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"Shhh..." Karter hissed, "Not a sound now."
Norn, Goose and Mickey ducked behind some scattered piles of straphored concrete bricks. The four saboteurs hid themselves from the light of a passing convoy of armored trucks heading into the Dominion airbase. Once the scribe thought it was clear, she led them into the outer perimeter fence, carefully avoiding the security lights as they crept up to the wire. Pollen would be waiting for them with the car, ready to drive them out of the airfield grounds once they've completed their mission.
Patrols were few, and the majority of the Dominion's forces were focusing on sending men and machines out to fight in the frontlines. They had little reason to fear attacks from within its borders. But that night it was all about to change, which was why Karter decided to split up the team to simultaneously hit the Dominion from multiple points in one well coordinated attack.
Manufacturing and production centers, military supply depots, even recruitment centers. Bridges, purification plants and airfields. Those were the targets, and they were to blow them up within three days. After that, the infiltrators were to slip out of Dominion territory and head back to the Permian Basin. Karter knew that once they struck a blow from the inside, all hell was going to break loose. Their enemies may be the arrogant sort, but they were quick to adapt. Any hint of saboteurs, and the judges will be on their trail within minutes.
Norn helped Karter with cutting the fence, then lifted the wire flap to let her crawl through first. He pushed the bag of explosives after her, then followed her in. The other two initiates glanced around, then crawled in next. The four split up, each carrying approximately 20 pounds worth of bombs. A small case containing a pound of plastic explosive and a quarter pound thermite, both holding enough bite to cripple a Dominion Bloodhound or set its fusion engine on fire. Best part was that they could all be remotely detonated.
The other teams were carrying far bigger explosives for their assigned targets. Most of them would be dealing with sturdy Dominion structures, not vehicles. But the real challenge was operating covertly, and keeping it that way when they're out of the area of operations.
The saboteurs crept up to the planes sitting idly near the landing strip, planted their bombs, then beat a hasty retreat back to the hole in the fence.
"I almost feel bad doing this." Goose whispered as they crawled through the wire flap. As soon as he was clear, he turned his head to look at the Bloodhounds. They were beautiful, those air machines of death. They would've looked quite the sight having Brotherhood marks and piloted by Brotherhood lancers, he regretted having to destroy them.
Karter, her blood pumping with adrenaline, snapped. "Shut up and keep your head down, we're almost-"
Suddenly, there was a loud rumble as a big explosion rocked the countryside. Several miles away, a munitions depot just went up in flames. Karter and her team watched the bright display for a moment, savoring the success of one of the infiltrator teams she sent down to Carlon City. That was one less store of munitions for the front, one less stockpile of bullets and shells meant to kill the Brotherhood.
Dominion vertibirds sprung to action, bringing troops to secure the burning depot for the firefighters to come and put out the flames. It was all the distraction Karter's team needed, and she hit the button on the detonator to keep the birds from leaving.
Soon, the airfield itself was in flames. The fighter planes, the vertibird gunships and heavy transporters, blowing up one after the other.
"We did it!" Norn cried out in excitement. "Glory to the Brotherhood!"
"Let's go, initiates." Karter said, "Time to make tracks."
The scribe led the way back to the waiting getaway car, but as soon as they stepped out into the road, their cover was blown. The explosions at the airfield weren't good enough of a distraction for the airbase personnel. There were enough vigilant eyes looking out for the perpetrators, and it only took two watchtower guards to shed some searchlights on the fleeing saboteurs before half the airbase was hot on their trail.
"Go! Go!" Karter yelled as soon as she shut the door beside her, and the car rolled out into the highway.
Eight lightly-armored jeeps pursued the car beating a hasty retreat into the desert. Eight roaring desert cats, driven by men with their blood boiling with barely contained anger. The officer among them, at least, gave the saboteurs one chance to surrender. "Driver, halt your vehicle! This is your only warning!"
Pollen was sweating in spite of the cool night air. His eyes betrayed his fear, and Karter warned him against thinking about taking up the rook's offer. "Don't you fucking stop, Pollen! If these bastards catch us, they'll do worse things than kill us!"
Karter didn't know exactly what the Dominion was capable of doing to its enemies, but one could always assume the worst. The Brotherhood firmly believed that the Dominion was just as barbaric as the rest of the Wasteland, and did exactly as one would expect a Wasteland faction would or could do. The things raiders did to the men, to the women and children- the things the Brotherhood were fighting to get rid of. Every one of them swore that they wouldn't be captured alive, but following through with that vow wasn't easy.
The loud rumble of a vertibird gunship making a pass overhead caused the saboteurs to look up. The gunship made a turn, then hovered directly over the road. The barrel of its minigun began to spin, and Karter knew at once that escape was never an option.
Still, she ducked to the close to the car door and covered her head. The vehicle shook as the vertibird gunship let out a burst from its minigun, which chewed up the car and split it nicely down the middle. When it started to slow down, Karter lifted her head, astonished to find herself alive even after the gunship's attack. Pieces of metal and glass stuck to her arms and legs like the quills on a porcupine. The bullets missed her by a hair's breadth. Her initiates, on the other hand, weren't so lucky.
Something hot and sticky clung to the back of her neck. At first, the scribe thought it was just sweat, although the powerful coppery scent of fresh blood told her otherwise.
There wasn't much left of Norn and Goose when she dared to look in the backseat. The young men were torn to shreds, leaving a gruesome pile of twitching meat on the aged leather seats. Mickey was crying silently as he leaned heavily on the door, clutching a bleeding stump where his right arm used to be. Pollen was frozen with shock on the driver's seat. Horrified, Karter could only stare at the gaping hole on the right side of his head where his eye was now dangling out of.
Eventually, the wreck fell apart once it collided with a highway fence. The Dominion jeeps surrounded the smoking vehicle.
Shakily, Karter drew out the small 9mm pistol she kept holstered around her ankle, cocked it, then put a round through Pollen's head. Just as she was about to slide the barrel through her mouth, a Dominion soldier grabbed her weapon and expertly slid the tip of his finger through the back of the trigger, preventing it from going off.
That was the last thing Karter remembered before feeling someone's powerful arms grabbing her throat from behind in a chokehold and knocking her out.
With the last of the initiates neutralized, the rooks were left with the scribe and a large mess to clean up. The saboteurs were successful in breaching their defenses and dealing a considerable blow to the Dominion war machine. The loss of those planes and ammunition would be felt for months to come, but it would do little to set the Dominion itself back.
The unconscious Magney Karter was hauled off to a secret facility in Elysion, to be subjected to the Dominion's finest interrogation experts.
News traveled fast up the chain of command, reaching even up to the office of the High Marshal himself. Preliminary evidence suggested the work of saboteurs, with no clear affiliations. However, Stern wasn't a firm believer in coincidences. The Dominion was at war with the Brotherhood of Steel, and who else would benefit the most from the destruction of their military infrastructure than them?
Come the morn, Roman Stern held a private meeting at his office, calling upon his cabinet of loyal supporters.
All six of them arrived at 7:00 am sharp, making themselves comfortable in their seats as they waited for the High Marshal to start. Howard Keene, Lord Commander of the Dominion Army. Col. Reese Hannigan, commander of the Dominion Air Force and veteran of the First Expansion Campaign. Dr. Jack Holiday, director of GenTek, the newest branch of the Dominion's research and development division. Dr. Dee Bella, director of the Dominion Breeding Program. Dr. Erik and Felicia Weiss, lead scientists in cybernetic enhancements.
They were the inner circle of the Dominion's high command, Stern's most trusted officials, the men and women responsible for helping in creating the post-apocalyptic empire that dominated Middle Texas.
"Thank you all for coming." The High Marshal addressed his cabinet, "Before we get started, there's someone I'd like you to meet."
He paused to tap his finger on the button under his desk. Leaning forward, he spoke into the intercom. "Send him in."
The door to the High Marshal's right opened, and in walked a tall man dressed in the same clothes as the High Marshal. His unnaturally pale skin and inhumanly blue eyes preceded his introductions. He was an aesir, a name given to the Dominion's small population of hybrid transhuman soldiers, and which was now fast becoming a colloquial catch-all term for GenTek's creations.
"Who are you supposed to be?" Keene asked.
"My name is Roman Stern." The aesir replied, standing next to his seated progenitor. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."
Everyone shared the Lord Commander's quizzical look, except for Dr. Holiday. The scientist had been looking forward to the day when Stern would finally unveil his success.
"Holy shit." Hannigan remarked, "You actually did it! But why?"
"Ladies and gentlemen, you're looking at the future." The older Stern declared, "The future of our great nation, and the future of mankind itself. For the last twenty years you've all seen what our transhuman soldiers are capable of. Their strength, their tenacity and their longevity. They will prove invaluable, in this war and all the wars to come. GenTek's research into biotransference brings us closer to making this technology accessible to all our citizens, to help us all evolve."
He could see it in their eyes; the fascination, the apprehension and the anxiety. With this technology came boundless opportunities, as well as untold dangers. Yet, the High Marshal's vision wasn't at all unfounded. To better adapt the Dominion people to the horrors of the Wasteland, they needed to make that step. Just like Old America, when they used to fear the power of the atom, which led to an era of prosperity.
With the right steps, they could do it all again and avoid a second apocalypse.
"My aesir will be my successor." Stern continued, "He will ensure that the Dominion remains strong. As you have all followed and served with me throughout the years, so too will you support him when I am long gone. I expect nothing less."
After a brief period of silence, Keene spoke again. "If I may ask, what'll he do in the mean time, while you remain High Marshal of the Dominion?"
The aesir replied, "Why, I'm heading out to the frontlines, Lord Commander. I've already assembled all the most experienced of our aesirs to put together a new special forces unit."
The older Stern glanced up at him with a disapproving frown. It wasn't that he didn't know what the aesir was up to, he just didn't like the idea of him wanting to take every chance to serve in the Dominion frontier. It reminded Stern so much of his younger days in the US military, when he was still full of life and thirsting for adventure.
"What?" His hybrid counterpart said, "I told you, I'm not sitting around a fucking desk while a war's going on."
An old argument, one that the older Stern didn't have the strength or the will to go through again. He had to allow the aesir to make himself useful, albeit reluctantly, as the commander of his own spec ops unit. The experience could be of some use in the future, when he finally takes his place as High Marshal. Stern turned back to the cabinet, "Alright, shall we get on with the rest of this meeting? Hannigan, you first. I'd like to hear more about this debacle concerning the loss of 33 fighter planes and a burning airfield."
The full report that both Sterns were dreading to hear came at last. There weren't 33 fighter planes lost. There were 56, together with 3 vertibird supercarriers, 15 vertibird gunships lost and 30 base personnel dead. The blame didn't fall entirely on the saboteurs. It was the Dominion's arrogance, its lack of vigilance that allowed the enemy hold an advantage over them. The Brotherhood of Steel was using tactics seemingly on par with their own, and weren't as limited with their resources as the raider or scav factions the Dominion faced before.
Clearly, something needed to be done. Changes needed to be made, otherwise the same thing would happen again.
The High Marshal was quick to take action. He had experience with dealing with infiltrators in the past, but they needed the right tools to get the job done right. He waited until he had finished with the others, before turning back to Dr. Holiday. The rest of the cabinet left for their respective workplaces, leaving the High Marshal to discuss freely with the GenTek director. "Jack, a moment please?"
"Yes sir?"
"I know your team's success with perfecting the memory scanning procedure. Without it, the biotransference projects would be useless. Is it possible for you to adapt this technology to enhance our... intelligence gathering methods? Specifically, aid in the interrogation of the Brotherhood saboteur?"
Holiday nodded, a sly smile forming on his lips. "I can make it happen, High Marshal."
"Good. Get to work, then. We need to know exactly who and what we're dealing with here."
After the sandstorm lifted from the valley south of Riverside, it blew away any trace of the Brotherhood encampment. Sand and dirt erased the tracks left behind by the retreating army. Even the daunting silhouettes of the Brotherhood airships disappeared from Dominion skies.
For the Dominion, it was good to have the pressure relieved. With the attack on their main airfield at Carlon, the air assault on the airships they've been planning for weeks was put on hold while replacements were being pumped out of the factories. Thankfully, the saboteurs were largely unsuccessful in hitting the military infrastructure at its most vital points. Distribution centers or stockpile depots were of secondary importance next to the main manufacturing facilities, and these were spared from the Brotherhood's attacks.
Dominion propaganda was quick to capitalize on the opportunity, galvanizing the populace and stirring up old hatred for outside hostilities. For the people of the sprawling wasteland empire, it was so unlike the times when the raiders used to plague their borders. The Brotherhood of Steel was a foe driven to destroy the Dominion, they weren't there for a proxy war or seasonal raid. They were there for an all-out offensive, and they were headed straight for Elysion.
And with the help of a spy so deeply embedded in the heart of the conflict, they just might reach it.
Brand hunched over his seat in the Centaur and glanced around at the men sitting in front and beside him. He and his squad were tasked with providing support for the rooks of the 2nd Reconnaissance Battalion, who in turn were tasked with scouting the region south of Riverside, to determine the extent of the enemy's withdrawal.
After driving for miles in a mixed convoy of medium armored infantry-fighting vehicles and lightly armored recon jeeps, it seemed as if the Brotherhood vanished entirely. Brand would've been content with that, if he was in command of the company. But he wasn't, so the paladin reluctantly changed his plans concerning linking up with the Brotherhood and breaking the stalemate they've gotten themselves in.
The convoy was made up of four Centaur IFV's and an escort of six jeeps. These Centaurs were a variant of the Mark Two, armed with a 76mm cannon with a coaxial 20mm assault gun. The Dominion wasn't so flexible in coming up with different designs for their vehicles, seeing as how they worked just fine with their intended roles. Although the chassis remained unchanged, most vehicles were just given different main weapons or additional armor.
In the Centaur Mk. II-76's case, with all the extra protection measures, moved like a bus but hit like one.
Brand liked the Centaur, and for his last transmission with the Knight-Commander of the Brotherhood's armed forces he stressed the importance of leaving enough of the vehicles to be salvaged for later. Should the Brotherhood win in the coming battle, they would need whatever resources they could get from the Dominion's defeat.
Also, he would very much like to drive one.
The convoy went off-road, avoiding the main highway as it would surely contain the best spots for an ambush. The Brotherhood operated similarly to the tactics of the Dominion Army, and so the rooks used this knowledge to plan their movements carefully. Raiders lacked discipline and even basic tactics, this enemy was different and it became clear that the Brotherhood didn't shy from utilizing maneuver warfare.
In fact, it would seem like it was the only thing they were good at.
Brand and the recon team were making fast progress over the vast red plains separating the Sand Valley from the uncharted wastes leading into the Permian Basin. Familiar ground for the paladin, foreign for the rooks riding with him. The sandy flatlands seemed to go on forever, stretching out far into the horizon, the monotony of fields of cactus plants broken only by the jagged silhouettes of faraway mountains. Sometimes, a small chain of arid hills or a stand of rock- red or yellow or white, or sometimes all four- like a layer cake, would thrust out of the plains.
Not a scrap of it was habitable. But just because no one lived there didn't necessarily mean it was empty.
A Brotherhood Shieldbearer mech was perched nicely on top of one of the hills, covered by a cammie net that made it look like just another jutting rock. This particular mech was armed with a gauss cannon, the same kind the Brotherhood used to arm their Equalizer tank-destroyers. It worked like a giant sniper rifle, the perfect weapon to engage an armored reconnaissance convoy from great distances and leave little to no trace of the shot's source.
Its pilot moved the cannon and ranged his first target, which was the lead Centaur IFV. Once he was satisfied with the calculations, he had his mech squeeze the massive trigger on the cannon to prime it up and released it to fire. With such a high-velocity weapon, the pilot didn't need to compensate for shot fall with the cannon's near-straight trajectory. When he fired, the round punched right through the armor of the first Centaur, passed through to the other side and buried itself into the ground.
Then, it detonated.
The blast tossed the IFV off its wheels and the smoking wreck flipped over the ground and landed right on top of one of the escort jeeps. The rooks sprung into action, or rather, kicked their vehicles into high gear. To survive an ambush where the enemy remained unseen, the goal was to keep moving, to get out of the killzone. There was nowhere to hide for miles, however. The convoy was deep in hostile territory, and all around was flat and open land.
The Shieldbearer had the high ground, with a powerful gun at its disposal. By all accounts, it was the end of the line for the recon team. But the men and women of the 2nd Recon Battalion were used to ambushes. They had the means to fight back with their 76mm cannons, so they fought back. It was the only way to stay alive, to engage the shooter directly, so that's exactly what they did. The only problem with that plan was that they had no idea where the shot was coming from, so the convoy fanned out and kept their spacing as they selected a direction they thought was the right way.
The second shot came from behind them, then a third, then a fourth, revealed multiple shooters from different locations. Good ones. They landed all their shots with pinpoint accuracy. A turkey shoot, for all intents and purposes.
Although Brand was smiling on the inside for such a successfully laid trap, he worried that he might very well end up as a casualty if his friends were a little too successful. The last shot broke the front wheels right off the Centaur the paladin was riding in. The armored transporter tipped to its side and slid across the dirt for a good five meters before finally stopping.
When the rooks recovered, Brand yelled for everyone to get out and secure the perimeter. "Go! Go! Or this car's gonna be our tomb! Move!"
Rush kicked and kicked at the mangled rear door, then scurried out on all fours with his rifle in hand. The others followed him, including Brand. They used the wrecks for cover as they prepared for enemy skirmishers to finish them off. The vehicles that remained, the five recon jeeps too nimble for the shooters to pick off, circled around to try and pick up the survivors. Brand's squad had taken casualties, two drivers with multiple shrapnel wounds and fractures, as did the other squads.
"Pig-Iron, we gotta get the wounded out of here." Rush informed him.
Playing his part well, Brand shook his head. "Can't risk moving them. The shooters got us pinned. What we need is an air-strike, flush 'em our burn 'em out. Only then can we evacuate the men."
"How? We got no idea where those shots came from!"
"We're rooks, we'll figure it out."
Being the senior officer left alive in that mess, Brand ordered the rooks to dismount from their jeeps and consolidate their position among the wrecks. In truth, Brand had no intention of leading them anywhere to gain any advantage over the mechs. They were trapped there, with him, just waiting for the Brotherhood ground team to come for them.
And so he waited, hoping that his true allies would hurry it up so he could help them take Riverside.
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Yeah, Brand looking kinda sus :P