V. Liberating the Front
As the dark mask of night eased off its hold on the Wasteland, The Courier could see the world for what it really was. Sunlight of the dawn tipped over Colorado, irradiating Saint Lucas in an eerie glow, but that was not the problem by any means. Saint Lucas itself, the town bordered in by five foot high sand stone walls, was under attack by the most fearful of enemies, the assumed peace of the religion-orientated town struck down by a sea of pale orange skeletal figures, merely only covered in skin that acted more as clothing rather than to protect the muscle, or what was left of it.
They swarmed in masses all over the small town, attacking troopers in packs; dividing and conquering their targets with brutal bludgeoning of their radiation hardened bones. The tore and slashed, ripped and bit at the defiant NCR troopers and town guards, bathing in muzzle flashes that may take one down, but that one would be replaced by two more. Flesh flew, chunks chattered with bone on the early morning sun lit ground. This was true chaos, chaos like no other. Nor was it orderly or needed, but unforgiving and relentless.
Suddenly, the gunship roared in rebuttal, the dual Laser cannons letting loose thousands of long red beams by the second. The kickback battered into the belly of the Vertibird, sending Oliver off of his seat and onto the metal floor, to which the Courier laughed at openly.
Picking himself up, the General swore under his breath as he went to the door release switch, pulling back the lever so as the door would recline right. Gushes of fuel soaked wind penetrated Paylor's lungs, but he wasn't there long enough to take in the scent, for Oliver had already given him a rappel rope.
"Get down there, secure the goddamn town and kill those rotting bastards!" he roared, trying to kindle enthusiasm in the two troopers who, pale faced, fumbled with the cord around their belts.
Fastening the Metal clip around the strongest part of the Riot armour's belt, The Courier spun the small cylindrical coil into place, locking him in. Turning to the General and nodding, he inhaled one last time hoping that it wasn't his last and dived head first out of the Vertibird.
The air around him rushed and spat at him, darting right into his face before diverting around his body to cover the space that he left in his wake. Adrenaline coursing rapidly through his veins, he watched as Saint Lucas became closer and closer through his Riot helmet slash gas mask. He continued free falling until he was about ten meters from the ground, where the Vertibird, still firing the dual Gatling Lasers, hung in the air in order to let him descend manually. His body suddenly coming to an almighty stop in mid air, he began his decent from the single spot, standing upright. He checked that the AK was still there, which it was, and decided that he had everything he needed.
His feet touched the ground, and the light headedness he felt from falling evaporated instantly as reality came back into place. He had landed right in the middle of Saint Lucas, with the church close by, along with a handful of troopers and guards doing their best to repel the horde. Gravity had done his job, and he was now right in the thick of it, and that was where he belonged.
Hitting the ground with a clack of boots hitting a well worn surface, The Courier unspun the cylinder clip, freeing him from the grasp of the Vertibird and entering him into the Battle for Saint Lucas.
On all sides there were Feral Ghouls, alerted to his presence, and from all sides they began to swarm. Gripping the AK47 in both hands, his right index finger slid into the trigger grip and, snapping the rifle up to his shoulder, he took aim at the nearest Ghoul and fired.
The burst of 5.56mm rounds penetrated the patchy flesh of the Ghoul in the chest area, cracking bone and dropping it with a withering hiss. Snapping to a second Ghoul, he fired again, and again on a third, and a fourth, and a fifth until he had shot a path directly to the church. He was about to make a break for the building when a trooper stumbled in front of him, Ghoul hot on his heels. Being taken down by the creature, the trooper tried to fight it off, but was overwhelmed by panic and fear. The Courier acted fast grabbing the Ghoul and yanking it by the neck off of the trooper to the floor. A burst of gunfire followed, and the young soldier gazed up at his saviour, then down to the bleeding Ghoul, then back up to The Courier.
"Th…Thank you!" he stammered. It was one of the troopers that had been in the Vertibird.
"Don't worry about it man!" Paylor extended a hand that the man took, pulling him to his feet. "Tell half of whoever we have left to focus on the North gate" he pointed over to the second archway that occasionally bled the withered figures of Ghouls from the entrance "The rest will clean up the remainder here!"
Nodding, the trooper bolted off, waving his hands and issuing commands that were well out of his jurisdiction. It just occurred to him that The Courier hadn't asked for his name. He made a mental not to do that, before dropping the clip from the magazine holder on his AK and loading a new one in from his bandolier with a satisfying click.
The battle raged on, and the tide began to turn on the invading Ghoul army. The Courier and the NCR troops assisted the town guards in clearing out the remaining ones within their walls before stemming the tide at the North gate.
The Gunship's dual Gatling Lasers spun into life, tearing wrinkled flesh from bone in streaks of brilliant red beams. The Courier and the soldiers had to dance around them as the shot, punched and slashed the Ghouls to the ground once and for all. As the last one inside Saint Lucas fell, the NCR Snipers positioned atop the Church made quick work of any stragglers who made a mad dash for the wave of gunfire that was about to befall them. Soon enough, as the dust and cordite ladened smoke settled, the Ghouls were defeated.
Exhaling with a sense of pride, The Courier, now placed at the Northern gate, started walking back to the church. A different buzz had taken a grasp on the troops, not working on moving the Ghouls' bodies outside the town as some of the Saint Lucas citizens began leaving the church.
"…And then I took it out with one punch!" he heard a child tell his still visibly shaken mother as they passed by.
From the large oaken doors of the church, a wave of people flooded. The traders, the families and the dignitaries made their way outside, each wiping off sweat from their brow as though nothing happened. The Courier hated that, how some people valued their lives more than others enough to hide. He could understand the kids and the mothers, but anyone else should be told to take a gun and start shooting. He guessed the leader of church, the minister they called them in these circles, would be out soon.
No sooner had the thoughts materialised in his head, a well poised figure drifted out of the church and onto the bloody land that was his town. White, wispy hair extended from his aged head, taking the current fears and pains of the Wasteland in his stride with the dark papal frock hanging draped over his body.
"You must be Courier Six…" he greeted me, holding out a hand for me to take "The General was telling me about you, I am Reverend Paul Franklin… "
Taking his hand to shake, Paylor was slightly taken aback when the minister bent down and kissed his knuckles. That must have been customary greeting, he assumed.
"I assume you are here to barter Saint Lucas into the Republic's hands?" affronting the Courier, he didn't stop, instead walking past him over in the direction of the houses.
"The Republic and I are merely business partners" The Courier stressed "What you do with your town is solely your decision"
There was a gap in their speech while the reverend chose his words carefully. He did not want to offend this "Courier", as it may hamper their chances with the Republic. A man of incredibly experience that coupled with his age, Reverend Franklin was well aware of the NCR's reach, extending from the Mojave all the way back west to Navarro. He was also aware, however, that they were an ever swelling mass, intent on taking control of any lands they see fit. The term "annexation" was such a loose term to them, and usually involved the military.
"Would you like to hear the history of Saint Lucas, Courier Six?" he offered, keeping his calm but airy tone as they headed towards a group of soldiers who were stationed near
"Erm…If you would give the time to explain it, yes!" the Courier ended unnervingly cheerily.
"Saint Lucas was founded on the principals on a man, not surprisingly, named Lucas. Long before the times of the Legion, he settled down with his followers on the lands that God had led him to, near the church that you have just defended. Lucas was not a stupid man, and was aware that the political landscape around him would change, but endeared to himself that he would not falter to such." The minister paused for breath, then stopped abruptly "However the rise of the Legion gripped the town…." He turned and the Courier saw that his face was contorted into a visible pain "…they raped…murdered…slaughtered our woman…all in order to carved a blood stained path to the West…" turning away, he voice regained some composure, resettling into the authoritative tone he had previously "so we hold grudges to the Legion, and are just in the process of rebuilding. While we are grateful for your work at Hoover Dam, we do not want a repeat of the violence we see here today…So in short, I accept the demands your General set down…just do not let history repeat itself, Courier…"
Not knowing what to say, Paylor merely nodded. There wasn't much to say, Saint Lucas was the NCR's, so the first half of his job was finished. He was, however, surprised at Reverend Franklin's story…but that would come later.
"Now that that is out of the way" the minister once again faced The Courier, electricity flowing through his greying eyes and extending his wispy white hair "I believe there is a meeting you must attend."