Chapter 86: Parley
There is a Legion custom, uniquely designed not long after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, that every commander abides by. In the wake of their defeat along the Colorado, and with the dozens of petty rebellions and skirmishes between rival officers, a new ritual was instituted by Caesar Lanius and his officers. Between opposing sides, a gap of three miles would be maintained. In the center, men from one of the sides would march out and plant a white banner into the ground. After that, leaders from each side would go out and discuss terms or volley insults or, very rarely, lay out terms of surrender or peace. All this went through Falco's mind as he watched the two riders from the east plant their banner into the dirt before galloping back to the thousands strong legion amassing before them.
Snapping his reins, he trotted back to the center of their own camp as Barabbas and his other riders picked up their passengers.
"Kim, Commissioner, you're in command while I'm gone," Major Wallace ordered his adjutants as Drago helped him onto the back of his mount. "At minimum, they outnumber us 4-to-1, so try to dissuade them from making any maneuvers."
"Some of my men report that two of their cohorts are already aiming to flank us on the north and south," Natalie relayed.
"Well then, at least Rathmore will have something to chew on," Wallace scoffed as Dan cantered around the Governor. "You sure you want to do this, sir? Scorpio ain't exactly known for being agreeable," the Texan rider tried to warn.
"Dan, I'm used to dealing with disagreeable folk on a regular basis. I wind up getting drunk with half of them and nearly marrying the other," Lars winked.
"It's true, I watched him do it," Rosa concurred. "All that being said, though, I talked to Kyra and Falco about this guy and I don't think you'll be drinking it up with him. Maybe you ought to sit this one out?"
"Rosa, honeybunch, I had no idea you cared," Lars put a hand over his heart, in a sincere yet patronizing way.
"Nah, he just doesn't sound like the type to pass up a chance to take you out. I should go down there in your place," Rosa offered.
"Ah, there it is," Lars nodded, knowingly. "You just want to prove to the world that you are a Master of Diplomacy as much as your old man is, huh? Well, we planned for this. Kim?"
Rosa felt two large pythons snake under her armpits and restrain her as she kicked and struggled against the bigger woman. "One, Falco is adamant that when dealing with this Scorpio guy, absolutely no women. Same reason Natalie, Kim, and Bea are also staying home. It's not fair, I know, tough. Two, I care for you too much to expose you to any really big risk. Scorpio and the guys he's hanging with are not to be trifled with. And three, sorry, I've seen your attempts at diplomacy," he finished as Barabbas paced by, shooting her a withering glare.
"Aww, feeling lonely?" Rosa taunted as she turned her attention to Caesar. "Or just resentful your favorite squeeze isn't giving you the time of day?"
Barabbas sneered as he snapped his reins as trotted off, ignoring her. "Oh, or maybe you're just upset you won't be pounding my sweet ass for the rest of the journey!" Rosa continued to heckle.
"And that is why you are not a diplomat," Kim winced as she kept dragging Rosa away.
"What? He doesn't like me and I don't like him. We understand each other just great," Rosa peppily replied as Lars ran his hand over his face.
"And that's why I'm glad I don't have no young'uns, myself," Dan chuckled as he held out his hand for the Governor. "If you keep being that eager to throw yourself into the fire, your life is gonna get cut short real quick," Lars told his daughter before parting.
As Falco approached Larain, he noted the younger man's nervousness. "…I would advise that you find a way to conduct yourself in a manner befitting that of the people you wish to lead," Falco suggested. "Provided you wish to request my advice."
"Hm," Larain looked up. "Oh, sorry. I don't think you'd want that. Most of my folk would just draw a gun on the bastards and deal with the consequences later. I just can take a few seconds to know that ain't exactly a viable strategy."
Falco chuckled. "At least your people chose their leader wisely."
"Then you're as big a fool as them," Larain muttered under his breath. Falco pretended not to hear it.
"…I know it may be the last thing you wish to hear, but your father…" Falco began.
"Doesn't mean a damn thing to me!" Larain snapped before calming himself.
"…Is the reason I still draw breath," Falco finished. "I know you despise your father, and you've every right to do so. You would be far from alone. But… he was a more complicated man than I imagine you could anticipate. He's one of the few individuals I know who learned how to temper the Bull's cruelty, to refine its brutality into something more productive than an outlet for Caesar's malice. It is thanks to his influence that today we have a "good" Legion," he stated as he looked to the Amazon camp.
One of the Liberty Clanners had offended a good number of the Amazons shortly after their arrival. They had responded by drugging the Clanner and restraining him as to "make and example out of him." Having placed a pair of gelding tongs over a fire, the Clanner Matty could only protest his innocence as he pleaded for his fellow "brahs" to intervene on his behalf, in which the response was met with either half-hearted requests for clemency or a barely concealed hope that such a procedure would adjust his attitude for the better. As was typical in resolving issues within the Legion, Kyra was requested to mediate and resolve the matter, to which she responded that she would do so after she finished brushing her hair, followed by Pariah's, and afterwards anyone who felt particularly matted, regardless of balding or ghoul status.
"…So, it'll be three legionnaires with a Californian and Nevadan talking to some other legionnaires and whoever they scrounged up from the gutter?" Larain asked.
"I've skirmished with the Midwest Confederacy quite a few times. Once you get over the fancy gear, you realize they never have quite enough," Falco scoffed. "As bad as the initial raid was, California acquitted itself rather well. They won't be so arrogant as to attack us the same way," Falco gently encouraged the clanner. "And besides, the Legion should offer you no surprises."
"…Maybe we should send out a little surprise of our own?" Larain whispered.
"What do you mean?" Falco asked.
"…Well, if this Scorpio guy thinks he has the upper hand, maybe he should learn the hard way that the Liberty Clans aren't afraid to fight dirty. Maybe if we had one guy with a gun…"
"There's a thin line between pragmatic and dishonorable," Falco interrupted.
"And why does that matter?" Larain derided the older warrior.
"Because we must abide by the rules we wish to live by. Those who shirk their honor invite disaster for the future. No, Scorpio won't risk himself so recklessly. Even he would play by the rules."
The four riders strode out from the camp, the three with their passengers while Barabbas rode in front. Carla stood beside her brother as she watched Larain ride out. Kim immediately began issuing commands to the nearby staff to keep up their defenses while Commissioner Boone ordered her best sharpshooters to keep their eyes on the meeting place. Dalton was sitting just outside the camp, his hand in a bag of potato crisps as he counted and recounted the number of the enemies before him, running calculations in his head. Dinero finally intervened on Matty's behalf, complaining that all his screaming and crying was giving Marcy a headache and making her sick. Marcy stood beside Rosa as they watched some of the men they loved the most go towards the most dangerous men in the wasteland.
Upon reaching a few hundred yards before the midway point, Barabbas, Falco, Lars, Larain, and Major Wallace all dismounted and approached the rest of the way on foot, with Drago and Dan remaining behind with the other two mounts. As they approached, they saw their counterparts leaving the opposite camp. Up ahead, flanked by two other riders, was the dog-driven chariot piloted by Scorpio himself, a blonde woman riding with him holding up the banner containing his personalized sigil. Above them, hovering just overhead, was another of the attack craft that the AEG had just become acquainted with earlier that day. And just behind, a sight that made Larain's blood run cold while Barabbas's boiled, a jet black deathclaw ridden by a priest.
As the entourage came to a halt, the attack craft landed, and two individuals departed. One was a rather unremarkable looking man, while the other appeared to be a multi-limbed and emaciated super mutant. Together, they joined up with Scorpio as he disembarked his chariot while the deathclaw knelt down and dropped his passenger from its back. Lined up, the four of them approached the midway point while Falco turned to Barabbas.
"…Perhaps it would be best to have me do the speaking? At least initially," Falco offered. Barabbas just stared ahead, his expression unchanged. "…Glad we agree," Falco nodded.
The groups finally converged at the white banner. Wallace and Lars fanned out while Larain found himself flanking Barabbas directly with Falco. Jefferson and Nemesio stood at the ends while Scorpio and Vulpes took the center. Striding forward, Falco and Scorpio eventually stood before one another.
"…Greetings, Uncle," Scorpio smiled.
"You insolent, wretched little pissant!" Falco hissed, his previous calm demeanor gone.
"Happy to see you alive and well too, Uncle," Scorpio added. "…So, Barabbas, these are the mercenaries you have hired to usurp your father's misbegotten throne? Oh, how insensitive of me. My sincerest condolences. Your mother's army of bitches wrought a calamitous mutiny against your father that I only barely managed to subdue. No doubt those who flocked to you told you a different story. No doubt wishing to escape proper justice."
"Who are you to speak of justice?" Falco snarled.
"Merely someone who wishes only the best for Dallas and the Legion. For it to no longer be strained and led by half-dull old fogeys and mutants," Scorpio replied.
Barabbas could only feel static as he reached out and tried to find Scorpio's mind, such as it was. All four of these individuals messing with his gift. The priest had previously shown no small amount of resistance when they had previously met, and the machine-creature was nearly impossible to get a read on either. And then there was the complete lack of presence displayed by the man standing beside Scorpio. He looked to the stranger and glared.
"…Vulpes?" Lars called out, incredulous. "Is that you?"
"…And you are?" Vulpes asked.
Now Lars had to blink a few times as his confusion grew. "…You don't remember me? Me? You don't have my face on a dartboard somewhere? Seriously?" he continued to ask as Wallace and Larain looked to one another with a mixture of exasperation and nervousness.
"And who is this, might I ask?" Scorpio indeed did ask. "The representative of those petty wastrel tribes who infest our rightful territory?"
"I guess," Lars shrugged. "I'm the Governor of Vegas. I imagine you've heard of me."
"…I have," Scorpio replied as he took a step back. "Please, allow me to demonstrate what an honor it is to finally make your acquaintance," he said as he took a steep bow. As his face loomed over the dirt, Scorpio let loose a trail of spittle that drooled onto the dust before him, rising back up as if nothing was amiss.
Lars chuckled. "…I like your style," he grinned. "Neither Lanius nor the First Caesar had been as much fun to talk to. You, though, from what I hear Barabbas and Falco speak of you, might actually be fun to party with. What do you say you leave the LARPers behind and come indulge yourself to your hearts content back in Vegas?" he asked as he hitched his thumb behind him.
Scorpio chuckled. "…Tempting, Governor, but no dice, I believe you people say. I'd prefer to see you hung by your entrails and your corpse paraded down the thoroughfare between Fort Wrath and Dallas."
Lars whistled. "The last few Legion folk I met constantly threatened to crucify me, over and over and over again. Switching up a classic, though, you're a bold one."
Vulpes watched on with his typical detached bemusement. Suddenly, however, a horrifying realization kicked in. Maintaining his expression, he looked over to Scorpio. "…Consul, a word?"
Scorpio motioned to Jefferson and Nemesio to take their place while the two of them stepped away from the meeting. "This had better be important," Scorpio hissed. "The slightest show of weakness…"
"He's not supposed to be here," Vulpes hissed back.
"…What?"
"The Governor wasn't supposed to be part of the expedition. He was supposed to be back in Vegas while his daughter met with Lanius. He's not supposed to be anywhere near here and yet…" Vulpes looked to Scorpio. "…Something happened to my allies."
Scorpio looked on before a manic smile crept onto his face. "…Just as well, my friend. Once we finish with these pleasantries, I shall purchase Vegas with blood. Show your people what real conquest looks like."
Vulpes bristled at the statement but maintained his composure. "Of course, my brother," Vulpes smiled in kind. He glanced down to see Scorpio with his hand on the knife by his belt. Glancing back up at him, Scorpio slowly released his grasp on his weapon, and Vulpes did the same in kind. The two returned to the meeting, a unified front once more.
Larain kept trying to steal glances at the deathclaw sitting a few hundred yards before him, trying to glance past the cyborg mutant. He can't possibly recognize me from here, it's been so long and I'm too far away. He has half of his damned face burned off so there's no way he could even recognize me even if we was this close… and so on and so on did Larain's internal monologue continue. Meanwhile, Sawney was salivating as the familiar scent returned to his nostril.
As Scorpio and Vulpes returned, Major Wallace took the lead in the negotiations. "I've noticed at least two of your cohorts have been maneuvering around our flanks while we're both officially at a ceasefire. Rather poor form for one seeking a diplomatic solution, wouldn't it be?"
"And I think it's also rather poor form to have a corpse speak," Scorpio sneered. "California must be scraping the bottom of the barrel if they're sending out shambling zombies to state their terms of surrender," he continued to taunt.
"…You presume much," Wallace pursed his thinning lips together.
"Bravado is ill-fitting for you, commander," Scorpio chuckled.
"The least of our "shambling corpses" is worth ten of the best you have to offer. And there's one ghoul back there worth fifty of all four of you put together," Wallace spat. Lars came and put a hand on the major's shoulder as he took him back to calm him down.
"And who is the wastrel?" Scorpio finally pushed his attention to the Sovereign. Larain fought back a gulp as he finally introduced himself. "I come here to represent the Liberty Clans."
Vulpes snickered. "Throwing your hats in with California after everything? You must be desperate."
"You were the one who encouraged us to fight against California, then abandoned everything when things got too hot for you!" Larain snarled.
"Big talk from someone who never even took up arms against the invaders in the first place. Your face isn't familiar to me at all," Vulpes assessed.
"It is to me," Nemesio finally spoke up. "I recognize this one from when we first attacked the AEG directly. He fought for the Californians, I remember."
"A traitor? Leading his people? And you think you have a foot to stand on to criticize me?" Vulpes heckled.
Larain fumed as he looked over the four people who stood to destroy everything his people had ever accomplished or dreamed to in the future. Slowly, he rediscovered his voice. "…I remember you…" he finally said, pointing at Nemesio. "Rosa damn near beat you to a pulp and I shot you full of holes. And you…" he pointed to Vulpes. "Aren't so brave when you have to fight people who shoot back. You're a terror against the wounded and unarmed, but when it's your neck on the line, the only part of the Fox anyone sees is his ass."
Scorpio let out a laugh while Vulpes glowered at him. "And I don't see what's so special about you, either," Larain looked to the Consul. "All you do is brutalize those weaker than you and send others to die in your stead when they're actually a threat. And scolding California about mutants? Look around you, you brought a super mutant and a fucked up ghoul to help represent you, Hero of the Legion," he finished, sarcastically.
The smile slowly vanished off of Scorpio's face. "…So, you must be this Sovereign I've heard so much about?"
"I am," Larain replied, proud and stoic.
"…Tell me, is Nevada pussy as sweet as I imagine it is?" Scorpio asked.
"All right, that's enough!" Lars immediately ended the conversation. "Just tell us what you came for and we can get on with this!"
"…Fair enough," Scorpio smiled. "Myself, along with my associates Tek-Baron Jefferson, Obispo Nemesio del Juarez, and… Vulpes Inculta, have come to an agreement. We are willing to allow your AEG to return to the West unmolested, provided you agree to our terms."
"And your terms would be?" Falco asked, already anticipating what was to come.
"The rebel Amazons will be surrendered to us and given a swift but just trial," Scorpio began. "In addition, my men, for their valorous services, are to be given holding within the rightful Legion territory that is the Sonoran Desert. That means Flagstaff, Two Sun, Denver, Circle Junction, and Phoenix will all return to their historical and rightful owners."
Lars never really gave two wits about the massive territory Lanius gave to him. The people who lived on that land and what they did on it had their own business to mind. Surrendering it all back to the Legion, however, went against everything he believed in. He looked over to Larain and saw his face darken in anger as Scorpio continued.
"In addition, as a show of good faith, I would like to exchange some hostages in return for securing your safe passage back west. Starting with that one," he pointed to Larain. "Considering the Legion never forgets its own. Next would be my gift to you, Barabbas, assuming she's still alive. Myra is too delectable a fruit to have dragged all over the wasteland, she deserves a warm hearth and as comfortable an existence as can be offered," he said as he looked at Barabbas. "…Nah, I think I'll just lock her in the stocks for the rest of her life to be used as my men see fit!"
"Next, Governor, I hear you have a daughter waiting for you back in camp? It would be a shame if she came all this way and one of royal blood never managed to put a baby in her. Just because you're pretty much the Legion's version of the Devil does not mean your daughter has to suffer under the title, Hostis Publicus. But, judging from the expression on your face, it would seem you'd prefer surrendering yourself and going on that parade I mentioned earlier?"
"By the way, have you found your dear sweet sister? If so, I would humbly request that you surrender her to us, along with yourself. As of late, there's been a bit of a "zero-tolerance" policy for mutants in Dallas," Scorpio continued as Nemesio and Jefferson looked at one another. "You two will be given the accommodations you deserve. Hell, why not make it a good old family reunion! I'll even introduce you two and your mother to your dear father!" Scorpio continued to taunt.
"I'm afraid you may have been beaten to that punch," Vulpes interjected.
"…I'm sorry, what?" Scorpio asked in barely concealed irritation as Barabbas continued to hold back his rage.
"The Oracle? I'm afraid she departed not too long ago," Vulpes explained as he looked to Barabbas. "…You have only my sincerest condolences," he said as he took his thumb and slid it across his throat.
There was a silence between the groups. As the agonizing seconds dragged on, a low rumble began to emerge from the quiet. Major Wallace and Governor Perez both turned to see Barabbas shaking, and Falco looked away in dread. As Larain finally steeled himself to look over, Barabbas finally betrayed his laughter.
"A-HA-HA-HA-HA-HA!" Barabbas crowed as he fought to keep himself upright. "HERE'S MY TERMS! THE SCRAPYARD MENDICANT CAN GO BACK TO WHATEVER HELLHOLE IT CRAWLED OUT OF AND RUST WITH THE REST OF THE GARBAGE HE BROUGHT ALONG WITH HIM! YOU!" he pointed to Nemesio, "CAN CONSUMATE WITH THAT ANIMAL YOU RODE IN ON UNTIL IT HAD ITS FILL OF YOU AND SHITS YOU OUT IN THE MOST FORSAKEN PIECE OF EARTH IT CAN FIND BEFORE I SKIN IT INTO A NEW SADDLE AND BOOTS! AND YOU!" he pointed at Scorpio. "STOP PRETENDING YOU CARE ABOUT "WOMEN THIS" AND "PUSSY THAT!" NOBODY IS CONVINCED! I KNOW YOU'VE WANTED TO FUCK ME SINCE THE TOURNAMENT! SO QUIT WITH THE OLD "LEGION-APPROVED" MACHO SHIT AND JUST ADMIT YOU'RE THE SAD, TWISTED LITTLE URANIAN YOU ARE!"
"I- I- I have no idea what you're talking about?!" Scorpio lied.
"YOU WANT DALLAS?! YOU WANT THE THRONE?! FINE! FUCKING TAKE IT! JUST FIGHT ME FOR IT, YOU AND ME! NO TOURNAMENT, TO THE DEATH! ALL THIS TIME YOU'VE BEEN AVOIDING ME SINCE YOU KNEW I'D USE MY GIFT TO END YOU FOR GOOD, AND NOW THAT YOU HAVE THAT CROWN AND I CAN'T SENSE YOU, YOU CAN FINALLY GET THAT FAIR FIGHT YOU WANTED SINCE FOREVER! SO, HAVE AT IT! FIGHT ME!"
Scorpio looked over to Vulpes. Vulpes avoided his gaze. Don't drag me into this, boy. I'm going to take out the loser as soon as possible.
"…And you…" Barabbas growled at Vulpes. "…you'll die screaming."
Frost sat before the camp as he trained his camera to the proceedings. His request to go down and film the meeting had been denied by Commissioner Boone, much to his lack of surprise. Miffed, he decided to record what he could from here, kicking himself for not convincing Falco to take a microphone with him and just transcribe what he would hear.
Absently, he pulled out his notepad and began drawing up the storyboard for his documentary, once he compiled his footage and pieced together something entertaining. Dalton stood behind the little dweeb as he scribbled more scratches and kept looking through that damnable camera. He snorted as he lifted up his binoculars once again and kept watch over the proceedings from this distance.
"I'm sure he's doing fine," a voice came up beside him, interrupting his focus. Dalton pulled his binoculars away as he glared down at Rosa, who squatted down beside him as she fished her fingers into a bag of pinyon nuts that she shared with Marcy/Pariah.
"…What do I care about what happens to that ingrate?" Dalton muttered as he went back to his business.
"You care, Dalton. Don't even pretend you're fooling anyone," Rosa heckled.
"…And what about you, my dear princess? Worried about dear old dad down there?" Dalton sneered.
"…Well, it's not like he's as fast as he used to be," Rosa replied to herself. Dalton scoffed. "That sentiment is going to kill you."
"At least it'll be a life worth living," Rosa grinned as Marcy/Pariah giggled. Dalton rolled his eyes as he went back to his surveillance. The big bastard was giving the pretty-boy legionary the business while the rest of "Caesar's" entourage began backing away from the ever-growing conniption of the Big Brass Bull. The two mutants standing with Scorpion or whatever his name was both looked as though they had been caught off guard by the sudden outburst, and the last one, the one who was pretty much a dead ringer for old Inculta himself was just looking to the right every now and then and…
His vision followed the gaze towards a rock pile a few hundred yards to the north of the meeting's position. Right in the middle of it, right faintest hint of the nozzle emitting from the shadows, an unmistakable glint of light flashed for the briefest of seconds.
"ABEL!" Dalton shrieked. Rosa stood in confusion for a moment before following his line of sight and realizing what he had found. She booked it immediately, running directly to Kim, pointing towards the general direction of the rock pile. Without hesitation, she barked an order into her radio to Rathmore, who ordered his teams to lock in their coordinates immediately and pump three rounds into the debris. Seconds later, the mortars popped off, and the rock pile was blown to shreds, along with the end of a broom handle, the piece of mirror attached to the top of it, and the stuffed sleeping bag that held everything together. Lars, Larain, Falco, Wallace, Nemesio, and Jefferson were all distracted by the sudden explosive incident to their north. Barabbas and Scorpio, however, remained locked with one another, staring hatefully across at the one person who stood in the way of their dreams and ambitions. Vulpes, however, was smiling. So was Cade.
Pariah, her Gift sensing something suspicious, looked out into the vast emptiness before her and could see and sense nothing. Casting her gaze away from the decoy, she guided her eyes to the south and suddenly felt a presence. As she looked, she could see a brick wall manifest before her. Pariah shuddered as she realized whoever built this mental wall knew exactly how to handle those with the gift, preventing their own minds from being overpowered. An experienced psyker killer had her brother in his sights. "…Oh no…" she whimpered.
Hundreds of yards to the south, the burlap cloak resting beneath the sands rose up ever so slightly, enough for the nozzle of the real rifle to inch out and take its aim. Barabbas felt something sharp pelt him in his abdomen, followed by a steady and rising pain as blood seeped from his mouth and wound. Clutching his gut, he brought up his hand to his face as Scorpio pulled out his halberd and swung. Still in shock, Barabbas felt the presence sweep past him as his second in command intercepted the blade with his own weapon. With his anger returning, Barabbas tried to lung at Scorpio, only to be intercepted by a sharp jab into his open wound, Inculta darting away as Barabbas's knees began to buckle and the sick began to reach his throat.
"KILL THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Natalie shrieked as First Recon sharpshooters, Judicial Marshals, Liberty Clanners, and mortar teams all unloaded in the direction of the rogue shooter. Cade ditched his camouflage as he ran back towards the 4th Legion's main camp, the rounds kicking up dirt around him as he could scarcely hear the whistling of the mortar shells. The cacophony of noise, the smell of the sand and sulfur, and a vision with a clarity he rarely ever got to enjoy, he felt alive. An attack craft Vulpes had negotiated with Jefferson earlier that morning had arrived to cover him, flying low as to kick up enough dirt to re-conceal him as it seemed to the world at large that Cade had once again vanished into the wasteland he belonged to. Marcy, however, was silently screaming to Belua to save her brother.
Lars, Larain, and Major Wallace were all unloading their rounds into Jefferson and Nemesio to no noticeable effect. Jefferson was for all intents and purposes bullet-proof to anything the opposing negotiators could have brought with them, and Nemesio was infamous for his ability to shrug off wounds that would cripple anyone lacking in faith. Falco, however, was swinging at Scorpio and Vulpes, driving them back as Barabbas got back to his feet. The familiar sound of a panting beast returned to him as he saw Belua had arrived.
"GET BARABBAS OUT OF HERE!" Falco screamed as Dan and Drago arrived with their mounts, with Falco's hound immediately diving into the melee to save his master. Lars felt a hand reach down and pull him back onto the hound he rode in on. "DRAGO, GET BARABBAS BACK ON HIS MOUNT! I'LL HELP GET THE REST OF THEM OUT!"
Drago dismounted his beast as he ordered Larain and Major Wallace to climb on and ride back while he helped Barabbas. Drago's mount was particularly well-trained and accustomed to unfamiliar riders, allowing the two to scale the animal and ride off with Dan and Lars with little incident. Barabbas, however, tried to struggle against his third in command as he was wrestled onto the back of Belua, with Drago mounting on the front as he looked back at Falco. The jet-black deathclaw had rushed in and engaged with Falco's hound, swiping at the beast as he snapped and seemed to gibber some kind of threat. "FALCO-" Drago began to speak.
"SAVE CAESAR!" was all Falco could get out as Vulpes Inculta darted beside him and took a knife to the back of Falco's knee. Drago watched in horror and almost hesitated before turning away and snapping the reins of Belua, charging away as the bitter tears threatened to blind him.
Sawney had grabbed ahold of the throat of Falco's mount, ripping it out as the animal could only let out a strangled whimper before collapsing and dying onto the ground. Falco's sword arm was pierced through the muscle as he dropped his sword in agony as Scorpio kicked his effective uncle off from his weapon. As the old centurion fell onto the ground, clutching his arm as he balled up to prevent any more blood loss, Scorpio took the peace banner he had planted in the middle of the desert to call this parley out from its resting place. "…Hey, Uncle."
"Do you expect me to beg, boy?" Falco snarled as he clutched his wound.
"No, I just remembered something. I visited Aunt Sabine before I came here, not long after you and the other riders left. We had a good chat and a nice dinner, courtesy of your servant girl Tashe. Quite a catch for a girl my aunt purchased for you as a broodmare. Speaking of, I'm guessing the two of you shared quite a night of passion before you left, Uncle?"
Falco stared at the Consul as the realization finally hit him. "A gift my aunt could never give you, is that right? And only in your fifth decade," Scorpio smiled as he reached his hand down to his uncle. "…Join me, Uncle, and you can return and raise your child as the father you should have been so long ago. Don't… throw your life away at the behest of a bunch of mutants and Californian dissolutes. Please, uncle, for me?"
Falco reached for his sword handle, not taking his eyes off the man he once called his nephew. "…Mercy and clemency? From you?"
"I would rather not leave my little future nephew without a father. And having you on my side should quell any further objections against me from that doddering oaf Aleron and his like. We both win, uncle, we need only reach out and take it."
"…Indeed," Falco replied as he grasped his sword with his uninjured arm and swung. Scorpio, however, was younger and faster, parrying the strike with the end of the banner before sinking it into its new home. As Falco spat up blood, he looked up at the symbol of false peace that skewered him, and at the nephew he now wished had either died in the womb or truly was killed by the radscorpion to which he owed his namesake. "…Guess I'll have to raise your child as well as rule Dallas. And all this after I kill the mutants and California. Will my work ever be done?" Scorpio mused aloud as he turned away to return to his chariot, his allies following in suit as Sawney gorged himself on one last mouthful of hound innards before joining in.
Falco thought of his training maniple, of Montano who named him, of Aleron who further trained and taught him, of Sabine who loved him, and Tashe who bestowed upon him a gift he would never see. He thought of Barabbas and hoped he could succeed where his father and the First Caesar failed. Barabbas, Drago, Quintas, Sulla, Uriah, Damocles, Hypatia, and Animalus Dan. They were his children, as well. Looking up at the noontime sun, Falco gathered up all the peace he could muster and passed away on the lonely desert ground.
The screams that erupted from the medical tent seemed to echo all throughout the camp. The medical staff all darted around and tried fruitlessly to restrain Barabbas, even enlisting help from his fellow riders. It got to the point where Drago, Damocles, Uriah and Kim all had to restrain his arms and gag him while doctors fished out the bullet in his side and dress the wounds as best they were able. Spitting out the gag, Barabbas screamed to anyone who could listen. "WHERE'S FALCO?!"
None of his riders could look him in the eye. Kyra then entered the tent, rushing to his side and gently tried to coo in his ear. "You're hurt and need to rest. They told me you lost a lot of blood and you don't…"
Barabbas got his arm free and shoved her away. "WHERE'S FALCO?! ANSWER ME, DAMN YOU!" he shrieked at Dan as he stood by the entryway of the medical tent. Dan could only tip his hat over his eyes and look away, lest his tears betray everything. As Lars began relaying what had transpired to the rest of the AEG leadership, scouts began to return and state that the surrounding cohorts were beginning to move on their position. Larain immediately had to assure the Liberty Clan that they were in no position to flee, while Bea rallied her troops to prepare to defend their final positions to the death. As all this chaos washed over her, Pariah steeled herself and began to soothe and put her brother's mind at ease.
Soon enough, Barabbas began to cease his thrashing. As he began to relax against his aggressive nature and instincts, he began to process what had just happened. Since he had set out on his journey, he had lost his father, lost his mother, and had now just lost Falco. Unable to restrain himself further, Barabbas openly began to weep.
As Cade watched the entourage return to the camp, the Legion troops began to cheer the return of their master and allies. Dismounting from his chariot, Scorpio immediately looked around for the hero of the hour.
"Assassin!" he called out, and Cade reluctantly obliged him by approaching. A smile creeping on his face, Scorpio then proceeded to grab Cade in a headlock and playfully dig his knuckles into his scalp; an act Cade barely forced himself to tolerate. "A phenomenal performance worthy of Inculta's finest work, Assassin. Feel free to help yourself to any woman in the camp you desire," he offered as Cheslie climbed off the chariot as well, not looking either of them in the eyes.
"Oh, goodie," Cade deadpanned, wondering what he was supposed to do with a woman in the first place. "Is he dead?"
Scorpio released the sniper. "Barabbas? I can't say for certain, but I'm confident his days are numbered. We'll have his allies put to the sword by the morrow, at any rate."
"Do what you will with the rest of them. I get his head, no matter what," Cade insisted.
"You'll get what I allow you to keep, mercenary," Scorpio's voice began to harden. "It was my bounty anyway, I will pay you in full once Barabbas's head is on a pike."
"And should he live?" Cade asked.
"You will be paid regardless, mercenary," Scorpio blew off the sniper's concerns. "Just be grateful and celebrate as you see fit. In the meantime, direct any questions you have to Tyrus," he said as he began the trek to return to his private quarters. As much of a triumph as today had been, some notion about what had transpired soured what should have been his greatest victory since the death of Lanius. As he thought about it, he began to figure that it was likely due to only now just finding out that the Oracle had been killed by Vulpes without his knowledge. Inculta saw fit to keep that information a secret from him, and Scorpio would have to figure out a way to deal with such behavior before it became an issue for later. Yes, that had to be it, he thought as he pushed aside other nascent and lingering useless thoughts. That made the most sense.
Inculta thought back on watching Scorpio dispatch the man who seemingly and effectively raised him. He terminated the old centurion little hesitation. It was admirable, exemplary, worthy of praise from the likes such as him… and potentially very dangerous for his future. As Inculta mulled over how to mitigate any future Scorpio issues, Nemesio and Sawney glanced at the steel marauders as Jefferson resumed control over his forces. Even from behind their helmets, Nemesio and the Revelacion could sense the feeling these canned warriors had for them.
"…Ah dun fink dhey finkin weez freenz," Sawney uttered aloud from his bloodstained maw, quiet enough for only Nemesio to hear him.
Nemesio stroked Sawney's snout. "Have faith, my Revelacion. All will happen as it will in due time."