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October 23rd, 2281, 7:21 a.m.
"Shit, fuck, bitch!"
Private Hicks desperately pulled himself across the concrete floor of the Hoover Dam power plant, his left leg dragging uselessly behind him. His goal was the door – he didn't even remember where it led; he just knew he needed to get to the other side of it. Maybe I can seal it from the other side! It shouldn't be that hard to do, right? he thought humorlessly.
He still heard the heavy footsteps of the huge Centurion over the reverberations of the dam and the sound of combat. That guy must weigh a ton! Hicks speculated, as he continued to verbally spout profanities. The Private had been hit by a stray ricochet when the Legion commander first charged the NCR fortifications, and had been crawling to the doorway ever since. Behind him, he heard the Centurion make quick work of the remaining NCR troopers.
The sounds of conflict ended with a brutal impact of metal on metal followed by muted gasps. Glancing back, he saw that the Centurion had caved in a Heavy Trooper's chestplate. The tempered armor, now concave, was slowly killing the poor bastard stuck inside. The trooper weakly raised his rifle for one last shot at the hulking figure, but the Centurion kicked the weapon aside, causing it to slide towards Hicks' crawling form. As it slid, Hicks finally got a good look at the monster that had decimated his squad.
The man was closer to seven feet than six, and his muscular frame seemed more similar to a super mutant's than a human's. His right arm was clad in the remnants of power armor clasped together with tempered plates of metal. Bits and pieces of various tribal and Legion armors adorned the rest of his body and his feet were shod in heavy boots. His chest was scarred with a vicious cut that had healed poorly – the flesh still flaring angrily. A thick beard covered the Centurion's face and his dirty blonde hair ran long and wild, unrestrained by the helmet customary of those of his rank. His eyes were blue and feral, and Hicks saw that they were now looking directly at him. The Centurion's lips parted in a sadistic smile and he began to slowly stalk the prone Private.
"Fuck, shit, cun-" Hicks continued, turning back and pulling himself across the floor until a boot pressed against the flat of his back, pushing the air out of his lungs in a rush which caused his next planned profanity to end prematurely.
"Going somewhere, my little profligate?" the Centurion cooed mockingly, his voice rumbling and soothing. "Your hurry seems misplaced I think, as your welcoming party for Cesar has barely even started. He thanks you for your willingness to test his might, but unfortunately, you have been found lacking. Now… calm heart and hold self still." Hicks felt the boot lift off his back and reached weakly for the door.
With a hiss, the hatchway opened and an armored figure stepped through it. Hicks' gaze moved up the power armor clad behemoth that now stood before him. This was not the NCR's imitation of power armor, or even the advanced type used by the Brotherhood of Steel. This power armor was dark and cackled with green lightning from pylons across its frame. Two power gauntlets were connected seamlessly to the arm guards of the armor. One was a pneumatic fist made of a peculiarly colored metal and the other resembled the ballistic fists used by Caesar's Praetorians. The shoulder guards of the armor connected together, creating a crest that rose behind the wearer's head and served to highlight the seemingly out-of-place headpiece, which appeared to be a standard combat helmet that had been adorned with feathers and the lower jaw of a great carnivore.
The figure stood confident, despite the fact that it alone faced seven legion veterans, including the hulking Centurion. Letting its pneumatic fist rest lightly on its hip, it was somehow able to portray an aura of smugness and haughtiness through the heavy armor. "Leave him be, Ursus," a muffled female voice stated. "I'm a big proponent for romance, so I really think you should wine and dine him a bit before you give him the shaft… or the sledge…"
"Veronica, my lovely futatrix, wherever did you find such ghastly armor?" Ursus said, seemingly distracted as he stepped away from Private Hicks and began to pace in a half circle around the doorway. The Legionaries behind him shifted and chuckled with his choice of words, but remained in position and alert. "Last I heard you stepped away from your Brotherhood and their technology, yet here you stand in their regalia of the old world."
"Oh… it's not theirs," Veronica replied offhandedly as she lifted her ballistic fist and seemed to inspect her nails, buried as they were under protective hide and metal. "It's Gannon's."
Ursus paused momentarily at this before continuing to pace, his eyes darkening. He began to spin his sledge in a lazy circle as he walked, causing his Legionaries to stiffen to attention. "Ahh… Enclave," he continued. "So, the good doctor survived our last encounter? He has more fortitude than I gave credit for."
"Yeah, next time you might want to swing at both 'doctors." Veronica said, mimicking the quotations for doctors with her ballistic fist. "The Courier… Sorry… Denn was able to fix him up right as rain after he chased you off — nice scar by the way. Guess you don't get to be 'one swing McGee' anymore. You even managed to secure the Remnant's allegiance with your little betrayal, so I guess we owe you one," Veronica quipped, giving Ursus a thumbs up.
Ursus smiled, rubbing his neck with his free hand. "Denn and I parted in less than favorable circumstances I admit." His pacing slowed and he seemed to lose himself for a moment before turning his attention back to Veronica. "Speaking of unfavorable partings, what would your Brotherhood think if they saw you in such way? Wearing armor of their greatest rivals and enemies would likely fill them with righteous indignation, yes? Why, they might even take it upon themselves to slaughter an innocent outpost of Followers – they do seem to enjoy such outings." Ursus's smile widened as Veronica stiffened. "Yes, we heard what self-exile has done to those you wish to help." Ursus gestured to Hicks with his sledge as he passed, sending it in one last spin before resting it on his shoulder and stopping to stand over the prone soldier. "I wonder how involvement will help this man?"
Veronica glanced at the NCR soldier. The Private had started to completely fall into shock and appeared to have lost all sense of the world around him. Soon he would bleed out. Behind her helmet Veronica winced; she didn't see how she could get him out of this. Her main goal was to keep Ursus busy while Denn turned on the dam's turbine to flush the Legion troops through the grinder. She couldn't outrun Ursus and his Legionaries while carrying the fallen soldier, so the plan of running away (or as she had said to Denn, "a decisive tactical retreat") was out. She sighed, seeing only one option. "Damn my rampant selflessness and unquestionable heroism," she muttered softly while dropping into a relaxed stance as she sent power from her suit to her Saturanite power fist.
Ursus grinned at the now crouched figure. "Ah, this fight has been long in coming," he said quietly, gripping his sledge tightly. The Centurion glanced down at Private Hicks. "What say we remove all distractions, yes?"
Veronica's eyes widened as Ursus half-turned, gripping his sledge with both hands and lining up a strike at the private's crumpled form. The servos in her armor leaped into movement as time seemed to slow and she lunged desperately to intercept the crushing blow. In an instant, she closed the distance between them and managed to halt the vicious swing, both her hands gripping the massive weapon.
"Impressive my dear profligate," Ursus growled softly, sadistic grin still in place as he bore down on his weapon, forcing Veronica's arms to bend. "I have feeling this will not be over quickly."
"I'm counting on it," Veronica muttered, her armor grinding against the impossible strength of the man before her. Unexpectedly, she pulled the sledge towards her and drove her helmeted forehead into the bridge of her taller opponent's nose. His grin turned into a grimace and he yanked back, pulling his weapon from her grasp and putting space between them. Veronica remained in place, protecting the fallen form of the Private. "That's three now you've failed to kill, by my count, Ursus. Better be careful; I hear you have a reputation to maintain."
"Finally using your head instead of your heart to fight your battles? Surprising," Ursus replied through his grimace, wiping away the blood that dripped from his nose. "Very well. Now for surprise of my own." Ursus pulled a mircrofusion cell from his belt and pressed it into a slot in the shaft of his super sledge. A high-pitched whine joined the chorus of the dam's turbines and arcs of blue energy began to lance from his weapon's head. "You are not the only one to be rewarded for loyalty," He stated, slamming his sledge into the concrete, causing it to release a burst of energy and an explosion of sparks. His voice rose in anger as he yelled, "Come now profligate! Find your peace in death!" Spinning his sledge through the air, he charged the former Brotherhood Scribe.
"Me and my big mouth…" Veronica deadpanned as she sidestepped away from the viciously humming weapon. Ursus followed her movements and swung his sledge horizontally, holding the shaft with one hand and turning with the swing to increase the range of his weapon as it whistled through the air. Veronica hopped back while simultaneously lowering her center of gravity and leaned her torso away from the weapon, using Ursus' height to her advantage to dip under the sledge as it passed an inch from her helmet. She straightened and dashed in after his attack, shifting her weight to line up a strike at what should have been an off-balance opponent.
However, Ursus was no novice to battle. His swing was not intended to connect and had very little strength behind it. As he continued to turn, he moved his free hand to the bottom of the shaft and allowed his other hand to slide up, sending his sledge in a quick rotation over his head as he did so. Planting his feet as he completed his spin, Ursus swung his sledge in an impossibly fast upswing, catching Veronica's arm just before her fist connected with his torso. The swing had relatively little physical strength behind it, but as it struck her armor, a fury of sparks erupted and the servos in that arm began to grind and fail.
Veronica leaped back, her arm now frozen mid strike as the power armor clamped around it. She could no longer bend her elbow, but her shoulder joint remained operable, allowing her to retain most of her dexterity. She danced away from her opponent. Her armor had protected her arm from being shattered, but her left fist was now offensively useless.
The readout projected on her helmet's visor indicated that it could be possible for her to return power to her frozen appendage, but only after a system reboot. The rest of her power armor remained unaffected and Ursus had not followed her, instead standing in the same spot, watching her closely. He seemed curious, but more importantly, he now stood between her and the door she had emerged from. Grasping at straws, Veronica decided to try her luck at deception. "Nice swing, 'sparky.' It's a shame it didn't do much," Veronica bluffed, hoping to keep him wary of her now-frozen limb.
Ursus ejected the drained microfusion cell from his sledge and calmly inserted another, watching Veronica's movements as he did so. "Old world tech so difficult to maintain," he stated humorlessly as his sledge began to hum with energy again. "Introduce unexpected factor and what was advantage becomes liability. All armor in world is useless when power will not flow." He brought his sledge in front of his torso as he spoke and began to stalk forward. "Is shame your helmet is not old world tech. If I disabled that maybe it would stop incessant chatter."
"Well technically it's half old tech, but come on, I know how you love to talk! Hell, I'm probably the first real conversation you've had in months!" Veronica replied sardonically, circling around and doing her best to keep space between them. Space was limited however, and it was a commodity she was quickly running out of.
At that moment the hum of the dam increased twofold, and screams echoed from deeper within the structure. The Legion under Ursus' command snapped their rifles towards the screams and stood ill at ease. Gunfire continued to echo through the halls, but with decreasing frequency. Ursus stopped stalking his prey and gestured to one of the Legionaries. The soldier pulled out what appeared to be a makeshift radio and began to speak into it earnestly. He waited for a response, but the radio released only static. The Legionary looked towards Ursus and shook his head, returning the radio to its resting place and picking up his rifle.
Ursus sighed, "Ah, deception. Denn has engaged the turbine?" He asked Veronica, standing again at ease with his sledge resting on his shoulder.
"It was the plan all along!" Veronica admitted, relaxing and sassily resting her hand on her hip. The stance was slightly awkward this time, however, as her other arm was frozen stiff. "Little old me was just supposed to keep you chattin' long enough for the bossman to slip down and turn on the blender. Guess your little sneak attack is over."
Frowning at her, Ursus gestured towards Private Hicks' fallen body and the Legionary with the radio quickly fired a short salvo into him. As the bullets thudded into the prone body, Veronica dropped her cocky stance and froze – her knee-jerk reaction to jump to fallen soldier's aid. It was too late. She choked back a scream and slumped forward. The world blacked out until all that remained was herself and the late NCR Private, his blood pooling on the smooth concrete and dripping through a metal grate.
Suddenly, she was back in the Follower's outpost. Bodies of doctors – good people – lay strewn about, and the ashes of vaporized corpses covered the floor. Heavy boot-prints were imprinted in the fine ash and loose bullet casings littered the ground. Golden hair caked with blood fell weightlessly through the air.
Her family had done this – the people she had grown up with, fought with, laughed with and cried with. They had murdered these people, her friends, for what they might have known. Veronica hadn't told the Followers anything, but they had been murdered because of her all the same. All she wanted to do was help; all she had ever wanted to do was help, but she never could. She couldn't help the Followers any more than she had helped the helpless NCR soldier. Her mind slipped back into the present, the vision having lasted only a few short seconds.
" – Eastern door, I take West. We will hold until Lanius pushes them from the dam." Ursus was in the middle of giving orders to his Legionaries. Veronica's eyes narrowed into slits as her grief and despair turned to rage. Unable to control her cascading anger, she charged, releasing a scream drawn from the farthest reaches of her subconscious.
Ursus was not unprepared for her attack, but he was unprepared for her ferocity. Seemingly unrestricted by the heavy armor, she followed his every movement as he desperately backpedaled away from her bombardment. Raining blows on his huge frame, her armor sparked angrily and her generator hummed fiercely. It was impossible for Ursus to avoid all of her attacks, and every impact left his skin burned from contact with her glowing weapon.
The Centurion swung his sledge expertly, but Veronica kept herself too close for him to put any power in his strikes. She used her frozen arm as a makeshift shield, blocking blows that would have disabled other sections of her armor. Screaming with rage, she continued to bash away at her target with abandon, battering the hulking Centurion with barbaric fury. Her anger was playing out, however, and her opponent could withstand all the punishment she could send his way.
Ursus was not an opponent to face while lost to emotion. He bided his time through Veronica's assault, waiting for his opportune moment to retaliate. The moment came when Veronica again used her disabled arm to block one of his strikes but did not immediately pull away to ready another swing. Taking his hand from the shaft of the weapon, he pushed his sledge into the crook of her arm, turning and pulling his armored opponent off balance using his increased leverage. Keeping Veronica from regaining her footing with his continuous momentum, Ursus spun her in circles until he reached the wall, slamming her viciously against it.
Keeping her pressed against the wall, though she struggled to push him off, Ursus quickly ejected his empty microfusion cell from his weapon and slipped in another. Activating the weapon, he pushed the head of the sledge against Veronica's chestplate, releasing a ferocious discharge of blue energy and causing her generator to grind to a halt. Veronica was now trapped within her armor. Moving without power was difficult on its own, but under the weight of the gargantuan Ursus, it was impossible.
Ursus panted heavily as he freed his sledge from Veronica's frozen arm. He pushed her shoulder up against the wall, forcing her back flush with the concrete and completely trapping her Saturnite fist beneath her. "Know I bear you no personal animosity," Ursus began after his breathing had returned to normal. "The time with you, Denn, and the others taught me much of the nature of the west. You fought well and deserve a warrior's death. Any final words?"
Veronica's voice was muffled and rang out metallically from her helmet, "Eat a dick you mostly-hairless ape!" She continued to struggle against his weight, but had no leverage with which to free herself.
Ursus sighed and raised his sledge, slamming it into the chestplate of Veronica's armor. The steel held, but the blow drove the air from her lungs and left her disoriented. "Very well… find peace in whatever afterlife you may," Ursus said quietly. Stepping off Veronica's shoulder, he readied a vicious blow aimed at the former Scribe's head.
Veronica looked past Ursus' feet to the corpse of Hicks, his eyes starring emptily back at her. The legion soldiers were working behind the body to move the defensive fortifications of the NCR back into place.
As Veronica looked into the eyes of the corpse, a glint of movement caught her eye. A tin can was falling seemingly out of nowhere towards the cluster of Legion troops. As her attention was drawn to the oddity, it exploded, transforming the thin metal into a devastating blast of concussive force, followed by a flood of blue plasma. The Legion troops covered with the boiling liquid screamed as the concoction burned through their armor and skin, leaving those who survived the initial blast to die in blistering agony.
An armored form dropped from the ceiling and tossed another small container towards Ursus and Veronica, causing the Centurion to dive away from the projectile as it flew towards him. Veronica's eyes widened in terror as a weapon identical to the one that had devastated the Legion soldiers sailed towards her face, seeming to grow larger as it approached her.
The explosive hit her faceplate with a slight ping and glanced harmlessly to the floor, rolling in a small circle before coming to a stop. A small laugh came from the source of the can and the man who had caused the devastation and confusion began to walk towards the two prone combatants.
The figure wore riot armor covered with a brown duster similar to the uniform worn by the NCR Rangers. Unlike the armor popular with the Rangers, however, this armor featured two green shoulder guards and heavier gauntlets. His forearm was adorned with a battered Pip-Boy 3000 that gave off a dull glow, creating slight shadows across his frame. A rebreather covered his mouth and nose and a reinforced combat helmet concealed the rest of his face. He had no firearms to speak of, but a series of bandoleers across his chest carried numerous explosives and what appeared to be small throwing weapons. A curved machete was holstered in his belt, and another two knives were held in sheaths integrated into his boots, which seemed excessively bulky and gave off a slight metallic sound as he walked.
"Ursus you self-righteous son-of-a-bitch!" The approaching figure spoke evenly despite the rebreather he wore. "I know Caesar is charismatic to a fault, but how did he convince you to lead this suicide mission? I mean; you clambered through a turbine into a dam swarming with NCR! Certainly your skills would have been better put to use in the battle above?"
Ursus rose cautiously, keeping his eyes on the approaching figure. "It is penalty for my failure in infiltrating your NCR. It was certainly not my choice, nor his. No soldier is held in favor or above reproach. Though truthfully, we did not expect you to be present for the assault. Were you not supposed to be investigating a mysterious message?"
The figure stopped a respectful distance from the rising giant, bringing his arms behind him and standing at attention as he continued to converse with the battered Centurion. "As to my supposed absence, you really should make sure your sources are un-compromised before basing an entire assault on their intel – my team returned days ago, and as much as I wish it were 'my' NCR, our goals unfortunately do not align. Would that your Caesar was more reasonable, I might have been aiding you in this assault instead of them."
Veronica frowned underneath her faceplate. Denn had never spoken of his relationship with the NCR in such a way before. By all appearances, he was happy to work with them in their defense against Caesar's Legion, but his last statement seemed sincere. Veronica shuddered slightly at the thought of the Courier aiding the vicious invaders from the east.
"You all right, Veronica?" Denn asked, seeming to sense her uncomfortable train of thought.
"Peachy. Just can't seem to move," Veronica grunted metallically. "Ursus' got a new play-toy that does wonders with Old World tech."
"Noted. Now Ursus," Denn continued, "since I have relived you of your Legionaries, would you be so kind as to surrender?"
Ursus's gaze moved to the floor as his eyes hardened. "You know that is impossible my friend," he said quietly through gritted teeth. "I live as Legion and will die the same. As appreciative as I am for the offer, I will fight to my last before being put in NCR chains."
"You wouldn't go to the NCR," Denn replied evenly. "You wouldn't even be a prisoner. I need people like you, Ursus. This world needs the strength you have, and I would sooner destroy a work of art than kill you. Caesar throws away your strength because of tradition, ignoring practicality and reason. That is why he will fall, sooner rather than later, and when he does, his Legion will follow. I will make sure it does."
Veronica stared at Denn with her mouth agape. Ursus had viciously attacked not only her, but also Denn himself, and here the Courier was asking for the brutal Centurion to join them. Molten rage billowed from deep within her and she struggled desperately to rise to her knees. "Are you insane, you chem-addled idiot!?" she said loudly. "You know you can't trust this man! He betrayed you and tried to kill Gannon! He murders your allies in cold blood! This man," Veronica struggled to point her plated finger towards Ursus, "spent months learning about us and our personal lives to use that knowledge against us, but here you are asking him to join us like none of–"
Denn held up his hand and turned towards her, trying to calm her outrage. Veronica continued to rise but held her anger in check, glaring towards Ursus. Turning back to the Centurion, Denn sighed, "She's right. I have every reason to distrust you… and I do, but I also know the man who faced deathclaws with nothing but an axe in order to save my life. I know the man who told me of his upbringing within the Legion, trusting me to keep that knowledge to myself. I know the man who saved a dying friend of mine whom he had every reason to hate. This is the man I give the option to leave the Legion and help me create a new world. My friend, I need you."
Ursus stared at Denn, his brow furrowed. The moments passed slowly as the turbines of the dam continued to hum. "You speak truth," he said finally. "Caesar's Legion will die with him, but it is not something I can willingly abandon. I have fought for him since I can remember. He is as inseparable from my own as my arm or my heart. My life is for the Legion, and for the Legion I will die. You have my thanks, my friend. I know you do not make this offer lightly, and I know what pain my actions have caused." He looked towards Veronica, "I spoke truth when I said I hold no personal animosity. You are a fine warrior, and should be welcome into the ranks of the Legion, but it is not so. I hope you will live a long, fulfilling life my friend." He lowered his head in a small bow and turned back towards Denn. "My answer is no, but I wish you luck in creating your new world. I am sorry it has no place for me."
Denn stood silently, unmoving as the seconds passed. "As you will," he said, sadness in his voice. He moved his hands from behind him and reached into his duster with one while releasing a clasp on his rebreather with the other, letting it fall loosely to one side. Pulling a flask out of his coat, he the took a deep swallow of its contents before tossing the container to Ursus. "My own mix, a variant of the Battle Brew we engineered together."
Ursus took a hearty swig, grinning as the liquid burned its way down his throat. "Has more bite than I remember, what is different?"
"I added a concoction from the canyons of Zion," Denn answered, shaking his head and reattaching his rebreather as the potent liquid began to take effect. "Slight hallucinogen – made the natives go abstractly crazy! Deadens the pain nicely though." Denn coughed into his rebreather, wheezing slightly.
"Maybe should water it down some," Ursus quipped. "Appears to be too hard for your sensibilities." Denn waved him off and the Centurion smiled again, tossing the flask back to the Courier.
Ursus straightened his back, stretching and shaking his muscles out. Once more he ejected the spent microfusion cell from his sledge and inserted another. "I hate long goodbyes." He said quietly.
Denn put his flask back into his coat and unsheathed his curved machete, spinning it deftly before raising it in a salute. "Goodbye, my friend." Denn said grimly, slicing the blade down before stalking forward lightly.