The Fall of a Goliath
The Battle of Hoover Dam - Early 2277
Hours into the battle and the sun was at its highest point, but its location in the sky did little to penetrate the thick cloud of Mojave dust and black smoke of war blanketing the land. All around the bridge between Arizona and Nevada, and beneath the cloud, hordes of crimson soldiers had slaughtered their way through the NCR's lines, and by this time, the Dam was more Legion than NCR with the last lines of defense just then feeling the impact of the last Prime wave. With much of the NCR beginning their withdrawal, the final NCR lines on the Dam proper had fallen back and the few surviving contubernia of recruits were beginning their cleanup effort while the fresh Primes met with the retreating NCR soldiers who'd only fallen back to take new positions along the winding roads to the Dam.
Aleron stood atop the Dam littered with the bodies of California and Legion soldiers, looking up at those cliffs on the Nevada side as he directed his recruits to join those attempting to break open the visitor center doors. All of the sudden, a high caliber round clipped the side of his helmet, not aimed enough to kill him but certainly enough to send him to the ground behind a sandbag barricade. With his fingers leaving indents on the grip of his blade, he used his free hand to begin picking himself up, using the Dam's tower for support when another mortar shell exploded overhead nearby. Aleron's ears rang, completely drowning out all noise of the battle surrounding him as he peaked over the sandbags. There he saw the recruits he sent to bolster the visitor center all dead with their bodies full of shrapnel, six of his men all dead, and another two spasming their way into death with blood pooling around them through each shard of steel. There he stood disoriented and confused as his ringing ears drowned out the chaos; he didn't even feel it as the staff assisted his rise, instead, he was locked in a temporary trance where he could only watch the scene around him.
Aleron saw his brothers across the west Dam finishing their work on the California troopers. As the last of the final Prime wave passed by, he saw the lines of troopers on the Dam throwing their guns over the edge and putting their hands up only to be beheaded by the faceless soldiers of Caesar. Whole groups of the surrendered were lined up and killed as the Legion worked in its mechanical way even when officers ordering the slaughter fell to the snipers on the cliffs. Surrendered female troopers were picked up amid the chaos and hauled to the edge of the Dam before getting thrown over the side, regardless of the snipers doing what they could as the execution teams continued. Aleron watched another mortar shell explode over the visitor center and saw the final Prime wave meet with the last NCR line on the Dam top when yet another decanus fell before he could behead his surrendered victim. The death of that decanus didn't save the trooper's life because another legionary picked up where his dead commander left off before he too fell to the menace in the cliffs. After several moments that felt like minutes, time picked up and Aleron's hearing returned before he was collected enough to move his prime groups up and watched another pair of officers fall on the Dam top. As his Primes charged forth to join the slaughter on the west edge, his eyes scanned the Dam top and his mind took special notice of all the fallen plumed helms before another round chipped the edge directly behind him and it all made sense. Slamming himself into the wall of that tower, he ordered his veterans with the gesture of his blade to fire on those Nevada cliffs. Aleron's veterans began their suppressive work to little success as he watched two of his veterans fall to more sniper fire before he finally turned around to look at the Arizona cliffs begging for aid.
By this time, the Legion's own sharpshooter and explorer groups in the rear were either killed by their NCR and ranger counterparts on the Nevada side or too pinned down to be effective. Atop the volcanic red rock overlooking the west, Legate Graham stood with his large staff and veteran wave officers looking over the chaos. Despite the tremendous progress of the last Prime wave smashing into the final NCR line, he saw his own commanders and veterans dropping across the Dam and looked to the opposite cliffs understanding the tactic. Legate Graham lowered his binoculars when suddenly, another volley of sniper fire came their way, sending Graham off the rock he stood upon. The Praetorian and veteran staff froze, watching their commander tumble to the ground, appearing to have taken a direct hit. Less than two seconds later, Graham stood to his feet, showing that the round had missed him, but the force behind it had knocked him over. Something that would've certainly been chalked up as a confirmed kill by the NCR marksman before watching his target rise and climb upon an even more exposed position.
Montano watched his Legate fall and then rise after seemingly taking a direct hit in the chest, but as Graham climbed that rock, one of the Praetorians broke from his shock and instinctively tried to prevent Graham's suicidal exposure, begging over an uproar of gunfire, "Legatus! You mustn't expose yourself!"
Legate Graham swatted the hand from his belt and met the praetorian with eyes flaming like the sun, "Where else should a Legate die!?"
The Legate climbed the rock and hoisted himself up before rising to his feet as he held his arms out, begging to be hit. Graham waved his arms and fired his pistol blindly in the direction of those Nevada cliffs, shouting, "KILL ME ALREADY! I'M RIGHT HERE!"
He emptied the rest of his pistol into the air and the second it locked back, another volley of sniper fire pelted the cliff behind him, taking out a few officers in the staff. Montano kept his composure as he watched the Legate miraculously survive the volley, but felt the blood of the commander to his right get sprayed onto his face. Montano felt the body of his comrade slump to the rock around his feet and Graham didn't flinch. The sniper fire seemingly did little other than irritate the Legate even more as he reloaded his pistol, fired one more shot at the west, and shouted, "FUCKING COWARDS!"
After that, Legate Graham had his fill and casually stepped down from the rocks to a less exposed position as yet another barrage of sniper fire missed him. An explorer marksman wasn't so lucky and collapsed before Graham from his position on the ridge above, and Graham stepped over the body with his eyes flaming like never before. When Graham was before the large staff, he dusted himself off and gestured towards the chaos on the Dam top as he commanded;
"I want those cliffs silenced! Send the Veterans forth and smash through the lines! Chase down those rangers and sharpshooters, kill them all! I want pursuit till they're all gone! No survivors!..."
The Legate turned to a praetorian with a short-range radio pack and screamed over another succession of fire from the explorer positions, "... Recruits will drop their current directives and bolster the Primes along the roads! Those NCR fallback points must be destroyed or engaged immediately! Rally all Veteran groups and Veteran officers remaining on the Dam to join the Veteran charge!..."
He stopped before looking at the 9 now 7 Veteran officers behind his praetorian staff, "Officers of the Veteran Cohort!..."
All of them, Montano included, snapped upright to the attention regardless of the incoming sniper fire, "You heard my directive! Hunt down and eliminate those sharpshooters then circle back to finish the Primes' engagement!"
Each officer screamed their "True to Caesar" over another uproar of gunfire from the explorers on the ridge and were led by an Elite Centurion quickly down to the staging area below. Legate Graham turned back to the carnage on the far end of the Dam while the praetorian radioman continued screaming the Legate's orders into the receiver.
Aleron had moved up to the forces around the visitor center and the Primes had just washed over the final barricade. As the NCR began their full-on retreat to the fallback points along the Nevada side roads, the Primes couldn't celebrate for long since the NCR snipers on the cliffs took the brief moment to focus fire on the mass of red along that vacant line. The mortars had been silenced perhaps due to ammunition exhaustion but that meant little when more and more officers collapsed due to those snipers. Aleron saw each group of newly leaderless soldiers charge to rally around their vexillarius, only for each vexillarius to fall to the menace above. As the Bull banner around each group was passed from one fallen man to a newly targeted one, he briefly saw the Elite Centurion of his Prime wave kneeling behind the barrier to one of the intake towers, watching more and more rounds from above pelt the opposite wall or put new holes in his already tattered plume. Aleron met the eyes of that Elite and was then given the telepathic order to take charge and lead the surviving Prime wave against the NCR fallback points. Aleron nodded back, but was immediately given an order to wait one moment. Aleron did so, and saw one of the Elite's staff members hang up the receiver on his radio pack. Just then, one of the runners in the Elite's staff sprung out of cover and hopped up on the Dam's ledge with a megaphone in hand. Stepping onto the concrete barrier, the soldier screamed into the megaphone;
"Omnes Veteres Admoveri Vetustissma Cohorte!... Repetere... Omnes Veteres Admoveri Vetus Cohorte!"
The command was in Latin, roughly meaning "All veterans push forward with the oldest cohort" or "All veterans must advance..." As the NCR continued their retreat to those fallback points, the Prime congregation had temporarily halted until hearing the order was not for them. At that point, the Primes began their charge on the new NCR positions under the leadership of some nameless decanus whose identifying plume was too battered and chopped away to cause his targeting. The second that order was repeated, all the eyes of the few surviving veterans and commanders atop the Dam were moved to the order giver. After the order, the soldier with the megaphone screamed, "Recruits advance with Primes..." and then, "... Primae Pugnae Deinde Positionis..." (Roughly meaning, "Primes engage, then hold position.")
The Primes were already on their way to fulfil their directive when the horde of surviving Recruits joined their Prime brothers in the new chaos along the road. It should be briefly mentioned that orders were given in Latin during battle to prevent the enemy's understanding. Most battles and objectives were plotted out beforehand, but changes to orders in the heat of battle were issued in the revived language not only to confuse the enemy but to give specific orders that horn calls and war drums couldn't. Needless to say, Recruits had the least familiarity with the Latin language, but orders outside of "throw yourselves savagely at the enemy" were rarely given to them, so the generic order to assist the Primes wasn't the most costly order for the enemy to overhear on a battlefield. The second the soldier with the megaphone was done, a bullet from the cliffs ended the man, his body falling over the edge into the Lake Mead side of the Dam, and all the veterans were bracing the fire above, until there they saw it. The final wave of Veterans was on its way.
Aleron, a Veteran Centurion in charge of a nearly depleted Prime Century, knelt behind his cover with his two battered Veteran contubernia watching the final veteran wave storm around the crest of the Dam, ready to vault over the barricade and join in the victory ensuring assault.
The sight was truly terrifying to anyone unfamiliar with Legion tactics or to anyone who opposes Caesar on the field of battle. Watching nearly 600 heavily armored and masked men in red, black, and gold sprint in formation at the speed of some old world track stars was a sight that silenced many of the NCR sniper positions in the cliffs right there. At the same time, as the force stormed across the Dam, many of those remaining sniper groups increased the speed of their shots while losing accuracy at the panic of knowing that horde of unstoppable fanatics were coming for them.
The Primes had met and slaughtered all in the NCR's first fallback position, but there were still so many more that continuously chipped away at the wave, even when the Veterans were so close. All those Veterans on the Dam top including Aleron joined in the massive charge, but Aleron's group caught up to speed somewhere in the middle of the block, making up for those in the formation who fell on approach.
Montano breathed heavily behind his steel face, watching the first two centuries of veterans get bogged down with the Primes fighting along the next NCR fallback point. Montano's unit being the fourth in the order of file, followed the century in front as he led his men straight through the chaos along the Nevada roads and through a canyon pass winding further west. Somewhere in the mess, more bombs started falling on the cliffs and rough terrain, and the 400 or so Veterans who made it through the mess along the fallback points dispersed throughout the cliffs. A search and destroy operation occurred as the cliff passes beyond the road spread into a web-like structure. Up they went and around the rocks, the Veterans met with few rangers on the cliffs overlooking the Dam, slaughtering all they found but the scarcity of enemies was still puzzling as more bombs exploded around them and even more rangers were seen fleeing.
Smoke and dust shrouded the region and the veteran wave continued their pursuit of the rangers, tailing each group further west into the cliffs and back down to the roads. The war back near the Dam was still a complete slaughter as more Primes were killed by the NCR's rear positions while those Californians in reach of the Primes' blades were already helpless. Graham looked over the west through his binoculars at the fight along the west, watching the last of the Veteran wave completely disappear into the winding roads and cliffs along the Nevada side, but seeing the devastation of his force on the Nevada side. As victorious as the Primes were in each engagement, and despite the silence of those sniper positions, the Primes could only hold out for so long. Legate Graham kept his radioman close by and gripped his pistol tightly as he prayed that the Veterans would finish their work on the rangers and return to finish the fight along the fallback points. Despite the inferno in Graham's heart for savage servitude, he knew his prayers were not ones that would ever be answered to his blasphemous desires. Mars was not the god who stood lord over the Legion's battle this day.
Montano had continued his relentless pursuit with the majority of his force intact. Only a few of his contubernia had fallen behind to deal with some of the ranger holdouts, but that didn't matter when they had reached the main road exposing an open expanse. The other veteran forces had rallied at the road and all of them landed in the same place in pursuit of the rangers. There along the road, Montano moved his unit forward once more following behind two other centuries, and the Elite of the Cohort sprinted up the rear to lead the advance. All across the open desert were the dots identifying the rangers who'd escaped the cliffs. There were so few rangers killed in the cliffs and so many that made it out that every officer there including those who joined the charge, knew that their task was not done. With the Elite taking his place at the front of the rallying column and all those dots in the distance disappearing into an old world town, the mobilization took place on the march. Aleron took his spot with a few of his remaining veterans in the space between two centuries and began following in the charge forward, taking note of the town they were moving towards, as well as the distant spire of a great city far to the northwest.
Aleron had assisted his Legate's staff many times in the weeks and days leading up to the battle, and remembered giving his input on the old maps of the region. Boulder City was the nearest town to the Dam, and was most likely being used as a triage center at this time for the NCR wounded. This of course was speculation, but Aleron watched the Rangers flee towards the town same as all the other veterans in this wave, and knew the place would likely be home to the NCR's reserves. Montano came to this same conclusion, and also knew that if the rangers were rallying there, the place was important enough to strike a terrible blow against the NCR forces in the region. The only thing Montano knew that Aleron didn't was that this assault on the town of Boulder City would have to be a quick one since they were already farther from Hoover Dam than anticipated. Still, the Elite in charge of the veteran wave knew this as well, but his orders were to hunt down and kill the rangers before circling back to finish the fight near the Dam. With time being so crucial and the sun beginning to set, the Elite of the Veteran wave ordered the sprint towards Boulder City.
Within half an hour, the massive force of Veterans had completed their rapid mobilization and continued their sprint to the outer edge of Boulder City. Expecting a volley on the way in, the column's sprint was slowed to a rapid march as every soldier there was more confused by the lack of enemy gunfire than anything. Upon entering the city limits, the buildings began to grow taller the further they marched. Their expected battle in the NCR's primary triage station, rally point, or reserve headquarters proved to be nothing but a lifeless ghost town.
All that changed when those first bombs went off.
When nearly half of the column was within the limits of Boulder City, the entire town appeared to explode. The Elite in charge of the wave was buried in the rubble, but a few of his staff's survivors crawled away disoriented and confused. Montano was just spared from the worst of those bombs, and managed to pull the Elite's radioman to his feet when gunshots began popping off in every direction. Aleron began his charge, leading a group of more collected veterans into the bursts coming through the dust. The Veteran Legionaries, despite watching half of their force disappear in the blasts, did what they did best and charged straight into the death before them. Montano pulled one of the explorers from the bricks and handed him off to a detachment of Praetorians sent on behalf of the Legate before raising his blade and leading another charge into the dust. The scene was a complete mess as those few who survived the explosions were too disoriented to fight and those who watched what happened were too confused about the instant death of their Elite to know what to do. Centurions and decani who had their heads on straight led many of the survivors into the rubble to meet with the rangers who appeared out of the blasts. Many other veterans fell to the guns before rangers across Boulder City found themselves in bloody brawls with Caesar's veterans. Many of those NCR rangers killed in the post-detonation slaughter still went to their ends knowing they completed their objective because the Veteran force, despite those who rallied, still found themselves in a completely disorganized frenzy. Somewhere in the chaos, either minutes or seconds after the city exploded, Aleron yanked his blade out of a ranger's abdomen when he heard it. At the same time, Montano ordered his group to flood the second floor of a ranger crow's nest and put a bullet in the head of a ranger reaching for his revolver when he heard the same thing.
On the east side of town and penetrating through the carnage, every veteran could hear the rapid tune of the emergency horn call. The call was one that each surviving veteran had heard at least once or twice in their years of servitude across Arizona, New Mexico, and even Colorado. This horn call was the one that said Caesar himself was in immediate danger: All the veterans there in Boulder City were well aware that Caesar was still bringing up the forces to be used in Vegas, but the sound of that horn call was taken to mean that Legate Graham had been killed or was under direct attack. Not knowing if this meant there was some kind of counterattack on the eastern side, or if one of the rangers managed to kill the legate after evading the cliff sweep, the message was still the same: All veterans, regardless of whether or not they were ready to die in Boulder City or not, were to immediately return to the Dam. There wasn't even time to consider how the news could have reached them. There was no accountability, and whether or not the order was given to the surviving radioman, a runner from the east, or if the call was given under panic, none of that mattered. As soon as the horn call ended, the veterans' withdrawal from Boulder City turned into a total retreat.
There are no remaining accounts of what exactly happened at Boulder City. Veteran forces were known across the southwest for decades to die to the last man before retreat, and many in Boulder City who survived the explosions died in that fight afterwards. One way or another, one reason or another, the truth remains: Caesar's forces in Boulder City ran away from the place just as fast as they ran into it.
When a Goliath falls a wave of silence sweeps across the lands. If the Great War proved anything, it's that even the most powerful nations of this earth mean very little when something even more enormous puts it in its place. The fall of those giants still shakes the very spirit of everyone who relied on that giant, leading to another continuation in the perpetual cycle of mankind's behaviors. No matter what kind of peace ensues after the Goliath had fallen, what comes later in that cycle will certainly not be devoid of wars and the spilling of blood. But the immediate aftermath still shows nothing less than total silence as the reality of what happened seeps in.
Montano peered through the dust, but it was a fruitless effort. Instead, he lifted his hand to remove his mask, and turned to place it in the satchel hanging by his side. The simple motion was painful. He winced at the turn of his torso, feeling where the bullet had clipped him before stuffing the mask into his pouch. He realized the removing of his mask was worthless when he had to raise his hands to his eyes to see through the dust blanketing the land. Still, he shuffled along, but a new pain arose in his torso where that bullet landed. He again didn't mind, embracing the pain of being shot, but even more irritated by the dust and wind as he leaned into it. He was pretty sure he was still following the road back to the Dam when he rounded another corner in the rocks and watched a trio of veterans limp past him, the two on the ends propping up their comrade in the middle who looked about dead. As soon as they disappeared into the smoke, another group of primes emerged from the dust on his right. Two of them stopped and dropped to their knees to return fired at something far out of view as the other three continued along the route of retreat. The burst of those primes' fire was deafening as Montano continued along. He considered stopping to lead them, but the second he began to change his course, he heard a spree of gunfire come from beyond the dust and the two primes fell over dead. Watching those Primes die, he gave a long exhale through his nose and continued along the road as even more veterans came running up the rear. Montano felt the pain in his abdomen flare up again and put his hand on the wound, feeling the blood wet his hand, he knew to keep moving forward... or backward. Back east, back the way he came. For the first time ever. He watched more Primes swarm past his peripherals, hearing the gunfire beneath the smoke and dust, knowing the Prime's retreat only occurred because the Veterans' withdrawal was mistaken for a retreat. Montano supposed it didn't matter at this point, the cowards would be killed, and Montano only hoped that he'd be allowed to carry out the order... Provided his Legate was alright. Montano truly did wonder if the Legate was alright, and truly wished he could have kept up with the other veterans if he wasn't so injured. None of that was relevant at the moment, Montano was hoping Raquel was proving useful in whatever was happening back at camp, and briefly wondered where his senior Falco had gone. Montano lost track of him, as well as most of his other forces not long after the explosions when-
Montano's thoughts were immediately interrupted when the wind cleared a cloud of black smoke and he could see the Dam beyond the dust haze. He was almost there. As Montano reoriented himself following along the road's guard rail, he watched another group of primes and recruits run past him. Montano saw another two turn around to cover the retreat only for them and three others to fall when a series of guns popped off somewhere behind him. Montano briefly patted himself for new injuries, somewhat bewildered that he was spared from that burst in his immediate rear. However, his attention was more focused on another figure that seemed to fall victim to the rattle of machinegun fire. Montano shuffled his way across the road, stepping over the primes in the road, and saw a centurion whose legs continued to buckle incessantly as he leaned on a rock. This officer in the completely shredded armor and excuse for a helm appeared to take quite an injury even before getting clipped in that short hale of lead. As Montano continued along the road, he admired the officer's determination to control his own legs when immediately another bullet came from the rear and floored him. Montano watched the bullet ricochet off a steel pauldron but knock the officer onto his face, and went to turn his attention forward when he saw the officer start crawling. At the same time, Montano noticed the markings of a veteran on the officer's battered shoulder plates and hobbled over the guard rail towards the fallen centurion. Montano lorded over the centurion and began to turn him over. The fallen centurion must have been expecting the trooper who floored him because as Montano turned him over, the centurion reached for the gun at his hip only stopping upon seeing it was another servant of Caesar... But that wasn't it though.
Montano stood over the centurion and the two locked eyes. There was something familiar about the architecture of the fallen officer's face. It was hard to identify anyone with a face as ripped up as this man's, at least until he noticed the blue inside those wrath-filled eyes. Aleron recognized the man above him almost instantly. He wondered where Montano's mask had gone if it apparently protected his face at the expense of its disappearance. Still, the man above Aleron appeared in nearly as terrible a state, even if his face was largely spared in this engagement, it still bore the lines and scars of countless other battles. The longer the two looked at one another, Aleron's hand hovering over the pistol grip eventually fell. Both had known just in that look, how both were there, both were dedicated, both were loyal, but both had failed despite their victories. After what felt like far too long, Montano wordlessly nodded at Aleron, Aleron did the same, and that was that. There was nothing to say, but plenty to do in this victory turned loss.
Montano slung Aleron's arm over his shoulder, and Aleron tried his best to assist Montano's help with his one good leg. The two maneuvered over the guard railing along the road and Aleron noticed when Montano grunted terribly at the turn of his torso. Aleron agreed not to mention the injury and Montano agreed not to let pressure fall on Aleron's crippled leg. They came to this agreement in their telepathic way and continued along as fewer veterans ran past and more primes fell beyond the dust and chaos. Just as the duo came to the edge of the visitor center, they had even more difficulty moving forward as the bodies were too many to quickly move over. Montano let out a terrible groan and nearly collapsed the two of them when Aleron put all his strength on his good leg to keep them upward. Montano internally thanked Aleron, and another passing group of primes was perforated by some close gunshots. Still, the two continued along, hearing the footsteps get close. Montano would never cry, even if Caesar ordered it, but tears of unbearable pain ran down his face as his body weakened and his rage took over for his ability to continue them along. Aleron, still with one near useless leg, and having been shot nearly a dozen times, was very thankful for his armor's stopping power, despite his current uselessness, continued blood loss, and crippled state. Montano continued to carry the two along, but his power was entirely focused on the movement forward. He couldn't do anything to stop it when he saw the soldiers in brown emerge from the dust on his left and shout, "Stop right there!"
Montano continued carrying them forward, barely hearing the words through the pain making his mind scream. Aleron still somewhat fading in and out of consciousness from all the blasts and bullets that hit his body in one day, was uncertain if he heard the words. Then the figures in the dust said, "Stop, or we will fire upon you!... Captain, Legion retreat appears to have moved past Dam sector-" Immediately, Aleron broke from his struggle for consciousness as he emptied his 12.7mm handgun at those shadows. Killing two or three or who even knew, Aleron could not reload with only one hand, and let the gun fall from his grip as Montano thanked Aleron with a silent and agonized nod as he continued them onward.
In one final stretch, Montano and Aleron shuffled past the visitor center, both in terrible pain and into a cloud of black smoke from a nearby fire. Another group of Primes ran past them in the smoke and more NCR forces congregated back the way they came. When Montano finally emerged from the black cloud with his sworn enemy propped on his shoulders, they emerged into the clearing, seeing tattered and destroyed groups of Veterans, Primes, and Recruits withdrawing or outright fleeing back across the Dam.
Atop the eastern cliffs, Legate Graham stood speechless, watching the Veterans' return from Boulder City turn the rest of the force into a complete route. He didn't know who ordered the retreat from Boulder City or who reported his death, or even if the accounts he heard were reliable. One way or another, whether it was a miscommunication, sabotage, or a fight so terrible it would actually make the veteran wave retreat, the result spoke for itself. As Graham watched the battle turn into an all-out retreat, he was too stunned to do anything. His praetorians asked if he wanted an investigation into the cause of retreat, but the Legate stayed silent. His staff asked if he'd like the commanders killed, but he remained silent. They asked if he would have the fleeing troops be killed, if he would give new orders to redirect the attack, if he'd like to rally, establish defensive positions, etc, etc... Graham remained silent.
Graham watched the last of his forces cross the Dam, ignoring the pleas from his Praetorians to take some sort of action, but Graham remained silent, standing frozen in place, not scared, not upset, just realizing he had died a long time ago, but this moment was where he actually felt it.
Legate Graham stayed on that cliff overlooking the Dam long after the sun had set, and long after his staff took it upon themselves to organize the surviving forces. He watched the dust and smoke settle as the night took over and the lights from that Rome beyond the mountains reflected off the moon, showing NCR soldiers begin the solemn work of retaking the Dam. More hours passed and more NCR forces populated the Dam top, stacking the bodies of soldiers from both sides, and fortifying new positions. Many rangers saw the smoke from the Legion's camps in the east, but pursuit orders were called off when their chief and generals saw the lone figure watching over the west.
Graham was in a hundred sights throughout the night, but all requests to fire were denied by NCR's command. Some in the NCR's army speculated that the figure watching them would face Caesar's wrath while others wondered if the commander on the eastern cliffs merely let them win the day for some reason nobody on earth could explain. Many of the younger troopers and rangers saw the withdrawal and immediately took credit for the victory while older and more experienced ones, many of the ones in the Boulder City ambush expected to be forced to kill the remainder of the veteran wave having experience with what kind of enemy they were facing. Those old rangers who watched the Legion's best found it hard to take full credit for the victory and concluded that there must have been some kind of mysterious intervention that caused their victory, but just as it was said before: The result was the same. There was no victory party on either side, especially the Legion's. The NCR continued their morbid work of sorting and disposing of the dead that littered the entire region, and that lone figure continued to watch them from those cliffs throughout the night.
By the break of dawn, Graham had vanished from the eastern cliffs and his first orders to his praetorian staff were to release all the recently incarcerated commanders.
Aleron and Montano were released from prisoner cells by the praetorians along with all the other surviving commanders, and nearly all of them were immediately taken to the healing shelters while Graham entered his command domicile, never to come out on his own again.