Fandom Fallout New Vegas- A New Legion Rises

[ManofManyRoles]

The Mojave wasteland, home of the glittering jewel of humanity known as New Vegas. The midday sun hung high in the sky, scorching the earth below it without care or mercy, an indifferent lord who cared not for anyones comfort. Through all of the Mojave however, there was a reprieve, a golden voice that played regularly between musical numbers...Radio New Vegas and it's host, Mister New Vegas. Wherever the radio could be heard, it's owners voice could be surely be heard as well. "Welcome back to the Mr. New vegas show, the show with, in my opinion- which I respect- the best-looking audience around. Somebody prove me wrong. Whoops, better put on my newsman fedora, here. Today is the fifth anniversary of the NCR's victory of the second battle of the hoover dam, thanks to the help of New Vegas very own courier. Raise a toast of a cold Sunset Sarsparilla to them for all their help. One more story for you. It appears the resurrected Legion, now named Bellona's Legion, has raided another caravan, and there are no survivors. That's all for now. This is Mr. New Vegas saying, I'm just no good without you. Got some Dean Martin coming up, talking about the greatest feeling in the world, love. "Ain't That A Kick in the Head." Sure is, Dino. It sure is." The radio hosts came to a close as the song opened up, a pleasant escape from reality.

Across the Mojave, as sweet melodies could be heard on radio, things were more dangerous than the song by the 'King of Cool' may lead one to believe. Somewhere in Quarry Junction, some poor bastard was being mauled to death by Deathclaws that had once again moved in. The NCR ran patrols across the Mojave as a whole, stepping up their presence with the rise of Bellona's legion, and somewhere, one of those patrols would be under attack. In Primm, Sherrif Primm Slim had just apprehended a jet dealer, keeping his perfect record as always. Across the Colorado River, the new legions Warrior women ran drills and disciplined their cannon fodder male slaves, drilling obedience and pain tolerance into them by whatever means necessary. And in Camp Mccarran, NCR were training recruits and soldiers alike, keeping their capabilities sharp and drilling discipline into them. A storm was brewing on the horizon of the Mojave, and when it finally hit, it would be another battle that would dictate the future of the Mojave.


ChazGhost Boombox TheEmperor Osuka Blanche Rusty of Shackleford​

 

[Osuka]

Ivan Timurovich-Gardner

Fuck, was it hot out, and neither his canteen nor the sound of Dean Martin was making it any easier thanks to the weight and stifling layers of his armor. In fact, if it wasn't for the fact that he had to wear it, he'd probably be tearing it off of himself at the moment. Ever since Bellona's legion took over Caesar's bullshit, their patrols have been more frequent, too. Fuck the whole Nuclear Winter thing - he wanted a glacier ice age, or at least some shade for once! Ivan's hands let go of his assault carbine so it could hang on its sling while he yanked his canteen from its home on his hip and took a swig. The shit was already warm, too, and it was enough for him to shove it right back where it was before.

Several years living in this god-forsaken heat and no relief from it in sight. You'd think he'd get used to it by now, but no. The scorching heat of the Mojave wasn't something you just got used to. A person's body wasn't evolved enough to handle the temperatures here, so it was a wonder that anyone - even himself, still lived here. Well.... Unless you were a Ghoul or Jim Gardner. That guy could probably tank a mini-nuke and laugh like it tickled....

"Note to self - ask Jim about Mini-nukes," he said to himself as he took the carbine hanging from his rig back into his grip. "And do something about this fucking armor."

The six-foot-five Russian looked around at his surroundings, deep azures a glinting jewel in the light of day which hung over a chiseled nose and high cheekbones. Thin lips parted to breathe in the dry, arid heat of the Mojave and exhale just a little bit of his irritation about the weather for the millionth time this month, and large, gloved hands went through the motions of checking over his weapon. The Assault Carbine worked something similar to standard American military weapons - pull the bolt back on the back in order to peek the chamber, then let it slip forward after ensuring it was loaded. The safety was located just above his left thumb, which he made sure was on burst (which was a personal habit of his), then check the mag to make sure it was full before sliding it home and tapping it so that it clicked into a secure position. Letting it go, he did much the same with his .45. Peek the chamber, check the safety (which he kept off since it was secure enough that he didn't have to worry about a negligent discharge), check the mag, then holster it.

"Jim," he called out, looking over his shoulder. "Seriously, when are we done with this shit? I'm all about saving lives, but it's gonna be annoying to do so when we're cooking in these tin cans, man."

Even nowadays, there was still a hint of a Russian accent from his childhood that he just couldn't shake off. Sometimes it made him funnier, sometimes scarier, but it always made him different, though different was perfectly fine. Someone had to be, and someone had to use it, so it was going to be him if they needed to step on toes for the sake of making things easier.

ManofManyRoles

 

[ChazGhost]

Maxwell Danger
"Ain't that a kicked alright," said a ghoul to himself with a portable radio as he walked down the road. The ghoul wore a sunhat with a colorful Hawaiian shirt, a grey-blue overcoat in decent condition, grey-blue pants with a leather belt, a rope necklace with that went through a couple of bottle caps, and black boots that had seen better days. The ghouls also had a backpack on his back and holster with a handgun at his side.

"Those guys couldn't prove that dice were rigged and they know it." The ghoul said with a sigh before pulling out a sunset sasparilla from his bag and opening it up. "I mean I did but they couldn't prove it... Well doesn't matter. I'll just head down this road a few miles and not too long I'll get to what remains of that hermit's place from when this mess first started. I wonder if anyone was able to survive his traps and get the stuff or not over the years" the ghouls said before sipping his drink. "Well guess I'll figure it out when I get there"

 

[Specialist]

Location: Strip Embassy

Interaction: N/A​

Despite not needing to, it was hard pretending to sleep.

The Android opened her eyes; the HUD quickly powering on to illuminate her vision in the low-lit, dark corner of the Embassy's barracks room. Pushing herself upright in a mechanically smooth fashion, the woman known to herself as Cybil got up from the faded, worn bedspring mattress as she immediately walked toward the steel locker on the opposite side of the bunk column- pulling the door open with a vile screech of rusted metal that didn't seem to phase her as it did the grumbling soldiers behind her. Assembling herself from her sleepwear into her uniform was one of the few significant rituals she enjoyed doing; finding it to be almost a cathartic experience that served to remind her what her life was in the present moment, compared to what it certainly could have been. Retrieving her weapons and securing them to herself, she grabbed her helmet and tucked it under her left arm as she headed out of the barracks and out of the Embassy. It didn't matter if she had her helmet on or not; her wireless receiver would intercept any BLUFOR communications and relay them accordingly should she be contacted. Pushing past the door and stepping to the outside, she was immediately greeted to a pleasant morning sunrise and crisp, fresh air. Well, as 'crisp' as it got, anyway. She scanned the road leading from the rest of the Strip into Freeside; content to at least not see a band of roving drunk soldiers staggering along the sidewalk. She couldn't imagine the conditions- why anyone would choose to voluntarily ingest poison to get an intoxicating effect. Compared to the hectic chaos of marshaling last night's troop of drunk soldiers, this was a refreshing sight. She knew it wouldn't be like this in the late evening.

For the moment, it seemed orders were off the table as she moved to lean up against the wall to the Embassy's front door; drowning out that Dean Martin's song for the one-hundred and sixty-seventh time since her arrival into the Mojave. Despite her inactive stance, Cybil was certainly prepared to re-direct the hungover citizen or occasionally awe-stricken trooper. Regardless, it was time to let the world know of her status by taking her index and middle finger up to the rightmost side of her helmet, pressing down onto a small button as she spoke into it calmly, and almost emotionlessly. Ranger Cybil here; online and ready for tasking, over."

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Jim Gardner
The heat wasn't so bad for him, he'd gotten to use to it long ago. Jim was currently humming along to the smooth vocals of Dean, his ancient pipboy tuned to the radio and letting the music fill the Mojave air around him as he stood in place, foot propped up on a desert rock about waist height. The six-foot vet surveyed the empty desert around them, arm resting atop his knee. "Kid, don't complain too much. Look at it this way. You're on patrol, you're moving. Which means your doing something to keep your mind occupied. If you prefer, we can leave you behind next time, and you can tell me just how interesting staring at a wall in this heat can be." He turned his head to look at Ivan, shrugging a bit. "Patrol is just how it's gotta be for now, with a new Legion prowling around we never know what's going to happen." As he spoke he reached towards a hip holster, Sequoia clearing leather as he pointed at Ivan and fired. The bullet soared through the air, doming a gecko mid-leap for Ivan. "You know, that's the second time today. You wear that special perfume those gecko's love so much?"

Popping the revolver chamber he calmly loaded in a new round before stowing the gun, starting forward and slapping a hand on the young man's shoulder. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not in a tin can. You're in Khaki uniform and a breastplate. There, don't you feel much better now?" He gave a dry smokers laugh before starting forward with a motion of 'on me' with his hand. "There's been reports of Bellona women in the locale, and if they're still nearby, we have to either kill them, take them alive, or scare them off...But y'know, if the last legion was any indication, you have better luck of seducing a death claw than taking a legionnaire alive." Pulling the large sniper off his back he pulled it in front of him, peering through the scope at the endless desert sands. "You know, that reminds me of someone I once knew..." And with a single sentence, Jim had just prepared for the one-two punch with one of his infamous stories unless he got shut down.
Osuka​

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Marcie Kinray Blackwood​

Like any other day in the wasteland, Marcie walked just a bit off one of the main roads, a smaller brahmin following her closely. Every noise that didn't sound like the light tapping of feet on the hard ground made its ears move and it's head make the slightest of tilts. It was clear that the young animal was skittish, but if given the chance to grow, it will learn that noises of the waste and become calmer with age. Marcie occasionally stopped to pat the young brahmin's head with her gloved hand, occasionally pulling out a piece of maize for it to gnaw on as encouragement as the two continued down the road.

It seemed decently quiet for the last bit of the trip, which wasn't strange by any sense but in the area they were in, the sound of guns firing would calm her nerves more than the overwhelming silence. If raiders had larger problems to deal with there was less of a chance of someone watching her and her brahmin. she had already lost too many loyal brahmins in the wastes, her companion's mother was one of them. The poor old girl didn't stand a chance when the raiders jumped her while she drank at the last stop they had made. The thought made Marcie's blood boil, but she took some deep breaths through her gas mask. No use drawing on the situation now. The ignorant fools who killed her brahmin already got what they deserved. A painful death with no remorse.

Open for interaction ​

 

[ChazGhost]

Maxwell Danger

"...My life is going to be beautiful..." Maxwell said singing to himself as the song on the radio neared its end. As it did Maxwell took a glance around and noticed another traveler. "Huh, another wander... And one with brahmin. Well, I have some spare caps from winnings. Maybe they have something good for trade... Let's just hope their ghoul friendly." Maxwell said to himself.

Maxwell then went off the road to try to meet up with fellow the traveler midway. "Hey Buddy, you friendly?!" Maxwell called out with one hand near his gun if the traveler wasn't friendly. "If you are, are you a merchant?!... Also willing to sell to ghouls?!" Maxwell added for additional confirmation.

Angelofwishes7

 

[Yuri Greythorn]

Destiny Hancock

Destiny was walking along the wasteland, she was thinking to herself, she was walking in normal clothes, so nobody would figure she was in the New legion, all she wanted was to avenge her father, to finally feel at peace, her mind was swirling with ideas on how to do it, but there still wasn't many people in the Legion, so she'd have to lay low until there was more, maybe scouting out a few NCR leaders for her faction, anything at this point would be useful for them, as ever since Caesar's death, the legion's been all over the place.

Suddenly she noticed a gang of golden geckos running towards her, and pulled out her blade and pistol, as they got close,blew off their heads, and sliced them up, before skinning them​

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Strip Embassy
Outside of the embassy, the usual sights were on display. Vault 21 was across the way, and the large sign declaring the location of Michael Angelo's workshop next to that. Day drunks stumbled around outside, most of them either leaving or heading to vault 21. Securitron Mk2's rolled around as well, far more numerous in New Vegas since the Courier had taken over...in fact the Courier had a literal army of them, as was shown at the battle of Hoover Dam. Where he kept all of them, no one knew, but the ones that roved the strip were only a small portion of what could be seen. Mechanical marvels, with enough firepower and defense to be a threat to anything that would pose a threat to the jewel of the Mojave.

One of the day drunks tossed a rock at a Securitron, causing it to start to wheel forward. "Harassing strip security is prohibited, citizen. A fine will be charged." The day drunk could be heard shouting an obscenity, only to be held back by a somewhat sober friend. All in all? Completely routine day. After a moment, a familiar voice could be heard by Cybil, coming in over her comms. "Ranger Cybil, good to see that you're awake. You always announce it in such a strange fashion, but I suppose it livens up the day!" The noise was, of course, the head of the strip embassy, Dennis Crocker. In spite of his success in getting the NCR to ally with New Vegas, he had been passed over for a promotion for the sheer fact he didn't get the NCR New Vegas. "If at all possible, I'd like to request you run a sweep through freeside? The kings are reporting that gangs are getting more bolt in the area, and we'd like to see what's going on. Usually the Kings have it all under control, but the gangs are frankly better armed than they should be, and the Securitrons only patrol so much of freeside."
Specialist​

 

[Specialist]

Location: Strip Embassy > North Freeside

Interaction: ManofManyRoles​

Cybil listened intently, her gaze fixated on the disruptive drunkard as more of a background sight for the moment. When Crocker's rather chipper tone finished chirping through her helmet, she swiftly responded as she pushed herself up off the Embassy wall and began in a smooth stride toward the Freeside gates with a curt quip. "Acknowledged, Ambassador Crocker. En-route to Freeside, over." She had her orders, and it was such that she'd see to them quickly. While effective, the Securitrons did have their pathing limitations- she internally speculated that they were tethered by some sort of autonomous signal that limited their mobility and whatnot. As the gate's sensor sensed the approaching android, the motor kicked into swing; pulling the gate open and toward Cybil's left as the area was revealed. The Securitrons at the gate turned around, and only took a one-second glance at the Ranger before wheeling back to resume their duties. Cybil kept her comms channel open in case she'd hear any more from Crocker, but the mention of increased, organized activity beyond the occasional hostile squatter had her lightly alarmed. The Kings were well organized, well trained as the de-facto mediators of unofficially peacekeeping their section of Freeside, so long as nobody fucked with them.

Cybil strode further out past the gates, and ensuring she left a respectable distance between herself and the gate Securitrons, she moved to pull her customized AK47 upward and off from her chest from the rifle strap; resting the assault rifle in her hands as if she were cradling a child. Thumbing off the safety, Cybil lowered the rifle's barrel to point downward and toward the left side of the street. Now her eyes were leveled with the horizon of Freeside's littered, boarded-up buildings lining a cracked sidewalk and stretched of equally devastated roadway. She couldn't afford to take her hand anywhere off the rifle in an area like this, so instead she spoke aloud; her wireless receiver tapping into the Embassy's radio grid as she spoke to the Ambassador. "Ambassador, Sir. I've just exited the Northern Gate and am in Freeside- should I check in with The Kings for further intel, or just proceed with the sweep?" As she waitde for a reply, she walked further toward the School of Impersonation, with her stride slowing to a smooth walk as she kept her head on a swivel to survey the area for any sudden threats.

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Marcie Kinray Blackwood


​

Marcie froze to the sight of a ghoul walking toward her. Out of habit, she reached to her side, placing her hand on her pipe revolver, much like any wanderer she was cautious of anyone she met in the wastes. It was not uncommon to see a supposedly friendly face turn dangerous out here. As the approaching ghoul spoke asking if she was friendly Marcie calmed some, moving her gloved hand from her revolver to the head of her brahmin, giving a reassuring pat on its head. "I'm friendly as long as you are," She paused noticing how her brahmin took a step back as the traveler got closer. It's young age and the recent death of its mother had it still on edge with anyone new. She gave a pull on its lead, holding it in place and stopping it from backing up further as she went to its side, grabbing some more maze form one of the bags it held for it to graze on before bringing her eyes back to the traveler. "Yes, and yes I will sell to you. I have nothing against ghouls. Are you looking for anything in particular?"

ChazGhost​

 

[ChazGhost]

Maxwell Danger

"Good to hear," Maxwell said moving his hand away from his weapon and into his pockets. As he got closer he looked over the merchant and there brahmin. "Some extra ammo and refill on my food supplies would nice. And if you have anything special on sale, I may like to have a look at it" Maxwell said pulling a cigar from his pocket, followed by a lighter to light it. "You animal seemed a bit skittish for a creature of the wastes. Still breaking it in?" Maxwell asked to be friendly in hope of possibly getting a bet deal on the ammo and food.

Angelofwishes7

 

[Jagson]

Joseph took a sip of his purified water as he watched the wastelands from ontop of the Primm rollercoaster. He took another sip before raising his riffle and looking threw the Ironside as he watches a gecko run by. "What do you think." He said. "You want gecko tonight?" He asked before turning his head to look at a a puppy with black fur and some brown patches. It looked back at him.
"Your right." He said. "Geckos do give us gas."

He petted the pup's head. He shifted a little bit and felt a sharp pain in his side. The Jet dealer was able to get a lucky hit in before being arrested. "I guess we should get into town and do some patrolling." He said only for the pup to yip it's approval. "Good boy." He said as he stood up and got off the coaster. He put his riffle in a safe place before walking into the town with the little pup beside him.

 

[ManofManyRoles]

The wastes, near New Vegas
The wastes weren't exactly a vacation spot, and skinned golden gecko corpses didn't exactly add value to that fact. After a moment it became increasingly apparent that the gecko's had been running from something rather than towards the centurion in disguise. The sound of something flying forward, and as it grew closer it became a noise that anyone who lived in the Mojave had learned to dread and fear...cazadors. Cresting a hill in the distance a group of four could be seen, all apparently having been hunting the gecko's. As they zipped down the hill towards the young woman, the sound of gunfire could be heard as well. "EY YOU! ARE YOU INSANE? GET BACK HERE!" Coming up behind her was a pair of caravan guards, seemingly sent ahead to scout path for a caravan towards new vegas. Cowboy repeaters fired, doing their best to deter the cazadors though it was becoming increasingly obvious that wasn't going to work for long.
Yuri Greythorn

Strip Embassy
The trip on through to freeside wasn't much to talk about or consider. People still milled about in small hordes on the new vegas side, and on the free side was...a completely different matter. The Securitrons disregarded her in entirety, save for the fact one played an automated message as she walked past. "Always a pleasure to have you." Freeside was marked with homeless and destitute, a few young men over in a corner high as a kite on jet mumbling to themselves, a couple children running around in raggedy clothes and playing, and a duo of king members shooting the breeze with each other as they leaned on the wall of the King's School of Impersonation. As she opened a line to Crocker again there was a beat of silence before he spoke, chipper and cool as ever.

"If possible, try to speak with the Kings. I don't flatter either of us to assume you'd speak with the man himself. Just ask around if you can, any information you can get together is valuable. And keep your head on a swivel of course ranger, even a vet isn't immune to a bullet in the back...and it appears there's more than a few of those happening lately." The line cut to silence, one of the King members against the wall taking note of Cybil as she approached, raising a hand in greeting. "Well damn, if it isn't one of those NCR folks! You looking for directions pal, or you have something you need to talk about?" After the Courier 'liberated' New Vegas and formed an alliance with the NCR, The Kings and the NCR had been less at each others throats than before, to the point NCR refugees were welcomed in more open arms than they would have been in New Vegas proper. To say that the situation between The Kings and the NCR was 'warm' was being kind...it was agreeable, but spats still happened.
Specialist
Primm
Walking into town was likely a welcome sight, Primm on far better times since the Courier was able to take over. People milled around on the street, no longer victim to powder ganger threats or Legion threats (for now). Primm wasn't perfect, but it was back to routine, ups and downs as it should be. Slowly moving through the settlement was the Sherrif, Primm Slim, dusty rusty chassis moving through the crowds of people. Spotting Joseph the robot's voice cut in as it headed for him. "Howdy Pardner! It's always good to see my favorite deputy! Thank you kindly for catching that dealer earlier, he'll be safe behind bars in the sheriff's office while he thinks about the crime! Why don't you head-on into the casino to get some grub? I'll take over patrol for now!"
Jagson ​

 

[Jagson]

Joseph almost walked right into the robot sheriff. He liked the robot though he would never tell it his past. Last thing he needs is for his sheriff to turn him in to the NCR.

He nodded. "Yes sir." He said nodding his head and heading off. He quickly made it to the casino and ordered a Brahmin steak and a sunset sasperilla. He was splurging he knew but it was a long week.
Once his order was placed he walked to the back of the dining area and took a seat in an area that allowed him to see everything. He looked down at his pup and pet his head before looking around the area.
His eyes lingered on a couple of women talking. He thought about maybe going over there trying to start a normal relationship but chose not to. He was never really good with people. He always did gravitate towards dogs.

 

[Yuri Greythorn]

Destiny Simply sighed as the Caravan guards approached, and started to shoot at the cazadors, her eyes trained on them, ready to be as fast as she can, so she doesn't get severely poisoned, she wanted to act casual, before attempting to assassinate them, she was part of the new legion after all, the NCR didn't need all of these resources, the Legion needed them more, considering the NCR are pretty much the largest army in the world nowadays.
After a moment, she realized they weren't going down as easily as she thought, so she started to back up as she got out her LMG, and opened fire mercilessly on the damn poisonous bugs.
Interactions: ManofManyRoles​

 

[Specialist]

Location: Strip Embassy > North Freeside

Interaction: ManofManyRoles
​

Before she could reply, the Ranger had already made it to the first member of the Kings she saw- and cut the channel with Crocker as not to speak on open comms. "Greetings- I have wanted to inquire on [SUBSTITUTE! Alternative choice of words advised.] come to ask you about the recent activity here. Your dominion [faction(?)] organization reported suspicious activity along the lines of increased gangs around Freeside. Being better equipped and armored. Do you know anything about it? Locations, patrol sizes?" Cybil finished her questions; scrubbing the loose HUD elements from the surface of her retina with a quick blink. It was strange, how the process seemed almost second nature- now something other than herself seemed to be advising her along the way. Perhaps it was just leftover autonomous processes that didn't get wiped. Regardless, it was fluid enough to allow her to provide real-time editing of her speech without awkward pauses or gaps.

 

[Angelofwishes7]

Marcie Kinray Blackwood


​

Listening to the ghoul's words, Marcie gave him a nod in response. "Can do. We can see if I have anything you like." While she spoke, Marcie went over to the opposite side of the brahmin and opened a bag, pulling out and showing off some of her food supply. Among the items were Gecko steaks, coyote steaks, Brahmin meat, potatoes, carrots, apples, potato crisps, and a few boxes of sugar bombs. Six bottles of clean water sat beside the food, Upon closer inspection, everything looked to be surprisingly well wrapped in animal leather or paper.

"I have ammo for pretty much any common wasteland weapon, .357 magnum, 9mm, 10mm, 12 gauge, to name a few. I don't have much in terms of explosives or energy weapons at the moment though. Besides junk or knick-knack, I have no deals or sales going on. Most of my items on hand at the moment are weapons or weapon mods and I'm not looking to letting em go for cheaper than their worth." Bringing her attention to the brahmin, she placed her hand along its head, petting it gently before speaking up again. "Its mother died early this morning. Raiders."

ChazGhost​

 

[ChazGhost]

Maxwell Danger

Maxwell looked over the food and bullets for a moment. "I'll take some sugar bombs and Gecko steaks. And some .22 round" Maxwell said after thinking over his choices. "Just today? Sorry to hear. The bastard getaway or did you or someone else take them out?" Maxwell asked said after shaking his head momentarily. Maxwell then thought for a moment about how before the war he'd never hear about bandits attack and raiding people like this, but the thought end as thoughts of the old world always ended. The world has gone to hell.

Angelofwishes7

 

[Osuka]

Ivan Timurovich

There was something to be said about the level of trust Ivan had when Gardner pulled his Sequoia and fired. Not once did he even blink or flinch when he saw the barrel leveled in his direction, and when it went off, he didn't expect even for a moment for all the lights to suddenly go out. Instead, he looked behind him and gave an impressed nod and brow raise before he even entertained everything the Ghoul had said before and after. A shift of his ruck, which had held a sizable percentage of the patrol's gear, and a step towards their patrol leader later, and Ivan was in his own train of thought.

Bellona's Legion was most definitely a problem. What with the rumors that had been spun, as well as evidence of sightings and the likelihood of skirmishes to break out, the NCR had been scrambling to ensure that they could keep control of the area. Larger sweeps with larger forces (sometimes), supply routes being more closely scrutinized and locked down, and a plethora of other plans had been put into motion just to ensure that they weren't going to be caught off-guard, but... He'd be lying if he said he hadn't heard and felt the morale at base go down the hill. Things were peaceful for a while, and the most they had to deal with were scuffs at best, but a revived Legion was something that most weren't mentally ready to deal with, and that was more important than the physical aspect.

It was enough that, for the first time in a while, he was going to say something that was rare for him.

"Jim," he started, checking over his gear again. "While I do want to hear the story, it's probably best we keep on task - and that also notes my prior bitching, since you brought up Legion activity. I'm not sure some of our forces are going to be willing to fire on slaves given their position if it comes down to it, and that could only end up bad for our side. Don't get me wrong, either: I love having the chance to be able to save lives and keep peace, but even I don't know if I could shoot a man who fights against his own free will, and I don't think the blunt approach of this all is going to be gainfully effective. Shouldn't NCR be running more Subterfuge against Legion forces than what has been reported post-completion?"

ManofManyRoles