The Edge of Glory

By: Interfectorem

*This story was inspired by the book "The Point of Honor" by Joseph Conrad, set during the Napoleonic era: I was very inspired by that book and even the near perfect movie representation called "The Duelists" by Ridley Scott. Either way, my intention with this fic is to bring a great book to a wider audience like I did with my fic, "Why We Fight" and parallel some of the themes in a fun Fallout atmosphere. Hope yall enjoy!*

Intro

Edward Sallow, better known simply as "Caesar" was a man from California who brought the knowledge of his people to the tribes of the east many years ago. Upon finding he and his party in a dire situation, he used the ancient knowledge and tactics of a long dead empire to save himself and others from tribal captivity. Even though that was the spark that led to a near lifetime of conquest and atrocity, we can look back on the past of the Legion objectively and say that their conquest over 40 years lead to changes and adaptations for people all across the post holocaust world. As barbaric as they were, their rapid conquest across the southwest speaks volumes about their society as a whole. Being a warlike society, many analysts find one of the most interesting things about them being their goal of bringing civilization to the tribes they conquered through each one's brutal absorption into the Legion. As many look upon the Legion as simple raiders, slavers, or savages from the outside, there was a culture and standard held within their ranks that unified almost all within the society. Where Caesar thought he could eradicate individuality for a strictly utilitarian nation, there were some things that couldn't be replaced even by indoctrination.

With the broad goal of Caesar's Legion being civilization at any brutal cost, it should be no surprise that the Legion sought to rid his conquests of all their old identities and install them as a cog within the giant national machine. However, even adhering to strict doctrine and procedure doesn't eliminate certain people's instinctive desire to stand out from the crowd or even back down from an insult. This is especially when that insult was directed at one's loyalty to the Emperor.

Even though Caesar saw dueling primarily as a behavior of the uncivilized, there was a legendary display of the old tribal spirit of prestige within the ranks that inspired a sense of courage and commitment for the lower legionaries that couldn't be obtained through philosophical propaganda. That inspiration came from two officers of the Legion who both loved Caesar, but upon meeting the other, knew that their glory to the Emperor could only be shown by the edge of a machete.

ACT 1

Procedural Quarrel

Though the story had been told many times and twisted countless ways by legionaries across the southwest, the origin of the quarrel still remains uncertain. Although, the spirit of the tale and names of the two involved remains the same, and no matter the iteration, every version heard will tell you it started south of a formerly sprawling metropolis called "Phoenix", near a recently Legion claimed settlement called Gold Canyon.

Decanus Aleron was a veteran member of the staff for Centurion Theracos, 6th Centuria, 4th Cohort of the Legion. Decanus Aleron and the rest of the 6th Centuria had been encamped outside the township of Gold Canyon for several weeks, awaiting the arrival of their new Elite Commander who would lead the march against the Ajoans of southern Arizona. The date was January 11th, 2262 when the cold winds of the season stirred around Aleron's feet outside the town. Aleron stepped forward to continue his assignment. His task was to serve a warrant of detainment against another officer of the 6th, Decanus Montano.

The man entered the town to a tense air as the older residents of town looked in the direction of the tall man bedecked in crimson and black. Many raised their eyebrows in worry or curiosity at the man in full armor, face covering, and a tall plume of black and red feathers lining his helmet. Most legionaries who'd entered the town weren't armed, not out of procedure, but because the idle century hadn't the need to equip themselves for battle while they were anywhere near the sleepy town. The people saw the decanus walking with a purpose, and every resident in town seemed know the reason he was there since the previous night's incident was known to everyone Legion and otherwise by that point. Not a sound was made other than the slight jingle of the decanus's black metal armor beneath the slow winds of an Arizona morning. Stopping outside the Gold Canyon home Decanus Aleron knew he'd find his assignment's target, the rest of the town looked the other way and continued to go about their business as the door was tapped three loud times with a studded gloved fist.

The scrap wood door creaked open, still locked by a chain when a young tribal woman peered through the opening.

"C- can I help you, legionary?" said the slim little woman on the other side of the door.

"That's 'Decanus', resident. I'm here for Decanus Montano. I know he's here, so open the door." Said Decanus Aleron in his gruff but less hostile way he used when speaking to non-legion people of the wasteland.

The woman shrank back, but didn't dare close the door as she said, "H-He's not here, he went to stay at Lizzy Perez's home last night. I haven't seen him."

"You are a liar. Do not test me, woman. I have three accounts from two Decanea and your prime local official saying otherwise. Now open this door or you will be involved in this matter as well" ordered Decanus Aleron, not willing to tolerate any games from anyone, especially a dissolute woman.

With a slight shake, the woman closed the door just enough to unlock the chain without being deemed disobedient to the occupier. In one motion, the tall decanus stepped through the door and removed his black ceramic facemask to take in the quaint dim little home. His eyes landed to the only closed door next to the meager little kitchen corner when he asked the woman,

"He in there?..."

The decanus waited for longer than he was accustom to for an answer before the slim woman responded, "Th- That's just the pantry-"

"- I asked if he was in there. Not what room it was." Interrupted the decanus before the young woman had a chance to lie even more.

"I tell you, s-sir-" said the woman with a plead and nearly a cry.

But Decanus Aleron wouldn't allow it as he thundered, "He's at 'Lizzy Perez's home', I'll pay no regard to your words since I see his equipment all over this pitiful home!..."

With eyes shifting from the scattered articles of Legion equipment around the musty room, Decanus Aleron felt the ingrained action of disciplining what he saw as a slave begin to arise in him. That was until he heard a shuffling sound behind the only closed door in the home. Aleron felt the strange sensation of what might've been considered embarrassment for the decanus who appeared to be acting like a pre-training recruit legionary or tribal auxiliary by the way he hid. Although, Aleron was mistaken since shortly after hearing the noise, a rough, "Clara! Tell whoever's out there to GO AWAY!" sounded from behind the closed door.

Not sure what to do, knowing that Aleron found his assignment kept him from going off on the young tribal woman apparently named, "Clara." Aleron stormed across the small home to the closed door, opened it, and saw Montano not in a pantry, but a bedroom. As much as Aleron despised being lied to by dissolutes in even the smallest of ways, he watched the decanus he was there to apprehend rubbing sleep from his eyes on the straw bed in only his tunic. When seeing who was in the doorway, Decanus Montano, sat himself up, not out of shame, but out of stern curiosity.

Before Aleron could address his brother in rank and arms, Montano demanded, "What cause have you to interrupt my time in respite, Decanus?"

Unsure of how to handle his assigned task and the setting he was to carry it out in, Aleron grabbed the nearest article of clothing, the black leather kilt on a table near the door, and tossed it at Montano saying, "Dress yourself, Decanus. I am to take you to Centurion Theracos immediately."

With the garment landing on Montano's lap, the half-dressed man wasn't quite satisfied with the disregard of his inquiry and demanded again, "What is this about? I will not disobey Centurion Theracos, but I will disobey the word from the supposed messenger who makes demands of me without cause. Now, Decanus, what specifically are your orders from our Centurion?"

While Montano threw on whatever articles of uniform were near him, Aleron stood himself up right even further, vision entirely focused on his task. Aleron began, "I am under orders from Centurion Theracos to take you to him under arrest for the consumption of alcohol, confirmed by two reputable witnesses, and…"

Montano stopped what he was doing and stared at the Decanus Aleron with death in his eyes at the first allegation. Before Aleron could speak any further, Montano roared, "Alcohol!? Who the Fuck- In Caesar's name would accuse me of such insolent nonsense!?"

Aleron continued with the list of reasons after the outburst without even pulling out his orders paper, "… and defaming the name of the Legion in presence of citizens of the empire."

The steam was visibly pouring from Decanus Montano's ears as he struggled to contain the rage and dishonor brought against his name and rank, even at the accusation level. But even worse, Montano couldn't stand the words coming from a man of his rank, whether Alerons words were procedure or otherwise didn't matter. Aleron didn't answer another question of Montano.

"You failed to answer Another question of mine, Decanus. I demand to know who brought the accusation of alcohol consumption against me! Who are these 'two reputable witnesses' of yours!?"

Without waiver of voice or tone, Aleron replied militarily, "Decanus Maximo of the 3rd contubernium, and Decanus Wellion of the 2nd…"

As soon as the names were uttered, Montano interjected, "You must be gravely mistaken, Decanus. For the two names you say are those who accompanied me last night in our joined respite.."

Aleron stated cooly, "I am not aware of the details, I am just under orders to bring you to Centurion Theracos-"

"Well let me inform you of the details, Decanus…" said Montano before continuing without affirmation from Aleron. "In the common house of this pitiful town, I was given drink by the women here due to our shared demand for hydration after yesterday's patrol of the mesa hollows. What those two failed to inform you was that the three of us were poisoned when our demand for drink was confused for the indulgences of the savage dissolutes. After realization, the three of us sought retribution and achieved what was originally expected. They are as much to blame as me, even for such an incident!"

Stone faced, Decanus Aleron responded, "Decanus Maximo and Wellion are in camp now for exactly as you describe. I do not care for the particulars, I am still to bring you to Centurion Theracos for it and reason number two-"

Montano, cringing at the idea of the second accusation struggled to contain his rage as he asked, "And who are your witnesses for the absurd and outright offensive notion that I would Ever defame the Legion?"

Decanus Aleron was never one to explain the orders he was carrying out for his Centurion, but the belligerent and defensive nature of Decanus Montano had seemingly ignited something in Aleron's brain. He felt compelled to justify his orders even further when he answered, "3 witnesses for your second allegation: the local supplier of sustenance known as, 'Dale', the local supplier of armor maintenance known as 'Regis' and the prime local official for this township called, 'Old Man Grevsky' all of which were there for the events after your previous charge."

Decanus Montano was left in pure shock at the names mentioned and how they could in any way serve as witnesses for the charge of "Defaming the Legion." With the incident of the night before flashing through Montano's mind and the correlation between that and the witnesses, his eyes were purely on the man delivering the news. Montano asked in disgust, "And do you consider these men to be 'reputable witnesses'?"

Unwavering, Aleron stated, "What I believe is irrelevant-" but was cut off.

Again, overwhelmed by the situation, Montano could only shout, "And since when do we take the word of such pathetic wastrels!?"

"My orders are my or-" said Aleron, only to be interrupted again by Montano growing increasingly upset by the predicament.

"I know your orders! What I fail to understand is how these charges were brought upon me…" said Montano before explaining the situation further to Aleron who'd been there strictly out of procedure.

"The alcohol had absolutely nothing to do with my actions last night! In the common house, I overheard the governor, 'Mr. Grevsky' speaking with his ignorant and out of place daughter, 'Bailey' about disparaging remarks towards the Legion! Mr. Grevsky allowed for such insolent speech to continue and I reprimanded her, despite her injury! Any woman, especially a profligate woman such as her deserved crucifixion for the things I heard, making my actions last night more of a warning than anything! And now! And now, you, and Centurion Theracos have the nerve to place me under arrest for defending the name of Lord Caesar in the presence of such dissolutes!? THEN! You take their word in how I was the one who defamed Lord Caesar!?"

Aleron heard every word, processed every word, and understood the savagery towards the situation that Montano proclaimed. Still, Aleron was Legion through and through, so the directive of his Centurion was paramount to anything except the word of Caesar himself. Aleron could only say, "Regardless the situation, I have my orders, you are to come with me to Centurion Theracos back at camp."

Montano stared at the armored Aleron for a long time, completely understanding the directive, but with a mind still unable to grasp the injustice being done to him through allegation. Montano felt done with this situation and was ready to go, having completely dressed aside from his armor. He stood from the bed and said, "Fine, I will have a word with Centurion Theracos about his disposition towards the words of profligates! Let us go, Decanus…" gesturing for the name of the messenger.

"Aleron" said the junior member of the Centurion staff as he stepped forward. Aleron felt satisfied that his job was seemingly ready to be carried out easily from that point forward, but as he stepped toward Montano, Montano's face became confused. Montano didn't know what was happening as Aleron stepped forward until Aleron unhooked the shackles from his back.

Montano could identify the jingling of shackles anywhere, and all sense of concluding the matter ended in the mind of Aleron as he was shoved violently into the wall. As Aleron stumbled against the wall for balance, he caught sight of the tribal woman standing in the doorway nearly hyperventilating. When Aleron caught his balance and refocused on the man who shoved him, Montano thundered louder than before, "I will not be brought to the feet of my Centurion who I served dutifully like a Damned SLAVE!..."

Aleron held the shackles at his side, watching the Decanus, and feeling a sudden inferno in his heart. Aleron had heard everything Montano said, agreed with him on all of it, but the roaring fire in the face of defiance to his orders made he himself roar, "My orders are what they are! How dare you defy the orders of Centurion Theracos, Montano!"

"You speak of my defiance to orders when you act on those stemming from corrupted wastrels!? I in no way defy the word of Centurion Theracos, I am defying the slave treatment from a man who acts on behalf of dissolutes!" shouted Decanus Montano.

Aleron roared, "Your words here and now are in direct defiance of Centurion Theracos, the word of Caesar in this place! My orders are to take you in how I was directed, that means you're coming with!"

Montano shouted back, "My loyalty is to Caesar, not to anyone who's been led astray by any wasters!"

Patience having long since vanished, Aleron cried, "You're coming in as directed!" and stepped forth shackles in hand only to feel the blade of a machete placed just above his chest plate. Following the slightly rusted and dry blooded blade from his neck to the hilt, then to the un-armored decanus holding it, Decanus Aleron felt something even more unique get shocked back to life inside him.

Aleron's eyes met Decanus Montano's and the man who'd slept in the home of the young tribal woman named "Clara" spat living flame as he reignited the spirit of something that was thought to have been scrubbed out of them by service to Caesar. That spirit came in the form of Montano's new directive, "Into the yard, Now!"

Without any hesitation or words, Aleron, began stripping his armor as the duo civilly walked out the side door of the shack, ignoring the woman's shouting protests that might as well have been muted. Stepping into the dusty little lot connected to the house that was enclosed by a 4 ft tall stone fence, the images of the past danced across both men's eyes.

Aleron and Montano both remembered being only ten years old in their former tribes. They saw the clash of blunt steel between the members of their different old tribes. Countless times, both had seen men brawling in the sands, between brother and brother over minor and major reasons. To the death, till first blood, the duo had seen it all, and had believed for so long that dueling was something that Caesar had saved them from having to do. Born into the societies of tribes that'd been annihilated and absorbed by the master they now served; both were dedicated entirely to Caesar. However, the situation, setting, offenses, misunderstandings, dedication to orders, and who they were carrying out their orders for created a resurfacing of ancestral tradition that could only be settled in blood. No amount of brainwashing, or love towards their new masters and doctrine could quell the ancestral fighting spirit that only took on new meaning in the question of who was loyal to what in their new beloved society of war.

As Aleron finished taking off his equipment, Montano hopped the fence and caught a passing old woman of the town by the collar. Hauling her to the edge of the stone wall, the murderous flaming eyes of Montano prevented the elderly woman from giving even the weakest of shouts until she was in her spot. The woman gripped her pail of water for comfort in the confusion, only for the young decanus to kick it out of her hands and order her, "Do not leave this spot woman! You'll serve as a 'reputable witness' while I show this profligate lover what loyalty looks like!"

Montano hopped back over the wall, drew his blade, and stole a glance to ensure his witness to the fight didn't move. She wouldn't even think of moving until ordered to by the blood seeking decanus. At that point, Aleron had removed all his armor, minus the belt that held his machete. Aleron looked back towards the young woman, still protesting weakly, and pacing back and forth. Having been taken over by the ancestral spirit of personal combat, the two didn't care that they didn't have the Legion demanded two male witnesses for personal combat. After all, personal combat in even the smallest Legion arenas were between slaves, or a legionary and slave, never between brothers of the same rank unless usurping a Praetorian. However, it should go without saying that the particulars of Legion procedure wasn't a top priority in their eyes at this point, despite the original reason for what was about to happen.

Montano and Aleron stepped towards each other, weapons drawn, and looked into the other's eyes. The winds slowed, almost slow enough for the two to hear the continuing protests of Clara or the confused questions of the elderly woman, and the both shouted, "Fight" at the same time.

The first to swing was Montano, having the ferocity of a Gila Beast. Aleron remained cool and level headed, knowing his opponent's swings were fueled by rage. Although Aleron had his own rage against his defiant target, and the buildup of the repressed tribal tradition craved a bloody outcome, he was able to hold his own, playing on the defensive. Aleron blocked swing after swing from the savage attacks of Montano, feeling himself get pushed back towards the shack. Remembering his placement, he thought the woman would have the sense to get out of the way if he was pushed toward her, but couldn't think about much more than where the house was as he blocked each and every swing. 40 seconds in, and Aleron could feel the presence of the home behind him, but knew not to look back, for any shift in focus would mean his end by the lightning attacks from Montano.

Montano unknowingly aided his enemy when the grin on his face widened at the sight of his opponent about to be driven into the wall. Aleron saw this, and truly realized for the first time ever why he and his fellow Legionaries were instructed to cover their faces in combat. Because of that, Aleron knew his placement for sure, and turned his disadvantage into an advantage. Aleron did so by risking it all during one of Montano's swings where he shot towards the man, seized his arm, and jammed Montano into the wall. The sudden switch in position wasn't expected by Montano, and this was where any combat game they were playing turned into the savage conflict both were used to in the Legion.

Barely a minute in, there were no signs of either tiring. Aleron had caught Montano against the wall of the shack, but was unable to bring up his machete to finish the work. Aleron slammed his elbow into the jaw and neck of Montano who spat and head butted Aleron as the blood burned hotter. In one motion, Montano seized a gap and slashed the arm of Aleron who didn't even wince at the spray of blood. Montano attempted to expand upon his work, but overextended himself as he tripped Aleron, causing Aleron to grip the man's arm dragging Montano to the dirt with him. Not even the sudden change in the location of the battle stopped the two. The dust kicked up, blinding the two as they swung and hacked at each other while both men attempted to stand. No goggles, no protection from the elements, not even the sand in their eyes would cause either of them to shut an eye while the sandy lot was dotted with more and more hacks from their blades. Both resorted to throwing handfuls of sand in the others' eyes between each swing only for the clash of steel to continue in the ugliest brawl to ever happen between two officers of the Legion.

As Aleron shuffled away, playing on the defensive again, Montano incessantly slapped the ground with his blade just narrowly missing Aleron's torso or legs each time. Time had been lost when Aleron attempted to stand, just for Montano to swipe Aleron's leg out from under him. Instead of seizing the moment, Montano's ferocity had finally succumbed to exhaustion and a mouth dryer than the sands they fought in. Aleron felt the blood trickle down his arm after getting floored, and stood himself back up as Montano did the same. When both had staggered to their feet, it only took one exchange in looks for the brawl to continue. A new wave in energy came over the two and Montano began his merciless offensive again. Back at the defensive again, Aleron, found his footing again, and blocked or dodged each swing. Neither had realized the elements or their own conditions and the fight entered it's third minute as the scene looked more like two sand monsters battling, rather than two Legion officers.

Swing, slash, and thrust continued perpetually by Montano as each one was averted by Aleron. Each block, dodge, and attack became weaker as their mortal bodies rapidly lost their ability to continue. Aleron was almost pushed entirely towards the wall where the woman stood when the final savage attack came crashing down with Montano's machete. Destiny had finally taken over as that first "last attack" was on Montano's part, not Aleron's. With one last exhausted block, the final attack of Montano was brought about by the final attack of Aleron. The clash of steel, and one shoulder to Montano's chest, Aleron whipped his blade out from under the captured arm of Montano and left one long streak of blood across Decanus Montano's torso.

Shocked and not even feeling what happened, the sand covered face of Aleron told Montano exactly what happened. Montano took three steps back, and felt the long bloody line across his torso. The blood trickled down slowly at first until the layer of sand was broken, then it turned to a pour. The world elements of exhaustion, and thirst caught up to both of them, and as more blood poured from Montano's torso, Aleron felt his bleeding arm and knew the lesser severity of his injury didn't necessarily mean victory. More and more blood fell down Montano's torso, and neither one knew what to make of anything since neither felt the need to proceed.

Just then, victory was announced when Montano collapsed into the patch of hot blood and sand around him, and Aleron's victory speech consisted only of the words, "What have I done?"

A/N: This is the first fic I plan on uploading as I write it. I typically try to finish stories before uploading, that way I just have to edit before making them available. That said, I'm open to correction, constructive criticism, and even feedback on who you'd like to hear more about or from. I have an outline, but I'm more than willing to implement ideas from readers if they can fit in that outline. This fic is also my first real attempt at writing in the 3rd person as opposed to my usual style of character perspective.

*Also, this can be considered the continuation of my fic "The New West", so you may recognize a character or two if you read that, but is still its own standalone story (You don't have to read that fic for this one to make sense)*

*Also Also, I have plans to implement some post-New Vegas Legion lore based on fellow FanFic writer "Xcom-Anders" and his take on what that world would look like. So, shoutout to him*