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"Brotherhood lands? Boy, this here is Texas. Lone Star State's all Dominion land now." - Dominion Rook, Anonymous.
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"Down! Down!" Brand yelled as he and the rooks raced across the bridge towards the Brotherhood emplacement.
Following his command, the rooks stacked up against the hollow wreck of a civilian car and waited eagerly for his assessment of the situation. They witnessed the power-armored rooks go down in a bright burst of green plasma, and get subsequently pinned down by the Brotherhood gunner. Brand felt tempted to just give up and let them win this one, but he knew that he had to keep up appearances.
"We've got men down there in need of assistance, let's go storm the enemy position." He said, "Get ready to haul ass."
The rooks followed his lead as they all made a mad sortie into the enemy's defensive line. Brand suppressed the Brotherhood gunner with his carbine, hoping for the most part that the bullets wouldn't hit anyone but would help get him safely across. His men, however, didn't share his reservations and stormed the Brotherhood position with guns blazing. They killed everyone in their path, driving a few survivors out into the desert. The squad sustained casualties of their own, which served only to fuel their hatred for their enemies.
Brand felt his heart sink as the rooks surrounded a wounded knight and gunned him down. The poor bastard wasn't even in his armor when they reached him. By the time they stopped firing, there wasn't anything left of his face to recognize. Brand could only tell he was a knight by his orange jumpsuit.
As the rooks secured the position, the paladin gave his commander a heads-up on their success. "Come in, HQ. Brotherhood field gun emplacement neutralized. Roll in some of the armor, over."
"Fuck me, would you look at that." One of the rooks remarked as he stared curiously at the giant gauss cannon sticking out of the cammie net. "What do you think it is?"
"Whatever it is, it packs a mean punch." Another said, "I talked with one of the sentries. Said he saw it tear a vertibird gunship apart in one shot the other day."
Rush fiddled around with the controls, "That right? Doubt it'll make a dent in one of our tanks..."
"Destroy it." Brand ordered, keen on denying the Dominion the chance of taking apart and analyzing the Brotherhood's weapons. "Rush, get some grenades and stuff it down that barrel. Gotta deny the enemy his prize somehow."
"You got it, boss." Rush said with a shrug, not even bothering to question the NCO's orders.
As the rooks set up around the emplacement and busied themselves with disabling the Equalizer gunbus, Brand searched the dead for anything of value. Among the corpses of the initiates was a walkie-talkie, still in one piece and buzzing with activity. The paladin quickly shut it off and stuffed it into his pocket. "Let's dig in, rooks! We're expecting a counterattack, so act like it!"
Some of the surviving power-armored rooks staggered towards the emplacement and hurriedly exited their suits to begin some quick repairs. The Brotherhood's defense of the field gun was fierce, and Brand expected nothing less of his people. With the field gun destroyed and the men left with little else to do other than wait and remain vigilant, Brand thought about the next step in his plan.
He had his means of establishing communication with his people. He only needed to find the right moment to contact the person commanding the Brotherhood vanguard, and from there it would be up to whoever picks up the receiver on the other end.
Unfortunately, he wouldn't get his chance any time soon. With one bridge open, and the other in the process of being wrestled away from Brotherhood control, the Dominion armored company was able to cross over and reinforce the defenders of Riverside.
They arrived just in time for the Brotherhood to send another raiding party to probe at the Dominion's defenses, showing that over time the Brotherhood was quickly adapting its tactics. Every battle was a lesson, for both sides. The initiates of yesterday were fast becoming the veterans of tomorrow. With each raid, the Dominion started to show that for all its monstrous tenacity, it was a beast that bled.
Brotherhood Centaurs, outfitted with additional armor and more powerful energy weapons, made swift runs along the citadel's outer perimeter. Firing accurately on the move, they blasted Dominion sentry towers and outbound vertibirds to the ground. Any sorties against the main vanguard were beaten back to the gates, while any attempts to reconnect supply lines were subsequently rebuffed.
This new strategy, which showed more success as opposed to a direct assault on Riverside, was all thanks to Knight McKenzie. What her predecessor lacked in terms of strategic acumen, she proved to possess in great supply. She would need such traits in her new position as Knight-Commander, for as much as she received the position, she too inherited the consequences of Marko's failure. It cost the Brotherhood a lot of good men, and such a loss cannot be replaced.
Knight-Commander Kenzie was more cautious, but remained opportunistic with how she handled her resources. She was only biding her time, waiting for the conditions to shift to her advantage.
But, as always, such conditions were more inclined to get worse than better.
A massive sandstorm was coming from the west, and it was coming fast.
Col. Fox put his hands on the balcony railing and leaned casually against the solid steel bar. He smiled proudly as he watched his men assemble at the town square, all geared up and wearing power-armor. They were heading out with two armored platoons of eight tanks to spearhead the approach into the Brotherhood positions. Two other armored groups from the 37th, made up of Black Bear tanks and Centaurs, would circle around to form a three-pronged attack to crush the Brotherhood and end the siege.
The colonel was well aware of the approaching sandstorm, but made no effort to hold off the counterattack for another day.
If anything, the storm was going to work to their advantage. If there was a delay it would be to set the operation rolling in tandem with the storm itself. The Dominion was no stranger to the harsh nature of the Wasteland, and sandstorms were a common occurrence, so much so that they've adapted over the years. The sandstorm would conceal the Dominion's advance from the Brotherhood, and thanks to their advanced model of power-armor they could operate unhindered by those conditions.
He was also aware of the Brotherhood airships circling in the sky above them. Those things were packing a mean hook for the Dominion, but for some reason didn't dish out a second nor a third swing at Riverside since the first attack. The colonel wasn't one to sit and wait for the enemy to build up its strength, they needed to shove them back. Like many Dominion commanders, he believed in the violence of action, the kind that set the tempo of war and forced the opposition to dance to their tune.
"Good luck out there, rooks." Fox saluted his men and went back inside.
On point was the Painbox, an M2 Black Bear crewed by veterans of the First Expansion Campaign that won Carlon from the Redneck mutants. The Painbox was credited with over 70 vehicle kills and 121 foot-mobile kills, setting a high bar for other tank crews in the 37th to aspire to- not that any managed to get anywhere near that tally. For the Dominion, it was easy to distinguish the tank from the rest of the M2's due to its additional layer of slat armor around the turret and hull, which improved the tank's resistance against rocket-propelled grenades or other shaped-charge warheads.
That, and the coal-black name spray-painted elegantly on its 105 mm cannon.
Armored Platoon Commander 1st Lieutenant Nicky Reeves, who commanded the Painbox, slung the strap of his binoculars over his head and buttoned up. The tank was pretty much his home, it purred in greeting when the driver's foot tested the pedals. He closed the hatch and ordered the driver to begin moving the tank, clutching the comtac receiver so he could relay the command to the rest of the battalion. "All tanks, forward. Let's go make some money."
The comm channel erupted with replies from other tank commanders, "Hoo-fucking-aah."
The Painbox rolled out into the desert, crossing the bridge retaken earlier by Sgt. Brand's task force, then into the silent graveyard filled with Brotherhood dead. The winds were picking up fast, and over the horizon the mighty silhouette of the Texan Wasteland's biggest predator could be seen rising above the gargantuan mountains to the west. The sandstorm, responsible for weeding out the weak from the strong and burying them beneath fields of stinging, burning grains that clogged engines and choked out exposed throats. It stirred up the land like a furious ladle, throwing waves of sand and dirt wherever it pleased.
It covered the province like a warm blanket, driving the Brotherhood of Steel to dig in and wait out the storm. High above them, on the airships, the lancers would remain untouched by the storm. However, this also meant that their aircraft would be grounded while weather conditions remained unfavorable. Until the sandstorm passed, the ground troops would be on their own.
On their own, unaware of the beasts of steel and composite alloy pushing through the storm as though it was but a gentle breeze.
Unaware, until someone started talking on the radio.
The warning came from Knight-Commander McKenzie's command tent, it came barking through the listening post's radio. A frequency registered only to Brotherhood personnel- knights, in particular. Amid the incessant noise of a loose tent flap waving in the wind, Paladin Danik Brand's voice barked at whoever was listening.
"... Attention! Attention! Brothers and sisters of steel! This is Paladin Danik Brand, designated Infiltrator Alpha by Elder Corvinus of the Texan Chapter!"
"Ma'am!" The comms officer yelled for the knight-commander. "Incoming traffic from blockade task force!"
Kenzie trotted over to listen in on the exchange, "Paladin? Did he say he's a paladin? Send him through."
The officer leaned forward and pressed a button on the receiver, "Task force, this is Forward Command. We're receiving you, Paladin. Send traffic, over."
"... Be advised, Dominion heavy armor headed your way in force, under cover by sandstorm. Total estimate, impossible to count."
"Copy that. The Brotherhood thanks you for your warning, paladin. Forward Command out."
The knight-commander sprung into action following the warning, rousing the men from their tents and crude thatch shelters to gear up and arm themselves. Within minutes, the whole camp was broken down and the entire Brotherhood force mobilized. Kenzie wasn't about to let the Dominion catch them on a battlefield of their own choosing, nor would she risk the lives of her people by sending them to fight in open battle. They had as much of an advantage as their enemies due to the sandstorm, and she was determined to use it.
While initiates packed up the tents and stowed everything into their transporters, Kenzie ordered some tents to remain as decoys to confuse the enemy. She ordered mines to be scattered all over the camp perimeter, and chose several tank-killer teams to conceal themselves behind sandbag emplacements and trenches.
Their goal was not to stay and kill the tanks, but to disable as many as they could to put some distance between the main force and the Dominion. All the while the gears in Kenzie's head were turning, coming up with a plan that would turn a bitter defeat into a victory for the Brotherhood. They had a man inside Riverside, a tiny window of opportunity that could see them through its gates without spending too much blood.
And when the storm lifts, the Dominion tanks would remain out in the open long enough for the airships to close in and blast them off to hell. She could only hope they'd fix the damn cannons soon enough for that to happen.
Knight-Commander McKenzie chose to stay with the tank-killers, entrusting the lives of her men to Lancer-Commander Maxson aboard the Liberator. She would direct them to the proper course with her eyes from above, better than Marko or Kenzie ever could. They would relocate to a safer spot behind the hills, away from the Dominion's artillery and blood-hounds. All the knight-commander needed to worry about now was to fight and survive the upcoming battle.
The tank-killers were made up of the usual mix of old men and young boys. Old men, veterans of raider and scav wars from the Basin to Lost Hills, wearing power-armor and carrying quad-barrel rocket launchers. Young boys, half-baked in the furnace of war but strong and eager enough to do as they were meant to do. The latter would go into battle wearing body armor and not much else, so they could move around quickly in the storm. They were armed with an assortment of salvaged Dominion assault-rifles and Brotherhood laser-rifles, to finish off any dismounting enemy infantry.
"Remember, never shoot a Dominion tank from the front unless you're aiming for the main gun." Kenzie said to the men, reminding them of the lessons told during their briefings. "You kill the beast from the side or stick it up its ass. Got it?"
"Yes, KC!"
With all that said, the teams went their way and concealed themselves in three foot deep foxholes with some desert-pattern cammie nets to cover the top. They were positioned in a straight line in front of the decoy tents, a thin line against a three-pronged tank assault. There, they waited for the tanks to roll in, to spring the trap they've laid for the Dominion. Now that Kenzie had the time to think about it, she realized this was exactly the kind of thing she was waiting for all this time.
A chance for the Dominion to come out of its high walls and step into the Wasteland. A chance for them to feel the sting of Brotherhood weapons.
"We've got movement!" A knight announced, loudly enough for the others to hear, then gently lifted the net so he could stick the barrels of his launcher out. His fellow soldiers readied their rifles as the first silhouette of an M2 Black Bear was sighted moving through the hazy shroud of orange sand. "Get ready to engage!"
"Hold your fire!" Kenzie barked into the radio, "You wanna give the game away now? Let them roll over the mine field first!"
"Fuck me, there's so many of 'em!" Another tank-killer team leader exclaimed, watching as four tanks rumbled past his foxhole.
Suddenly, one of the tanks drove its left treads directly over a mine half-dug into the sand. The explosion sounded a bit muffled by the roar of the sandstorm, but the effects were well received by the tank-killers. The bear was crippled, and it stopped in its tracks for the hunter to go for the kill. Kenzie's team was the closest to spring into action, and the knight-commander landed the first shot to the tank's exposed side.
There was a loud clap as she fired a HEAT round just above the tank's treads, followed by a sharp snap when the rocket slammed into the Black Bear's hull. Then, after a brief pause, the tank's turret popped off. A bright show of fireworks lit up the storm as the ammo cooked, alerting the rest of the herd to what's up in sand valley.
In the confusion, they blundered over into the rest of the mines, thinking that they were under attack from all sides and were rolling out of the killzone. This, of course, put the whole counterattack into a grounding halt. All across the valley, vehicles were popping like firecrackers in Old America's 4th of July, leaving crippled tanks all ripe for the taking. Seeing the decoy tents, some of the tanks opened fire. The sound of their guns was deafening, and the power that came out of their fiery mouths was equally frightening.
When the tents were blown and sent flying off into the storm, Kenzie felt grateful to have never been on the receiving end of those guns. She hoped she will never have to, as long as she and her men played this game right. And now that they've dealt some damage, it was time for them to disappear.
"Shit, here comes another!" The same trigger-happy knight exclaimed, pointing his launcher to one of the tanks barreling towards their foxhole. The tank had its front to them, the thickest part of its armor that would shrug off a rocket as easily as it would a bullet. The tank gunner hadn't spotted them yet, the main gun was pointed elsewhere. But the tank was coming, and it was coming fast.
A three foot foxhole wouldn't be enough to keep the thing from crushing them beneath its treads, and it was too late for any of them to get out in time. Even if they did, they would be quite the sight for all of those tank gunners. A turkey shoot.
And so the knight threw back the cammie net, aimed his launcher at the tank's main gun, then pulled the trigger.
The rocket detonated just fine, but it detonated outside the tank, not inside. Through the clouds of dust, the knight couldn't tell that this particular tank had a few modifications to its armor. Slat armor, while giving off the false impression of being just another useless layer of welded metal bars, was quite resistant against rockets. It saved the tank crew, and the knight just gave away his position.
In quick response, the tank stopped and the turret traversed its main gun forward, then down. The knight didn't get a chance to fire a second rocket, his number was up. Through the sandstorm blowing around them, Kenzie could see the name painted on the tank's barrel as it fired and blew an entire tank-killer team to pieces.
Painbox.
There was nothing left there for her to save, and they were running out of time.
"All teams, pull back! We're done here!" She cried, covering her squad while they trotted off and disappeared into the storm.
Once the last man was safely out of the enemy's sight, Kenzie followed them out and left the Dominion grunts to comb at scraps. By the time the storm lifted, they'll soon realize that they've come all the way out there for nothing.
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