A/N
And here it is, dear readers, the chapter I've been building up to for the past 10 chapters.
But before you go ahead and scroll down, I'd like to make a request. I'm planning on making another fic, one that's connected to the same Fallout: The Dominion world. It'll be named later on as Fallout: The Europan Campaign. ( Yes, Europan, not European. ) And I will need some help building up post-apocalyptic Europe ( history-buffs and native Europeans are welcome ) the potential factions involved, changes in culture, mutations ( animals, ghouls, or mutants in general ) etc.
Rough outline at the moment; story would involve a post-apocalyptic New British Empire ( upon which most of the story would revolve around ), a certain German Federation and some Russian scav/raider hordes ( ala-Metro style )
If you're interested, I'm just a PM away.
Okay, with that done, don't let this little A/N keep you. Please enjoy the update and lemme know what you think in the reviews :)
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"War. War never changes." - The Chronicler
..::..
Larsson donned his Head Paladin ceremonial robes, took one last look at his reflection in the mirror, then left his room.
The year was just two days from ending. So much had been done in the following months that it felt like the Brotherhood made a huge leap in time, nothing was ever going to be the same again.
The Elders were waiting for him in the summoning chamber, and he didn't want to be late for his own swearing-in ceremony. The robes he wore were uncomfortable, loose and lacked the certainty that his power-armor possessed. It had been the first in ten years since he attained his position as Head Paladin suiting up in that attire, and Larsson made a note of making it the last once the ceremony was over.
He passed by a few dozen lancer-ensigns making their way over to the Landfall main hangar. They stood at attention and saluted the Head Paladin before continuing on their way, to which Larsson responded with a quick salute of his own.
The summoning chamber, a beautifully decorated room reserved for purely ceremonial reasons, such as knighting initiates or swearing-in new officers like paladins or scribes, was already filled with the base personnel who were present at Landfall. Lancers, knights, scribes and paladins stood at attention in a wide circle. A small ivory dais, upon which the revered Brotherhood Codex rested, stood in the middle of a platform. Five monitors, from which the grainy live feeds transmitted from the Elder Council at Lost Hills, were set up in a half circle around the platform.
Larsson, upon entering the chamber, pulled up his hood over his head and walked slowly towards the dais.
High Elder Maxson's stoic visage betrayed his signature penetrating stare, the kind that felt like a razor-blade peeling back the skin from the flesh of whoever he was looking at. All the other Elders shared his look, but Maxson's was on a whole other level, and rightly so. For the selection of the Texan Chapter's new leader, every bit of scrutiny was necessary.
Larsson stood before the dais, hand on the Codex as he prepared to recite the Elder's vow.
It went along the lines similar to when he was sworn-in as Head Paladin, although in this particular case his words held a lot more weight. "I, Robert Larsson, take up this mantle as Elder of the Texas Chapter and make this vow to you. Upon this sacred book, I vow to uphold the core tenets and guiding axioms of the Order of Steel, to serve as shepherd and protector of these faithful souls who serve the Brotherhood with me, to so zealously guard the remnants of humanity from the dangers of technology and to bring them along the proper path towards enlightenment."
Head Scribe Harper approached the platform, presenting an engraved golden medallion, which bore the three-diamonded symbol of the Elder. Larsson rose up to receive the medallion, threw back his hood and donned the chain.
"As my first act as Elder of this Chapter..." Elder Larsson declared, "... I make this official announcement on the matter concerning The Dominion. Brothers and sisters, we are now at war."
He let the words sink in. Incident 133 wasn't the first strike they made against their enemies in the North. Over the past few months, their strike teams exploited the Dominion frontier and sabotaged key positions, cutting off communication and vital supply lines.
All of it in preparation for the big one- Operation Upheaval.
"Lancers, assemble at the main hangar and prepare for liftoff. Knights, gear up and prepare for assignments. Scribes, to your stations. The time for us to strike is now."
The Brotherhood loyalists who bore witness to his ascension uttered the rallying words to salute their new Elder, "Ad Victoriam!"
"Ad Victoriam." Larsson said in reply, ending the ceremony and dismissing the gathered soldiers so he could direct the first phase of their assault.
The great bay doors of the main hangar were rolled open. Through them, the light of the Texan desert sun poured its rays to reveal the apex of Brotherhood military technology. Seven 40,000 ton rigid-framed airships, each powered by fusion cores stolen from Dominion convoys, were towed away from the hangar to take flight for the first time. Owing to pilfered technologies from decades of salvaging and restorations, the brightest minds in Landfall designed them so that once they were in the air, they would never have to come down.
Each airship was designed to function as mobile command centers for the Chapters ground forces, on-field research and development centers, medical facilities, troop and vertibird carriers- and most importantly, mobile artillery-support.
The airships were armed with a vast array of rail-gun anti-aircraft batteries to counter Dominion aircraft, and shielded by kinetic barriers to protect against enemy artillery. In addition to their deadly arsenal, a powerful giant laser-cannon was installed on each airship's hull. Dubbed 'super-lasers' by the scribes who designed them, the cannons were simply super-sized versions of the AER9 laser-rifle, and were connected directly to the airships' auxiliary power-grid.
The potential destructive power of the cannons were never taken into account, as the Brotherhood had yet to find a suitable testing area, so the super-lasers were kept under the classification 'experimental'.
Larsson stressed the importance of the Brotherhood maintaining an edge against the vast armies of the Dominion, and perhaps the many other enemies they might have in the future. The Texan Chapter possessed neither the overwhelming manpower nor the armored battalions that the Dominion had. To counter this disadvantage, the new Elder implemented a unique set of combat doctrines to his Chapter.
Ground teams, each formed by five knights, would act as the tip of the Brotherhood spear. Their job was the clear out any enemy positions, set up defense chokepoints for Equalizer anti-tank trucks to roll into, and neutralize any enemy forces who'd attempt to retake the position. They would be supported from the air by vertibird air-strikes, or by airship long-range artillery in more serious circumstances. The result was the creation of a highly mobile army, supposedly able to maneuver around enemy fortified positions and armoured columns, focusing on swift and decisive strikes on more vulnerable targets to soften the opposition for the Brotherhood's bigger guns.
Whether it was going to be effective remained to be seen.
Each airship would be deployed in key positions to firmly establish a foothold in the Dominion territories they sought to liberate. One of these key positions was the Corpse Coast, which the Dominion had just recently began annexing from the numerous raider factions that called the area home.
While the area was of little use to the Brotherhood, Larsson insisted on making a good and lasting first impression on the Dominion, chief among his reasons was that he wanted them to take his people seriously.
Six Lancer-Captains stood at attention before their assigned airships, awaiting their commander's final word. Each Lancer-Captain would command a crew of 200 lancers, an attachment of 25 scribes and 75 knights. Most of their crew were brought in right from Lost Hills and the Montana Chapter, to honor Corvinus' final wishes before he died. Under their tutelage, the initiates would learn first-hand the grim but rewarding work of serving under the 1st Fleet.
Lancer-Commander Lissandra Maxson, the High Elder's daughter and one of his veteran lancers, ascended the ramp leading into her airship's hangar. Her vessel, the 1st Fleet's flagship, was named Liberator and was the largest among the seven airships. This was due to the fact that the Liberator included an additional pair of decks designed to house the 1st Fleet's main communications center.
The other vessels; Benevolence, Malevolence, Vigilance, Righteous, Glory and Pride; formed the backbone of the Brotherhood's communications network. Every ground team, vertibird and field-gun emplacement were connected to this network through their own portable transmitters. No army could ever hope to fight a long war without proper communications, so the Brotherhood spared no expense to improve theirs. Elder Larsson had no intention of working in the blind at any turn of the campaign, and if they were in it to win they would do their utmost to keep it that way.
"Lancer-Captains!" Lancer-Commander Maxson declared, shouting at the top of her lungs as the airship's powerful engines roared to life. "To your ships! Go and meet the foe with righteous zeal, but fight with honor! Ad victoriam!"
The deafening noise of the Liberator's engines drowned out their reply, and the lancers scrambled to get underway. Soon, the airships made their eventual ascension into the sky, bringing with them their machines and men of war. The flagship took the twin airships Benevolence and Malevolence with her on the Mid-Texan Theatre, on a mission to drive a wedge between the Dominion's territories until they reached the capital city. Vigilance headed East for the Corpse Coast, Righteous and Glory headed Northwest to destroy the Dominion's settlements and annex their territories there, while Pride stayed at Landfall's airspace to act as both the Brotherhood's main defensive countermeasure as well as reserve force.
The Texan Chapter spent a great amount of resources to put its army together, and it would take years before it could recover and create another. It was up to the 1st Fleet to capture and seize Dominion manufacturing centers and resources to help balance their needs.
"Now remember, when you see a Dominion tank, never engage it from the front." Knight-Commander Marko paused in his briefing to see if the younger knights were listening, then barked at one of the new guys zoning out of the meeting. "Hey, Rowley! Eyes and ears! This briefing just might save your life."
"Y-Yes sir!" Knight Rowley stammered, snapping out of his daydream. "Sorry sir!"
Marko called for the anti-armor specialist knights together for a last-minute briefing. He could imagine the kid dreaming about the glories of their upcoming battle. And although he couldn't blame him for his excitement, Marko needed him to pay attention to that particular lesson especially since in his experience, the Dominion frontier was no less dangerous than its rear. If anything, it would hold the bulk of the Dominion's fighting force.
They may not see the Dominion's armoured battalions in the first engagement, but in the long run they definitely will be facing a lot of tanks.
He pointed to a diagram taped to the board, depicting a rough schematic representation of a Dominion M2 Black Bear MBT, and tapped at the frontal glacis. "This is the most protected part of a Dominion tank. It'll be a waste of good rockets to try and penetrate it from the front. The best way to get through its armor is to take it from the side, or from the rear."
Marko ignored the dirty snickers from among the gathered knights, "And if all else fails, call in an artillery-strike from the Liberator. Remember, knights, don't hesitate to call one in. That's exactly what this ship is for. Any questions?"
"I've got one, KC!" A veteran knight-sergeant declared, "What about Dominion light vehicles, or even infantry?"
"For Dominion medium-armored vehicles, one or two HEAT rounds should do the trick. Small-arms fire will usually be enough for light vehicles, but what you should watch out for is their guns. The Dominion's got a wide variety of different war machines, and every single one of them packs a punch. If you move to engage, prepare to receive enemy fire. Assume that whatever you throw at them, they can throw back just as hard."
Rowley raised his hand, "Commander, is it true that some Dominion soldiers have power-armor like ours?"
"If the reports are to be believed, no. What they have is not at all like ours." Marko replied, "They've had decades to improve upon their technologies. But that does not mean what we have is obsolete. Do I make myself clear, knights?"
The knights shared a nod of acknowledgement.
"One final warning." Marko said, "Dominion infantry carry a decent amount of firepower, ranging from small-caliber to energy weapons. Beware any soldier you see carrying a laser-rifle. Trust me, those things aren't salvaged weapons from the Old World. They will penetrate your armor, and Dominion rooks shoot to kill."
"Yikes. And here I thought these things were invincible." Rowley muttered, glancing down at his ancient but well-maintained suit. Like most knights, he inherited his power-armor from someone else, usually another Brotherhood soldier who died in the field.
The Knight-Commander noticed their misgivings and tried to rouse their fighting spirit, "We're the Brotherhood of Steel. Every single one of you who wears the sacred power-armor carries with him more than just a protective coat of steel. You carry with you the memories, the traditions, the very soul of the Brotherhood with you into battle. Dominion armor's nothing but an empty shell, a tool of oppression and further proof of their misguided attempts to bring civilization back to the Wasteland."
"All personnel, be advised..." Lancer-Commander Maxson's voice rang clear through the intercom, "Twenty minutes to op-zone. Lancers and knights, to your stations. Prepare for battle."
"This is it, soldiers!" Marko yelled, snatching up his helmet. "The moment of glory! Arm up and assemble at the hangar! Move!"
Power-armored boots thundered across the steel walkways, every knight found his or her unit and boarded the vertibirds for deployment. Twenty minutes later, the Liberator descended to an altitude of 3000ft and broke through the clouds. The Benevolence and her twin ship Malevolence followed the flagship's lead. Their first target, a Dominion outpost and supply distribution center, lay right on top of a flat valley below. No cover for miles around, but the prize was well worth it.
Long-range scans indicated that the outpost had a motor pool filled with medium and light armored vehicles, no tanks. There were plenty of waster vehicles too, indicative of the outpost's second purpose as a trading hub. It was safe to assume that the outpost would have a Dominion garrison somewhere inside. Further scans showed a surge in activity within the outpost garrison compound, which meant that the Dominion spotted them just as their fleet of vertibirds detached for deployment, and they were preparing to repel the invading Brotherhood of Steel.
Tracer-fire filled the air the moment the vertibirds closed in on the outpost. Dominion high-caliber field-guns, mounted on turrets on the walls and guard-towers, spat round after round towards the approaching swarm. Gun emplacements set up around the perimeter, along with sections of machinegun nests, rattled noisily as they poured in their deadly hail.
Every now and then, a vertibird would catch a big one through its rotors and burst into flames. It would go down at a breathtaking hundred meters per second, taking with it both the hapless crew and the screaming knights to the ground.
To avoid the enemy's fire, some vertibird pilots chose to land outside the outpost just so they could get their men on the ground before flying back to the airships. The maneuvers didn't end well, for landing right in front of the Dominion gun emplacements turned them into juicy big fat targets, all ripe for the picking.
As soon as the casualties started piling up, the Brotherhood's comm channels were filled with the frantic cries of lancer-pilots, the panic-stricken screams of dying knights, and the roar of Dominion guns.
Most of them managed to get over the walls and drop their ground teams inside the outpost. Among them was Knight-Commander Marko's team.
"For honor! For the Brotherhood!" Marko cried, his voice amplified by his helmet's speakers. "ATTACK!"
His fellow knights brought their weapons to bear and fired on every Dominion soldier in sight, giving the rest of the vertibirds some breathing room as the defenders diverted their attentions to the unwelcome landing party inside the outpost.
"They're in the perimeter!" He heard someone scream, "Sarge, get your boys in the fight!"
The knight right next to Marko took a massive anti-armor round to the head, taking it clean off. The lifeless body encased in active power-armor stood frozen in its tracks like a statue. The heavy staccato burst that followed toppled it to the ground, then cut down another knight. Cursing himself for freezing up, Marko ordered his men to find cover as a Dominion Centaur unleashed its 20mm cannons on them.
"Hoskins! Where the hell are you?!" Marko yelled as he and the knights hunkered down behind the wreck of a crashed vertibird. "I need you to silence that big gun!"
"Hoskins is down!" Knight McKenzie replied, pointing to one of their dead lying in a pool of his own blood. Several fist-sized holes were punched into his back, somehow missing the HEAT rockets attached to his power-pack. Hoskins' rocket-launcher lay a few meters from where he had fallen.
"Fuck." Marko said, "Cover me, I need that launcher."
"Covering fire, on me." McKenzie told the other knights, and together they leaned out of cover to suppress the Centaur gunner so Marko could retrieve Hoskin's weapon.
Moving quickly, Marko snatched up the loaded launcher, then squeezed the trigger once he'd taken aim. The rocket did its work just fine, turning the armored car into a burning toaster. The explosion didn't kill everybody in the Centaur, the gunner scrambled out of the turret and tried to roll on the ground to put out the flames. His agonized screams were cut short when McKenzie emptied the rest of her MF cell into him.
"Press the attack!" The Knight-Commander retrieved Hoskin's ammunition and placed his laser-rifle in his fallen brother's hands. "Silence every gun, kill every Dominion bastard in sight! Move!"
As the ground teams worked their way through the walls, attacking every gun emplacement they could find, more and more vertibirds dropped their cargo to the LZ until the Dominion outpost was practically swarming with Brotherhood knights. The veterans of Lost Hills led the way, followed by the eager Texan Chapter loyalists.
It took about two hours before the last gun was silenced. The Dominion soldiers just wouldn't surrender. By the time the battle was over, the entire garrison was completely wiped out.
All in all, the Brotherhood killed a total of 144 Dominion rooks, not counting the waster civilians who got caught in the crossfire. Once the outpost had been taken, the victorious knights let out a cheer. The real cause for their celebration was the fact that most of the outpost's hoard of technologies, vehicles and weapons were left intact following the invasion.
The Dominion's loss became the Brotherhood's bounty.
Knight-Commander Marko surveyed the battlefield before notifying Lancer-Commander Maxson of their success. The Brotherhood had their own losses too, amounting to a total of 56 knights and 66 lancer crewmen. It was a loss that could never be replaced, but the prize bought with their blood was well worth the price. As far as Marko was concerned, every weapon and vehicle they seized would and could be used against the Dominion.
And yet, the weight of his battle-brethren's deaths weighed heavily on his mind.
"The day is ours, commander." Mckenzie said with a smile, removing her helmet to breathe in the scent of victory, which largely consisted of burning oil and fresh blood.
"That's just one battle. We need to do better." He replied, turning around to watch the vertibirds descend from the skies to bring in fresh troops to reinforce the outpost. It was theirs, their foothold and the start of many victories. "Have the men take a breather, they've earned it."
Marko started to walk away when he overheard Knight Rowley give voice to his shock over and over to his friends. "Why? Why couldn't they just... surrender?"
One of the Lost Hills veterans answered him, "You live out here in the frontier, face nothing but raiders all the live long day, surrender's gonna be the last thing on your mind in a fight."
"But... but we're the Brotherhood of Steel!" Rowley said, "We would've spared their lives!"
"Really? Would you?" Marko asked him, then pointed to a sprawled corpse of Dominion officer. "Would he?"
The other knights stared at the Knight-Commander, unnerved by his callous disregard for the enemy. Even as he walked away, they found themselves thinking. Was there really any honor to this fight, or even the battles they'd have in the near future? They weren't fighting raiders anymore, they were fighting people with a purpose. As misguided as the Brotherhood might think they were, a people with a purpose was still something to be respected.
For men like Marko, no such people deserved his respect. As a testament to this belief, he tore down the flag of the Dominion and set it on fire.
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