JOSEPH'S RECOMPENSE: BY DESERT RANGER CARACAL
WARNING: THIS STORY INVOLVES THE BRUTAL MURDER OF A FAMILY BY THE LEGION, INCLUDING THEIR CHILDREN. DO NOT READ IT IF YOU'RE NOT READY FOR THAT KIND OF HEAVY SHIT.
LOCATION: THE OUTSKIRTS OF A NEARBY TOWN.
DATE: JUNE 17TH 2274.
TIME: 9:30 AM.
TEMPERATURE: 80°F OR 27°C.
While starting an independent ranch was a risky endeavor for many individuals of the Mojave, a good few folk from the NCR did just that, if only because of Brahmin Barons forcing people off of their land with government approval. As such, towns across the Mojave began popping up as a result, especially when the Crimson Caravan company thought there was profit to be made out of it.
The town here was a minor farming town, with a few ranchers dotted about. Mostly human in population, but a few anthros appeared in the population. Most of them were in the town itself, but two anthro families had chosen to try their hands at ranching. One of the families had been there for a year, and consisted of wolves who were still NCR Patriots, even if they'd been forced off of their land by the NCR. The second had been there for two months, and consisted of vulpines who came of their own free will.
However, they'd found some trouble with cattle being shot at by unknown individuals, and the father had gone to the tavern to find potential help to help figure out who was throwing pot-shots at their brahmin. He'd found help in Joseph, who'd come there as as a caravan guard, and had gotten him to come over the next morning for help.
The caracal ranger did just that, making his way to the house using the specific instructions given by the father. When the caracal had followed his instructions and gotten to the house, he could tell something was wrong.
The door was open, he couldn't hear any life from the inside, and the brahmin outside weren't being tended to. He drew his revolver, cocking the .44's hammer as he cautiously made his way into the home, smelling the air and scanning the area for sound with his ears. He could smell blood already, and that made him move faster inside.
When he entered the living room, the caracal stopped dead in his tracks, freezing in shock as he saw a horror show. The family was dead, slaughtered without any reason whatsoever. Every single one of them had been chopped apart with machetes, the father, the mother, the teenage son, the barely eight year old daughter, and the baby were massacred. Hacked into various pieces, their blood staining the carpet and blood after being herded like mere animals. They'd had their ears cut off too, and scalped to boot, trophies for sure.
Joseph barely held himself from vomiting, before a feeling of rage set inside. Caesar's flag was in the living room, alongside a dead recruit, having been shot by the father's single shot shotgun. More blood would be spilled without question, and it would be all of the remaining legionaries who chose to commit this atrocity.
The caracal briefly looked the house over, and found an old sawn off shotgun hidden in the main bedroom with twenty 12 gauge shells. He loaded the sawn off and left the house, beginning to trace the path of the legionaries as best he could, moving as quickly as he could to intercept the legionaries before he could be found and killed.
It took him an hour of pursuit before he found the legion camp, currently occupied by the same squad who committed the atrocity, alongside a second squad. A single prime decanius, and a total of 7 recruits, as one had died in the house. The caracal slowly made his way over to the camp, stalking his prey as he often did in search and destroy practice missions, alongside real search and destroy missions.
When he was fairly close, his ears were able to hear every word spoken in the camp. The decanius was boastful, talking and mocking the family butchered as the other recruits who had participated joked alongside him.
The ranger didn't care, continuing his stealthy approach until he was close enough. He set his hat aside for the moment and getting the shotgun out of his coat. The caracal took a silent deep breath before performing a jump and somersault into the camp, shocking the legionaries as he unloaded both barrels of the sawn off into the decainus's torso from the back, killing him near instantly.
As the dying legionary crumpled down, Joseph reloaded his shotgun and unsheathed his combat knife, firing both barrels at a pair of nearby legionaries, killing them quickly as the ranger charged at another recruit, sheathing his knife in the man's heart. The remaining four recruits were in a panic as they grabbed their machetes and prepared to try to fight the ranger.
Four recruits against a seasoned ranger. This was beyond unfair. They barely stood a chance, even as Joseph let them make the first attempts to connect their blades with his body. He dodged well and reloaded his shotgun without much issue, firing the shotgun quickly again, knocking two recruits out of the fight easily. The closest one got a good few pellets to his left lung and arm, the one furthest away from the ranger got a pellet to the heart.
Joseph put his shotgun away and changed his knife hand to his right hand. The caracal deflected machete blows without much issue, as the beast waited for the right moment to strike. After a half minute, he got a lucky break, as he was able to stab the recruit on his right side with his knife in the stomach, killing the last legionary with a brutal kick to the neck, destroying his windpipe and dooming him to a horrible death by suffocation.
As the dying breaths of the last recruit were breathed out, Joseph looked through the camp, and found the ears and scalps of the butchered vulpine family, putting them into a cloth bag as he left the camp for the vultures, raiders, or other carrion eaters. That, or patrols sniffing out legionaries.
When Joseph returned to the house, he saw that the sheriff and a small posse was assembled and were heading over to the house. It was mostly human, but with the wolf father of the other rancher family alongside some vulpine townsfolk. Joseph approached the posse, who soon noticed the ranger and began shouting at him.
"HALT! WHO ARE YOU AND WHY IS THAT BAG DRIPPING BLOOD?"
Shouted the sheriff the moment he saw Joseph. The sheriff was about 40 something years old, wearing a well worn uniform he had been using his entire career. His dark skin was as tough as a sheriff's had to be, and he clearly fit the role of a lawbringer with his cool head and ability to keep the peace. The experienced man kept his pump shotgun at low ready. signaling the townsfolk to do the same, to which Joseph responded by stopping right in his tracks, and speaking.
"I'm a former desert ranger. The family in there is dead. butchered by legionaries who killed them all for kicks. Go inside and you'll see I speak the truth. This bag holds their scalps and their ears, I wanted to bring them back for a proper burial."
The ranger said, as the posse gasped in horror. Some of them even tried raising their guns before the sheriff began yelling.
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE. WE ARE CIVILIZED, WE DON'T KILL WITHOUT FAIR TRIAL. I AM GOING INSIDE AND I AM GOING TO INVESTIGATE."
He yelled out, before walking into the house, his deputy taking control of the situation. Joseph and the posse remained still, until a few minutes later when the sheriff walked out, his face bearing the shock due his witness of the horror in the house.
"I can safely say that this man is correct, this was a legion butchering, they were scalped, and their ears were removed. Bastards likely would have gotten away with it too if it weren't for him."
He said, turning to Joseph, walking to the ranger and extending his hand.
"Please, if you'd hand it over, we'll get to work preparing the graves of these good people."
He said, as Joseph did just that, the mournful look on Joseph's face remaining consistent.
"Bury them as best you can, I doubt they'll try and haunt this place, any reason for them to do so is gone. I made sure of that."
Joseph said, beginning to make his way to town. as the posse began spreading around the house to keep it guarded while the sheriff figured out how to get the bodies sorted and prepared for burial. The wolf father on the other hand made his way over to Joseph, soon following the ranger side by side.
"Do you think that they'll try and attack my farm? That they'll try and do the same to me and my family? I know you're a former desert ranger, the armor tells me everything I need to know. I can hire you as a guard, I can pay you well."
The scared wolf said, partly as an attempt to get a seasoned fighter to help protect him, but also because of the immediate terror of the situation before him.
"No. I'm thankful for your offer but that is not for me. I'm not one to settle down so easily, but there are rangers that can and will accept such an offer without issue. Don't try and compete with me on this, you'll find someone."
Joseph said, continuing to walk to town as the wolf continued to follow him for a brief moment, before stopping, and heading elsewhere, likely to make advertisements to entice former rangers into being rancher guards.
Good paying most likely, but not for the caracal. He had more to do in the Mojave. He wasn't the breed to settle down with all the loose ends in front of him. He had much more to do, many more to save, and enough legion blood to flood the entire Mojave wasteland.