their misery before getting back home, yeah… Freeside had been easy enough, right? She wasn't afraid. It's just one mission, she's expected to partake anyway. The army's made for that. Emma was right. She knew what she was in for, signed up anyway and now was the time to proceed. It was her duty as a citizen of the NCR to see that Nephi would be laying at the feet of the squad along with the rest of his gang. She wasn't afraid, because there was a general plan and veterans on her side. She wasn't-
"Oh hello Max!" the young soldier yelped in fright and spun on her heel to confront her enemy. As things tend to happen in such cases, she overdid on the rotation and spun around on a full circle. Only afterward did she realize her folly before timidly turning back to the woman who got the drop on her: Pvt. Morales, who looked mightily amused at Max's misfortune. "You're jumpy too, huh?"
"… A fair bit," it was good to see a friendly face, one closer to her own experiences too. "So we're both moving in on their territory, huh?" Max rubbed her left arm, a gesture that was soon imitated by Morales.
"Yeah… You'd think we'd be prepared for now but…"
"It's still stressful… But it's a part of the, huh, job. We take on drug addicts with big guns and big knives because it protects the weak and innocent or something like this," Max dropped her arms and shrugged her shoulders. "Or so would Emma say. Me? I've no idea what's about to happen," As she spoke, Max searched for Nolan amongst all the soldiers, but couldn't find him. She guessed he drew the longer straw this time again. "But Deacon and those guys captured a Centurion so we're safe, right? Fiends aren't that tough… I think I've killed a few! So if I do it, you could do it easily I bet"
"I-I heard Fiends get injected with so much chems that they don't even react to being shot at," Max's fake smile dropped. She was only realizing how nervous Morales truly was: Her gun was shaking like it wanked to crawl off her body and the caps that she carried were making somersaults in her pockets. It was a nice distraction at first, but the noise caused Max to hyperfocus on it, further annoying it. Morales could be yelling in her ear that she wouldn't hear it. "… I hear they drink blood to get stronger too."
"W-well they'll have to settle for theirs this time," said Max, satisfied with her retort. "Besides, you know how rumors go, how bad could it be?"
…
Max has had the privilege to see a few bad places in her short time in the Mojave. The giant insect-infested remains of once-proud Lake Ivanpah, the slums of Freeside, the destroyed panorama of Boulder City. But somehow, the ruins of Outer Vegas were far worse than all of them put together. The destroyed buildings were common enough that nobody bothered to point them out, but the Fiends had some details of their own to announce unwary travelers that they were heading into some dangerous territory. All over the place, wooden structures had been erected, salvaged from the fences or occasional homes found around the city. There, on these wooden symbols, the Fiends would put forth animal skulls, human skulls, or, less rarely, human bodies. Max was contemplating one from below, noticing his torn NCR uniform all too quickly. She wasn't familiar with torture and hoped that this, in particular, wouldn't change, but the man's various horrific injuries had to have been inflicted before he was put on this "cross". At the very least, they had stabbed a knife into his torso to tie him up to the wooden construction, so his suffering afterward had been most likely short.
A few of Max's fellow soldiers observed the corpse, likewise unnerved, but their older companions did not and kept trudging along. A wise decision: The ruins of Outer Vegas were excellent hiding spots for the Fiends, and even those junkies were smart enough to realize that. The slightest gap in the NCR squad's defense could be catastrophic for that reason, and so Emma took it upon herself to quickly bring Max back to reality with a quick whisper. "Max, check your fucking left!"
Max hunkered down and did as ordered, pointing to her left and sweeping right and left in case a baddie emerged. No baddie, but more of their victims were in sight: Whenever Max looked, there was death. Poor souls in NCR uniform or no clothes at all, laying dead against a piece of debris or impaled upon more of those wooden structures, sometimes surrounded by the corpses of dead Fiends. None of those bodies were old enough for the sun above to work its magic, but the smell was overpowering even with a face wrap. Max was quite surprised to see how… bad it all was. The Fiends were bad news, that was obvious for anyone, but until then she'd seen mere patrols sent to die. Young men and women, some probably a fair bit younger than her, equipped with guns they barely knew how to use. Most likely they didn't even know what they were doing until the very end. But those Fiends? Those were the real ones she guessed. The Khans used to be big threats to the Republic, and Max hated them for their part in the drug trade, but at least they lived in proper camps. The Fiends seemed content with living in absolute squalor: Those tall ruins, filled with corpses, dirty syringes, empty weapons, human wastes, and glasses shards? It was home to them. How could they accept that?
"… I'm seeing nothing left," Max said. A few fresher corpses were lying about, probably First Recon. She wasn't going to take a closer look anyhow: This place was making her sick. Freeside at least had illusions of being a proper city and the Followers were hard at work making it a better place. Outer Vegas? It'd take another two centuries to clean it up. Being hit by a bomb would only make it cleaner, at any rate.
The soldiers were moving in an orderly line. They weren't quite trying to be subtle, given the dozens of them involved, but they still cautiously advanced to fend off any traps or ambushes. Surprisingly, there had been none of the latter during their little escapade through the ruins, but she blamed it on the distant gunfire they could hear. Was it First Recon? Another squad perhaps? Veronica and her friend? Who knew at this point. It wasn't making Lt. Deacon and Emma any more serene. And Max adjusted her emotions on theirs if only a little. If they were worried, then so should she. Keeping the gun steady in her shaking hands and not firing at the slightest nearby movement was… a complicated endeavor.
"Stop," Deacon commanded, raising his fist to be seen by the others if he couldn't be heard. Emma and the others stopped instantly, the rest, including Max and Morales, took slightly longer. "… There's a couple of dead Fiends ahead. It looked like they were setting up for an ambush."
"I volunteer to make sure they're dead, Lieutenant," Emma quickly performed her salute. "Fiends likes to play dead like that. I'll put a knife to their throat to avoid wasting a bullet… But I'll need some help if it does turn out to be an ambush." No need for Emma to look at her: Max knew that she'd be sent to help her in that grim task. And protesting in the middle of Fiend territory would be the height of foolishness. So Max nodded instead. Deacon gave her a disbelieving look but didn't see fit to protest, likely for the same reason.
"I'll be going too." Said Morales, correctly anticipating that Max would be nervous about it.
"Me too." Said one of the older soldiers. And more would've probably spoken up if Deacon didn't jab his thumb in direction of the Fiends, soon putting an end to it. Max, Morales, Emma, and the nameless soldier –until she got a read on his nametag: He was called Hawkwood- all set out. The Fiends were luckily quite close, laying close to a massive wall with two windows on it, perhaps the remains of an old building. As the squad behind them hunkered down to anticipate an attack, Max and the others approached the Fiends carefully, looking down at the groung and back at the raiders to spot a trap or sudden attack. There were a few of the former laying around, made harder to spot by the rust and blood on them, but the Fiends were totally unresponsive.
Emma was taking the lead of the affaire, looking constantly and quietly signaling when a trap was in the way or not. Under her guidance, the team made it to the wall in a short time, and to the dead fiends slumping against it. "Holy shit…" Swore Hawkwood, dismayed by the spectacle. Max and Morales were quieter, for they couldn't find good enough words to express their repulsion at what had gone down. The Fiends weren't killed by violence or rival raiders: They'd passed away, or most of them had at the very least, from an overdose. Some have had quiet deaths in their sleep, others were likely awake and aware while passing on, as attested by the white fluid they vomited during their death. Those corpses in particulars were the most unnerving of all: It was how their eyes were still wide open even in death, staring gormlessly at that cheery blue sky up above. Even their dislocated jaws, caused by the sheer force of the puking… Well, they were creepy. But those blank eyes scared Max because she and Morales were convinced that, at any time, they could light up again and set on them.
It was upsetting to think this could've been Andrew's fate, had she been a little too late.
The Fiends had surrounded themselves with discarded containers, syringes, and bottles before passing on. The more she saw, the more Max remembered that the Great Khans had definitely sent some of those to these guys, and her sympathy over their fate at Boulder City found itself waning further. The sight of these dead Fiends bothered her a lot as well, but somewhat less so than before. Oh, it was still revolting. The sight and smell alone would haunt her tonight, but corpses weren't much new to her now. The average person of the Wastes saw those like, what, six times an hour depending on where they dwell? There wasn't anything new to seeing some poor guy or gal torn to pieces, poisoned, or beaten to death. It was a… way of life, and those bodies were there as a warning not to let one's guard down. Better them than me! She'd contemplate at brief moments. Brief, because that casual attitude with death still unnerved Max deep within. Also brief because there were a lot of other Fiends around, and they were definitely alive and angry.
"… The overdoses had to be pretty recent," Emma knelt close to one of the corpses and pulled a knife out. At first, Max thought she'd mean to finish off these poor souls when they were already in quite a bad state, but then she used the very tip of the blade to check the relative age of the liquid. "Else it would've dried up because of that sun," She paused and then did a quick slice on the neck of the Fiend. Hawkwood also slit the throat of his own Fiend. Max reached for her knife to do the same, but Emma and Hawkwood had taken it upon themselves to do their grim duty. Or they didn't trust the younger women to handle the job, which wasn't entirely accurate: While Max was at least conscious enough to grimace in disgust, Morales was stuck with a blank expression, her face pale as the moon. Max sympathetically reached for her shoulder.
"What's your suggestion, Em?" Max said, attempting to look unbothered while the two veterans completed their work. "They're dead, right? So let's go back to Deacon and… stop standing near these graves?" The black-haired soldier said nothing at first, her focus fully devoted to the bodies below. It didn't take long for Emma to crouch and swipe a weapon out of the little mound. A… energy rifle. In somewhat better state than the ones supplied to the Fiends near the gates of McCarran. At least it didn't look like it'd explode on them at the slightest touch.
"That's a model AER9 laser rifle. Barely charged, but you don't need to aim well to use those," Emma glanced at the rest of the weapons: Some advanced, others distinctly not. The most important discovery was a tiny black device at the feet of the group. It didn't look like a gun, but it wasn't a detonator either. Huh… "That's a talkie-walkie. I guess you all know what it does? Didn't think the Fiends could use those."
"Likewise, I assumed that tactics were a bit beyond their grasp. Those guys had to be scouts," Hawkwood explained. "They don't want us to flank. It's a good effort but it'll be inefficient as long as the Fiends remains… Fiends."
"You're right about that, but I feel we could go a bit further... Let's go past the Scouts and see if we can't get to Nephi or whoever's calling the shots," Emma dropped the weapons at hand and picked up her trustworthy revolver. "Put a bullet in his head or two."
"E-emma, I'm already nervous enough taking him on with a full squad, I'm not going to get any further when it's just the four of us together!" Max hurriedly got up and dusted herself off of any trace of dirt or worse, vomit. "Let's get back to the Lieutenant, alright? He'll tell us what to do." Max winked at her fellow soldiers, which seemed to get well enough after the initial bout of confusion.
"Right. We can't move on into their territory like that. Besides, we don't even know where they are."
"Oh, but I do," Before any attempt at stopping her could be made, Emma awoke the talkie-walkie, raising her hand to preemptively shut up everyone who'd be involved. The machine's counterpart, somewhere else, reacted quickly to the attempt.
Huh, Old World tech sure is practical!
"Eileen!" Said a male voice, slightly distorted by the statics and interferences. For a Fiend, he sounded very.. lucid, but that was more worrisome than anything. "If you're warning me about anything else than the mission, I'm going to put a cap up your ass. Don't talk to me again about your fucking-"
Emma didn't wait before responding: While the man was talking, she lightly stroked her vocal cords as preparation and swung as soon as she saw an opportunity not. "Keep it for the NCR dogs coming our way!" She snarled, almost startling Max. And startling Morales, but both Max and Hawkwood quickly covered her mouth to protect Emma's secret. ".. It's a bigger patrol than what we deal with. A dozen guys I think."
"… A dozen of them? Are you high again?"
"Fuck off, go and check that out for yourself!"
"… Fine." the man at the other end of the talkie-walkie answered. "Stay put in that wall and don't be seen. We're heading your way from the north of it. Don't. Be. Seen. Those guys can't aim for shit but it's still tough as hell to dodge it when they focus their fire. Catch ya in ten minutes, Eileen."
"Don't die on the way in, over," Emma put a quick end to the conversation, and didn't speak out yet: That was an old device, after all, so it was best to be cautious. Once she was sure that the conversation could not be heard, then she turned to the others, and they lowered their hands. "… He's totally not convinced, so let's head back to the boss. We've got less than fifteen minutes. Hell, maybe we've got two. Either way, we have to prepare." She pocketed the talkie-walkie, seeing some further use of it, and the scouts headed back to the rest of the unit.
"Prepare for what? F-for the maniacs you summoned on us?" questioned Morales. "Why'd you do this? We're hunting for Nephi, that doesn't mean we need to pick a fight with every Fiend…"
"… Well, they're in hiding and waiting for us. I guess that Emma wants to save us the trouble by bringing those guys to us and pulling an ambush? And then we'd interrogate the leader guy to know if they've got more of these and…" Morales glanced at Max, apparently distressed that the young girl did not team up with her to protest. The young Doleetle shrugged in answer. She thought it sounded stupid too, but obviously, Emma had a better plan right?
"Correct!" shit Max thought, even if she was glad to see Emma smiling at her again. "The territory is theirs. We need to take that advantage away from them. What better way to do it than drag them out of their hiding holes? Nephi's the target but the others could be troublesome to leave alone. They're… organized, well, barely," they glanced at the cadavers left behind. "… We need to take them apart methodically and know what's ahead of us. There can't be that many Fiends under Nephi's guidance, but an ambush would still be a pain in the ass. Like… see that AER9? It'll take a single shot to punch a hole through your unprotected body, and even a grazing blow can melt your skin, literally. We don't want to get into a firefight with guns like these. So what do we do? We ambush them back, and we don't allow them to even fire it."
"That's well and good but… a gunfight like that will draw the other Fiends in, and you didn't even bother consulting the Lieutenant about this too! Max, back me up here!" Max's eye twitched at the noise Morales was making: What if one of the locals heard this? She'd agree with the points she raised, that it was all imprudent of Emma, that the Lieutenant wouldn't like having to suddenly prepare for a fight and that the noise alone could lure more enemies, but that yelling was making her heart rate jump.
"I don't know. Huh… Hawkwood, what do you-"
"I think we should get over it and speak to the Lieutenant." He said, jumping over a trap. Max noticed he was now carrying that laser rifle on his back, having decided that such a weapon could see some use, limited as it was.
"Right. Morales? We'll talk more about this at McCarran if you will after I'll be done carrying your hide through this." Emma pointed at Morales, then moved her finger to point at… "Maxxie? Get over here. We're gonna find you a good spot to spit lead at."
"… What about the Lieutenant?" Repeated Morales, dejected.
"He'll be fine."
…
The Lieutenant wasn't fine.
"So, without consulting me, you've decided to lure the enemy over our position," began Deacon, sitting behind the destroyed shell of a car. "Giving me about ten minutes to prepare my troops for a gunfight when the mere mention of one would give them all a panic attack. For the sake of extracting information out of junkies who could barely spell their name if their lives depended on it. Private Varzi…"
"W-well…" said Emma, sheepish for the first time. "He could lead us to Nephi… and that's a baptism of fire for our younger troops. It'll prepare them for the big target. It gets easier killing after the first time and all." Max listened silently, keeping her gaze on that tall structure where "Eileen" was supposed to wait. She kind of missed her poor scoped rifle, left at her barracks at McCarran, but the binoculars gifted upon her by the Lieutenant compensated well.
"We know where Nephi is at. About four miles further east. If we wanted to get closer to him, we'd be able to do so by walking," Deacon grumbled. "… Our grades are there for a reason, private Varzi. I do appreciate independence in my troops, but do not make a decision in my stead. You'll do that when you'll be a Lieutenant with troops to lead on your own."
"… She wanted to do well, really, and they had those talkie-walkies so…"
"Private Doleetle, I want your eyes on the Fiends, not your ears on this conversation," Max sheepishly bowed out and looked around further. "You do have potential, Private Varzi, but don't let that get to your head. For all intents, you're a private. That means you take orders from me, not the other way around.
"I understand, sir." Emma switched back to her more official tone. Let it be heard that should my mistake claim the life of a single man or woman in this unit, I will promptly…"
"How about we don't let it get to that point?" interrupted Deacon. "Protect the others, that's your new set of orders, and-" He began to go on about the matters of keeping faith to your superiors and staying on guard, but Max applied his advice and looked out elsewhere. It was a wise decision because while his speech was inspiring but probably somewhat tedious, those Fiends slowly advancing amongst the ruins very much weren't. Secretly relishing the opportunity to shut down Deacon's speech, as he'd shut her down before, Max pulled back from her spot.
"Sir? Enemy spotted." She said, handing the binoculars to him and stepping back. Deacon immediately proceeded to check, cautiously going for her direction, and nodded in acknowledgment.
"Good work, Doleetle. Keep your eyes on the targets." Max grabbed the binoculars back and stepped forth to see what it was all about. The fiends walking their way were careful but less so than the soldiers. Perhaps because they knew the terrain better, they stuck to cover without crawling along. Those fiends were in good shape when put next to the absolute wrecks that were their weaker counterparts at the edge of their territory. Only a few had some muscles on, but the rest could at least carry themselves and walk on their own two legs without looking like they'd collapse at the sheer effort. They held their guns well, and most pointed the dangerous end away from any teammate. They had those blue tattoos over their bare bodies too. She couldn't tell the motifs, but it had to be a way for these Fiends to identify themselves from those of other groups, perhaps? At least the armor wasn't any different. A little bit more makeshift and intimidating for the mooks at least, and what she assumed to be the leaders of the pack were wearing armor that actually covered their bodies. One even had… a car tire around his left shoulder, huh.
Speaking of the leaders, one was thin and wore a red gas mask, with cracked lenses barely held together by glue and cheap tape. The second was somewhat taller and larger, allowing him to easily carry a … Max blanched: Was that a grenade launcher? "They have, huh, a grenade launcher I think."
"Well of course they do," Deacon sighed, weary. "I'm getting closer to kill the one with the grenade launcher. You'll disable the rest." Emma and Max alike saluted, and Deacon left his spot to approach. Even Max thought it wasn't the wisest of approach, but she suspected that he wanted to take the shot himself and not let a greenhorn soldier accidentally warn the Fiends of their position. The Fiends, upon arriving at their destination, surveyed the arena: They were east of the wall, which immediately made Max suspicious. Weren't they coming North? Had they caught up to it? The answer made itself clear soon enough when the Fiend on the right lifted that grenade launcher and lobbed an explosive projective the way of the wall, engulfing it in a great explosion before any of the NCR soldiers on-site could react. Already weakened by the years, the structure gave way upon being engulfed by the explosion, burying whatever hadn't been consumed by the explosion yet beneath tons of bricks and debris. Luckily, it would be a final resting place for nothing but a couple of corpses: Emma had insisted that no NCR soldier be placed upon the position, in fear of such an event. As it stood, she had her reasons to be justified.
Immediately after the blast, a few panicked soldiers leaped out of their cover to open fire, this, unfortunately, included Max, who popped out from behind the car and took aim for the briefest of seconds. Her decision had no thought behind it, and no greater guide beside a desperate instinct to survive, but few of her bullets flew past the larger Fiend, most lodging themselves into his torso or head instead. With a surprised scream, the man fell to the ground in a heap, done not only by Max's bullets but also by the stray shots fired by the others. The same rate of fire very nearly downed his ally were it not for his quick reflexes, allowing him to dive into safety. A few of his fellow Fiends were slower on the uptake, and for that, they too were cut down by a hail of bullets. Immediately after taking proper cover, the Fiends returned fire, except for what appeared to be the leader of the bunch. Seeing this, Max and her fellow privates fell back to their own covers, and most of them began to reload while the Fiends filled their surroundings with bullets. Some were accompanied by red flashes of light, lasers powerful enough to effortlessly drill through the thick concrete or metal on the way. Luckily, the Fiends' accuracy matched the NCR's, and those lasers flew into the sky without hurting anything bar a few clouds on the way.
"That was a good shot, Max!" Emma complimented her friend, looking up from her spot. "… Keep that launcher in sight! We can't let the other guy have it!" Max said nothing back and only nodded. Walking out of this alive was her only thought: Talking would be a waste of time, effort, and brainpower. Perhaps there was truth to Emma's earlier claims after all. The Fiends were much more coordinated, but perhaps they were a bit too much since they'd fire and reload at the exact same together. The troops didn't look too much better on that aspect, if only because they fumbled the reload. When Max popped back up from her position, only a few of her fellows and Conrad followed her lead. And their return-return-fire, unlike the initial burst, failed to take any of the Fiends this time. Abandoning any thoughts of piercing through the debris for now, but keeping an eye on them in case of a threat, Max aimed down near the fallen Fiend with the grenade launcher and found that his thinner fellow was crawling towards it, no doubt eager to turn that firepower against the soldiers. It'd be easy to kill him: The thought came to her with disturbing ease even. But the orders were to merely "neutralize" him, and so she shot the ground in front of him a few times, to get him to back off and send him scampering back.
She felt invincible, for the briefest moment… and then a few stray bullets impacted the hood of the car near her, and the young soldier immediately dove back to cover with a frightened yelp. Elsewhere, the other soldiers had finished reloading and took it upon themselves to continue the assault with another hail of bullets. Pinned down, the Fiends limited themselves to shooting back in small intervals, but the coast was kept clear for Emma to crawl her way to the Grenade Launcher. Aware that there'd be complications if she slowed down for the slightest of moments, Emma dove into the open field and performed a roll forward, acquiring the launcher along the way. Without waiting for the slightest moment, she held it up, pointed it at the vague direction of the Fiends, and let lose a grenade of her own. The projectile exploded before most of the raiders could attempt something to stop it, engulfing several of them in flames in an instant and sending the rest sailing forward. A few unfortunate raiders completed their aerial journey by landing on something sharp or durable, but their fellows weren't much luckier even after hitting the sand, for the soldiers of the NCR immediately filled their carcasses with too many bullets for even their chemed-up bodies to ignore. It took Max several seconds of shooting up a corpse as well before she stopped, aghast at what she was doing.
Some of the soldiers were smart or paranoid enough not to celebrate yet and scattered in the ruins to look for potential survivors. Max didn't and slowly walked to Emma, who stood in the middle of the commotion with a proud look on her face. She didn't bother reloading yet and carefully avoided looking down to not see the corpses at her feet. Debris or parts of them laid around the soldiers, burning as a result of the blast. "C-congratulations, Em."
"Wouldn't have been possible without ya, Max… and you, Lt. Deacon!" Emma immediately saluted at the older man, but Max didn't, a bit too shaken yet to consider military protocols. He appeared to have caught the sole survivor on the side of the Fiends, who was smart enough not to put up a fight. A few soldiers had gathered, keeping their guns pointed at the raider. They had that same vacant look at Max's: She doubted they would fire if he actually tried anything.
"At ease," he said, dropping the junkie. "You did good, Private Varzi. But that's a whole lot of bullets we wasted on these scums. The less ammo we have when Nephi's turn comes, the worse for us."
"Sir, I-" Emma was interrupted by the Fiend, not because he reached out for her or desperately tried to struggle free, but because he began to laugh.
"Oh good, he wasn't lying. You really were searching for Nephi! Had I know that it was you, I would've brought more friends along."
Deacon furrowed his eyebrows and walked over to the man. Max began to feel a chill running down her spine in anticipation of something incredibly ominous, and got closer to Emma in case of a sudden attack. She was almost terrified to see her friend be just as surprised as her. "Who's he?"
"He's the one who told us what route you take to get there, asshole," The Fiend snarled. "We had patrols and ambushes ready for you all along, but it looks like Eileen…"
"Eileen overdosed. Your defenses aren't really iron-tight now huh?" Somewhat irritated, Emma crouched next to the man. "You didn't get the original question. Who's he and how did he know the patrol ahead of time?"
"Probably the McCarran mole," contemplated Deacon. He stood in silence: The whole interrogation could lead to something much greater than Nephi's neutralization. "That guy is the reason why I take different patrol paths and use my own spies to look for matters in the Mojave, and it looks like you know his identity," with a wave of his hand, Deacon convinced Emma to stand aside and took a step on the Fiend's chest, leaning in to add some extra weight. "Tell us what you know about him."
"Who? Picus?" the Fiend giggled. "I don't know who he is! You could always ask Nephi…" The junkie tilted his head to his right, where some of the soldiers had gone to. Almost on cue, screams began to come out of it, the actual fates of the soldiers masked by the smoke. The sound of metal hitting flesh, and rending it apart, were descriptive enough. "He's right there." Right as he said this, a decapitated head flew out of the smoke, landing a few meters off the gathered soldiers. More and more screams ensued, as figures emerged in the smoke. All of that gunfire mattered very little in stopping the monster from the mist, and before soon, both it and the screams faded… temporarily. Then, Morales came running right out of it, her weapon gone from her hands. Before she could say anything or have any assistance provided to her by her allies, a much larger shape exploded out of the smoke and clubbed her head off her body, catching up to the soldier in an instant.
As a terrified Max beheld the death of her friend, Driver Nephi turned his attention to the group. He was deceptively lanky, but the plentiful scars he had over his body were telling of the battles he had led up until now. His "clothes" were barely more elaborate than his fellow Fiends, aside from the larger helmet he had on his head. His body was covered in blue tattoos, some shaped like targets. His bloodshot eyes settled on the group, paralyzed in fear or surprised, and he lowered his gore-covered golf club to wipe off some of the fresher bits on it with his right hand, smiling quietly at the massacre occurring before his eyes. A few more Fiends emerged from the last bits of smoke, walking up to stand behind their master.
"Don't die too quickly, dogs of the NCR," He began, his voice very composed for a Fiend. Then, a sadistic glint emerged in his eyes, and he grinned ever so slightly more. "I fucking love it when you scream."
…
Witnesses and rumors report a violent interaction between two soldiers of the New California Republic and an inhabitant of Freeside, Dixon.
"Dixon was a guy who'd look for starving babies in Freeside. He'd house and feed them in his orphanage. But the NCR soldiers said they wanted the orphanage for themselves and they began to the shit out of him when he said no. They… huh, they even grabbed the damn babies to use as clubs. I'm speaking of evil sadist shit, man!
"Dixon was always there to gave me what I need. Huh… medicine, yeah. He was called the medicine man you know? And then those brutes beat the shit out of him. Now there's someone else to give me medicine, but what if he gets taken by the NCR too? We can't let our doctors get taken away by the NCR! Huh anyway, on that promise, you've got any Jet man?"
"Even if Dixon's crimes are not pure fiction, which I find very unlikely, the matters of his judgment should be left to the discretion of the local authorities. The NCR has no right to intervene in such matters! Freeside needs some damn independence more than ever! Wake the fuck up!"
The NCR has refused to comment on the matter but has recently declared that any hopeful settler would be wise to avoid Freeside. Sounds ominous, heh?
…
I was considering having Nephi says "get fucked" at some point for the meme, but it'd be hard to end the chapter on that note!
We're getting closer to a pivotal point in the story, and I can't wait to see your reaction to it! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter in the meantime. Any review is very appeciated, of course! With any hope, you'll be worried for Max, Emma and Deacon!
What did you think of this chapter? And the depiction of Nephi? I'll see you next week for a new chapter! Till then, see ya later alligator!