Legate Lanius had entered the war tent after his prayer to Mars, the god of war. This spiritual ritual had always helped him through the days when war was not committed against the enemy of Caesar. He often pondered why his master was against pitched battles against the flag of the bear. Didn't he once say that fortune favors the bold?
His officers stood at attention when his presence was known. All except one, whose demeanor was less than desirable and his tired eyes present. The lower-ranked Legionary lowered his head and knelt before him. "Why is there a whelp in my war tent?"
One of his subordinates stepped forward from a pole keeping the tent up and spoke up. "My legate, this is a messenger from Caesar's camp. He brings news."
"Well then, tell me what I need to know." The legate demanded of him.
The messenger rose from kneeling and confronted him with the truth. "Caesar is dead."
"What happened?!" His voice was far tenser than before. "You should be grateful I haven't gutted you for this treasonous thoughts."
"It's not treason, it's the truth. An army of heretical machines came out from under the ground and attacked our camp. The dissolute who the Legion is currently here for had summoned them and brought chaos on the fort. We tried to fight them off, but they were too many." The young man explained. "My centurion commanded me to send word to you about the camp's destruction as the survivors held off the damned wired to tell you that you are now the leader of the Legion. Caesar's legacy now rests with you."
For Lanius, he realized that their way back across the Colorado River was now blocked. Perhaps it was a blessing that most of the army was with him, but he was now on a time table. The needs of his army couldn't wait out a long battle against the profligates and the desire for swift retribution needed to be sated. His masked face glanced to the officers throughout the war tent. "If this is true, then we must act. Our enemy will take advantage about the Legion's loss, but in order to honor Caesar's memory, we must take New Vegas. We are because of that city and it has become our goal. We shall take it for him, this is the dream that he would have wanted." He looked to the messenger. "Announce my control of leadership to everyone in the camp."
The prime lowered his head in respect. "As you wish." With that said, he walked out of the tent and had begun to spread the word.
The legate turned his full attention towards his officers. "Is there anyone in this tent who disagrees with my new position?"
One of his men stepped forward. "You now lead the future against the profligates and we shall obey your commands. However, Vulpes may dislike the decision that we confer to you over him."
"Yes, he would definitely disagree with me. I will deal with his fate once our enemy is destroyed and flees to the west." He acknowledged. "Centurions, deploy the explorers and probe for any weaknesses in their lines. The NCR and the Russians have hastily formed a defensive line, but haven't had the time to consolidate on them. When they return with new information, we shall assemble the Legion and finish our campaign once and for all."
Timur sat quietly in his chair as his sniper rifle lay in his lap, overlooking the open field atop of a gas station. Not that he complained, it was better than worrying about his air filter, freezing to death, or a flying mutant coming around to take a man off the ground. What also helped in the process was the value of night vision goggles in the Mojave than in the Dead City. Apparently, such equipment was a rare find around these parts which meant that they had a distinct advantage in seeing the enemy before they came close to surprising the frontline infantry. This was perfect for nights like these.
He heard a pair of footsteps, only to look over his shoulder to find Ten-of-Spades accompany him. "Evening, how i-is sentry work d-doing for you?"
The Russian waved at him before scanning the open ground for the enemy. "It's fine. Though I do love to be smug over the guys below when I pick off some scouts without them knowing. The only time they do know I'm engaging the enemy is when they hear someone screaming. How about you?"
"I c-can't sleep. There's s-something keeping my g-gut awake."
"Looks like I'm not the only one. There is something off about this night and I don't know why." He stated.
"Say I-I hear that Betsy l-likes you. Did you know that?"
Now this was news. "Wait, who said that?"
"E-Everyone. The l-lieutenant is trying not to embarrass her since s-she likes girls, but B-Betsy made you an exception."
If it wasn't for the nosalis skin covering his face, he would be blushing before the younger sniper. "Chyort, I don't know how I feel about this. Like I'm glad she likes me, but I didn't know she swung that way."
He knelt beside him with the confused look on his face. "You d-didn't know? Betsy a-always tells guys to f-fuck off."
"She didn't tell me."
"That's news. You're not a g-girl and a blonde."
"If there was ever an awkward moment to be told that a lesbian really likes you, this would be it." His head turned when several cracks echoed out in the distance, but the sound originated on the right flank of the frontlines. "Did you hear that?"
"Yeah, I t-think so."
Timur looked to the right side of the frontlines to see an explosion flash before his very eyes before a volume of gunfire erupted in a vicious exchange. He reached for the radio on his shoulders and turned it on. "The right flank has been penetrated, reinforce that area."
A man was quick to acknowledge his request. "Understood, sending platoons to assist."
Yet, his night vision goggles noticed movement throughout the entire southern approach. "Forget what I said, alert everyone in Novac!" He screamed to the top of his lungs. "This is a full-scale attack!"
Ten of Spades started loading his rifle as he stole a glance from him. "What about the r-right flank? B-Betsy and my squad are there!"
"Join them if you're worried about your comrades, I'll stand my ground here." He ordered before laying himself down on the rooftop of the gas station.
Waves of infantry moved across the land as flares flew above the battlefield. The civilians on the frontline were quick to depart as NCR and Russian had begun to take their defensive positions alongside the sandbags. It was time to join them in this battle as he aimed down his scope and pulled the trigger on the numerous enemy. There was work to be done.
When Major Morozov heard the gunfire from the frontlines, he was quick to join the fighting as he grabbed his carbine and brought an aura of inspiration into the infantrymen alongside the frontlines. To see a major personally join the fighting was a sight to behold. Whether it be NCR or Russian, officers such as him should have been in the rear. As he raised his weapon, Pavel looked over the defenses to see an endless horde of the Legion charge towards his position. Pulling the trigger, he unleashed his firepower downrange as he looked over his shoulder to see more NCR troopers join him. "Use your grenades! Lob as many of them as you can!"
His cry was answered when pre-war grenades and makeshift pipebombs were thrown over the defenses and at the Legion. The first wave was met with explosions of shrapnel and shockwaves throughout the entire front, some of the enemies were lucky their bodies remained intact. Yet, it was not enough to stop the mass of red uniforms from approaching their positions. Some of the Legion soldiers stopped to return fire with rifles and weapons of the automatic nature, but there were those who brought along axes, sledgehammers, and bladed weapons. This strange amalgamation of equipment would be confusing to the eye of a modern soldier, but it also showed the will of the Legion to fight with what they had.
Pavel noticed that his weapon had stopped firing, but upon closer inspection, he saw an orange color emanating from his barrel. His weapon was overheating and with the enemy getting closer, he finally became afraid of what was to come. The automatic carbine hung from his shoulders as he reached for his semi-automatic pistol and desperately did what he could to keep the Legion back. Despite their losses, the enemy pressed forward and had finally reached the lines. The enemy was in their element.
A Legionary jumped across the sandbags and landed before the major with a chainsaw knife in hand. "What the fuck?!" He cried out as he stumbled back and held the trigger on his Lolife at his assailant.
The masked soldier kept the stumbled back and fell to his doom before another took his place with a shotgun in hand. Before he even had a chance to fire, the hostile's weapon jammed before him. Without hesitation, Pavel lunged forth and pushed him back against the sandbag wall as he reached for his knife. However, the Legionary's strength was working against him as the communist officer found his back pressed against the pavement. Then his trench knife's knuckles smashed against the opponent's head before jabbing the blade into his dazed jugular.
He kicked the body off of him while ripping the pump-action shotgun out of his hand. Prying the weapon off the dead man had made him a target as he looked to his left to see several Legionaries rush towards him with machetes in hand. Then gunfire from the rear had taken them up by surprise before they stumbled to the ground and succumbed to the kill shots.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw a blonde trooper rush to his aid while her squad covered her. "Major Morozov, are you alright?!"
"Mags?" He was surprised to see the leader of a poorly-trained squad of misfits come to his aid. "I'm fine, but help me out with this shit."
A gunshot rang out as the girl started screaming. "Ah! My leg!"
He looked back to see a Legionary rifleman pulling back the bolt for the next shot. Pavel brought his shotgun to bear and blasted him back into another soldier. Then another jumped forward with his machete in hand, but the Red stopped firing his weapon and used it as a club. When the blade clashed against the shotgun's barrel, he reached for his pistol and fired several shots into his torso without any mercy. Then the buttstock found its use as the man's face was smashed against the broken gun. "Medic!" He ordered as he rushed to the NCR trooper's side and pulled out his medkit needles for her pain.
After he injected the morphine into her system, he was quick to pull her away from combat while bullets flew past their heads. The girl cried out in pain as he looked around to see the entire frontline slowly collapse. There was almost no end in sight as the soldiers of Caesar's Legion overwhelmed them through superior numbers. As the major picked the NCR girl up into his arms, he carried her away from the fighting.
Trucks of reinforcements full of heavily armored Nazis as one of them startled his gatling gun to life. "Fucking mutants are breaking through, put these animals down!" The user ordered as they unleashed their wrath on the enemy, but even they were not enough. Spears from the enemy infantry found their marks into the ranks of the heavy troopers.
Yet, Pavel looked back to see the girl's squadmates escort him away while Legionary soldiers in ornate armor had stepped forward with large makeshift hammers or spears with fire. Despite the volume of fire pressed against them, they charged the heavy infantry and crashed into their lines with glee. Their battle cries had matched their battle prowess killing anyone who stood in their way. Some brave Russians had fixed bayonets and committed themselves to a counterattack, but they were no match for those trained with a blade.
The radio on Pavel's shoulder was enough to tell him that everything was not going well for them. "Fall back! I say again, fall back! Novac is lost!"
Author's Note: Oh boy, I derailed another plot once again.
Annoying POW Marine: I've seen your reviews and it's a welcoming sight since reviews kinda stopped coming. Thanks to your bit on the Metro Coalition, it helped me with this chapter.