Sorry for the long wait, I had to do some stuff for a thing yesterday. Yep.
"Brute force has resolved more conflicts throughout human history than any other action. Any thoughts to the contrary are self delusion at its worst." -Unknown.
The Caesar was the first obstacle in the reclamation of America. His "legion" an its actual presence were negligible, their forces only fought in direct conflict once, but word of their destruction would reach those within the wasteland. some becoming hopeful at a restored America, others finding no comfort in the news, having started to carve their own empires from the flesh of America.
Navarro had become a thriving center of activity for the enclave. Its oil refineries producing fuel for the helicopters that were the heart of enclave mobility. The peoples of the enclave were at first hesitant to inhabit the area, having heard about the fate of Caesar's traitors. Once the formidable scientific minds on the oil rig had confirmed it safe however, the common people flocked to Navarro. For the first time in three months they were able to breath fresh air without needing respirator masks to protect them from industrial fumes and the occasional electrical fire. They were able to sleep without the constant rattle of the superstructure beneath them, and the groaning as sea waves pounded their refuge. But most of all, they were able to see what could be reclaimed. What American endurance could create.
For the first time in years, they had hope.
In a bunker a few miles from the newest center of American power, a meeting was taking place between those who would see America's future crushed forever.
"They won". A figure stated, wearing a suit of power armor not unlike that of the reclamation forces in Navarro.
"Of course they won, the legion was just a distraction." Stated another, this one wearing robes.
"The "distraction" obviously failed, as they're nearly a year ahead of your schedule". The first replied.
"How was I supposed to plan for a radiation storm? We will just have to accelerate our plans as well. Gather the rabble we found outside vault 15 and start training them;They need to be combat ready by march."
"What will we do in the meantime?"
A third figure stepped forward, wearing armor with a red circle on a white background emblazoned on the front. He placed a map and drawings of ships on the table, and the three began to plan their attack.
Back on the oil rig, a similar scene was unfolding.
"We won." The president (or six as he was know to those around him) stated to the assembled monitors embedded in the wall.
"WE" "Did not win. The radiation scoured those heathens for us. This was no more a victory than the war itself."
"The public doesn't care. We've taken back the first shreds of American soil, and damn if we haven't restored their confidence in us."
"The public doesn't matter. Have you forgotten our plan? Once we reach the Mojave, we leave this damnable planet, whether house is alive or not."
"Is House alive?" The president inquired. He hoped not.
"We have no clue. He hasn't been on contact, but Vault 21 has opened and started searching Vegas."
"Speaking of the vaults, what were you thinking having their experiments stopped? They were set in place for very good reason."
The president straightened, and took a breath.
"The Vaults hold the last unchanged humans outside our respective shelters. They need to be protected."
"Just because you are the biggest group, doesn't mean you get to decide what our future is. Your bleeding heart will cost more lives than it will save".
"My "Bleeding heart" has saved America, soul intact."
"America doesn't matter. This entire planet is doomed. You need to get back in line."
- A little note about the president. He wasn't the "lie to your face" kind of politician. He got to his office by charming his way into America's heart and being decisive on what the response to Chinese aggression would be. This gained him no friends in the ruling caste of the enclave. Everyone below him would die for him, but those on his level would see him dead. He was also by no means a stupid man, and when the apocalypse came he had managed to have the most resources placed in his facility. This made him irreplaceable.-
"I draw the line now, and you should be glad I allow you to live. I have the most men, most scientists, most fuel, and the most citizenry. I will not leave them to die in some irradiated gutter. I will not leave until America is restored. Whether or not I have to drive you out of your holes is another matter." The president meant every word he said. They knew this.
"You will regret this."
"I regret nothing."
Just like that, three of the screens clicked off. The remaining two waited a few seconds to speak.
"They will come after you now" said the first.
"They will try to ruin you" said the second.
"I know" The president replied, and the last two screens flickered off.
"God do I know" he sighed, and returned to the papers at his desk.
Barely a week later, and he was faced with another crisis. Navarro had been attacked by men in powered armor.
"Do we know who the aggressors were?"
"No sir. They wore unmarked t-51b armor. They are likely part of the group who seceded shortly before the war".
He had known they would become a problem eventually, but he hadn't expected such a swift attack.
"What are the damages?" He hoped nothing of value had been lost.
"They only managed to burn a few buildings down. Their path suggested that they were heading to the armory, but they were stopped by a squad that were returning their equipment for the night"
"Who led this squad?"
"A... Sergeant Jensen sir. He was heavily wounded though. He is in surgery right now."
Sergeant Jensen. If the president didn't know better, he'd think the man was trying to die. Maybe he didn't know better.
Jensen was the most heavily wounded soldier still alive after the war, and as such needed major reconstructive surgery. He was missing a leg and an arm, as well as most of his innards. If the president hadn't ordered them, the doctors likely would've killed him. But as it was, they were to rebuild him. Even if it was the single most costly project in their short history.
Jensen awoke a month after, but we'll deal with that when we get there.
A strange mutation seemed to have overtaken both the pilot and the Caesar, changing them from men into monsters. The pilot had lost all of his hair, and his flesh only sporadically regrew. His vocal cords were nearly useless, and his nose was nonexistent. The Caesar was much worse off. He had taken on a hunched posture, his teeth fell out, and any trace of intellect was gone from him.
"What should we do with them sir?" A doctor asked the president.
"You say the pilot still retains his faculties? He is still sane?"
"He is worried about his future with "Those soldier-girls in the barracks" but other than that seems fine."
"He isn't a hazard to those around him? No radiation damage could happen? Is he contagious?"
"No, no, and no, sir. The prisoner on the other hand..." A curtain was drawn, and the once leader of a legion smashed his malformed body into the window separating him from those inside the medical lab.
"Jesus!" The president yelled and jumped back a few feet.
"He is contained, but he is nowhere near as stable as the pilot."
"I can see that. Do you need him for any research?"
"No sir, the pilot is a much better source."
"Kill him then. No-one deserves that."
"Yes sir"
"The pilot is to return to active duty. He will be the first pilot stationed at Navarro." The president was thinking. If their pilot could retain his senses, why not others? Having him in Navarro would sow the seeds of acceptance amongst the population there, as well as allowing any sentient victims the knowledge hat they would not be alone. He needed to call a meeting with his generals to discuss the situation.
Ten minutes later, and an assembly had been made.
"We have a new group to discuss" The president stated. The generals looked as though they had better things to do. Cataloging traitors was something for interns and lieutenants, not them.
"This is a "Necrotic post-human" He motioned for the slide to show a picture of the pilot.
The generals gasped upon seeing the picture. It was unlike anything they had ever seen.
"What in the blue hell is that?" A general asked.
"This is the pilot who flew into the initial radiation storm clouds. He has mutated into what you see now."
"So this could happen to any of us?"
"Only if you walk through a live nuclear reactor. We do expect to find more in the wastes though." He motioned for the slide to move again, revealing the feral Caesar.
"This is a "Necrotic post-human" as well, except his mind is gone. We expect more of these than any other."
He motioned once again, and the video from squad sigma's cameras began playing. The generals watched in horror as they moaned and began to attack the squad. Between the ruthlessness of the combat and the ghouls unearthly moans, several generals had to excuse themselves.
Once they had re-entered the room, the president continued.
"Our official policy is that the sentient ones are merely crippled and are treated under the same care as ourselves, while the insane ones are to be killed on sight. Death is the greatest mercy we can offer them."
Side note- Jensen's wife died in this attack. -The Captain.