Me: You know, Boone? A thought occurs.
Me: Ol' Foxie was kind enough to mark the location of Caesar's camp on my map, as well as the place where we could find a ferry that would lead us to it.
Me: I'm thinking it would be rude of us not to accept his invitation.
Me: Of course, I'm also thinking that I'm less than popular with The Legion right now.
Me: And probably less so now that we've killed their head spy and left him in his skivvies on the doorstep of The Tops casino.
Me: So really, the only reason we'd want to go there is if we had the intent of fighting our way through hordes of Legionaries for the sheer joy of slaughtering a bunch of fruity slave-trading weirdos in leather kilts.
Boone: ... don't make me beg.
Me: Just checking!
We traveled south and east, returning to the site of the camp where I first fought The Legion on their own turf. They had replenished their forces but they were no match for me and Boone. Neither was the pack of strange creatures - seemingly half snake and half wolf - that attacked a group of NCR rangers that happened by at that moment. We weren't able to save the rangers and barely survived ourselves. Still, we slept well on stolen Legion beds that night.
At daybreak we headed east, stumbling across another group of NCR troops heading south. We decided to follow them. Safety in numbers. Plus, I think it did Boone some good to be with young soldiers who held him in awe. But then again, who wouldn't?
Me: This plant looks suspect.
Boone: It's just Nevada Agave.
Me: Is that anything like Alaskan Thunderfuck?
Boone: Just leave it.
Me: I taut I taw tum Wegionaries!
Boone: You did. You did see some Legionaries.
Four Legion trainees vs. the six of us was hardly a fair fight. But then again, that never concerned the Legion, so we saw no reason to let it bother us either. It became even more unfair as another group of NCR soldiers showed up from the east.
First Sergeant Astor: Thanks for the help, but you have to turn back.
Me: What? Why? Looks like a perfectly nice town to the east.
First Sergeant Astor: Looks like. Legion got through our lines and set off a dirty nuke. The whole thing is irradiated. Everyone who didn't get killed has become a feral ghoul.
Me: Any suggestions on where to go?
First Sergeant Astor: Away from here. Back North toward Novac would be my suggestion.
I thanked the Sergeant for his suggestion, but Boone and I had business to the east. We did head north a ways though, skirting around the town boundaries and picking off a few ghouls that had somehow gotten through the new lines. We camped briefly at an abandoned mine then, climbing the mountains, we followed a gully downward and east, along an abandoned road to the east. At mid-day Boone stopped me...
Me: ... and?
Boone: I know you tend to prefer stealth and guile over firepower. So do I. Thing is... if I see Legion Red, I am going to shoot to kill. I want you to know this before we go in. In case that's a problem.
Me: You have to ask after all this time, together? Boone, the only problem I'd have with you killing Legion soldiers is you not wanting me to join in the fun. You don't mind do you?
We found two figures crucified on the road to the ferry camp. One was a woman who wasn't in much shape to talk. The other was apparently a drug dealer "convicted" by The Legion. I gave them what release I could, though the only thing I had to offer them was a quick death.
As I looked down the road and saw the first Legion scouts coming out to investigate the gunfire, I was surprised to hear Boone talking to himself behind me.
Boone: I've never prayed before. Haven't got the words for it. But I figure no one, not even you, will remember if we were good men or bad. Why we fought. Or why we died. All that matters is that two stood against many. That's what's important. Valor pleases you... so grant me one request. Grant me revenge! And if you do not listen? Then to HELL with you!
The battle which followed was fast and furious. Sadly, the camera captured little of the glory that came. Suffice it to say that many Legion soldiers were dead, three slaves were freed and we were flushing the cowering wretches out of their tents at the very end.
Boone: Figure we get on this raft, we ain't coming back. I'm fine with that. Are you?
Me: No. We're coming back, Boone. And we're coming back with Caesar's head on a spike.
We rowed across under the cover of darkness. The fortress entrance was heavily guarded but nothing we couldn't handle. As we went through the outer fortress, we found several female slaves weighed down with heavy packs as well as young boys in leather armor - miniature versions of the Legion's design. We left them behind, killing soldiers as we moved in to the inner fortress, closer to the stockade and Caesar's own tent.
I left Boone behind once we cleared the inner fortress. Whatever god of war he prayed to may have valued valor... but I've always preferred to put my trust in stealth, wits and high-powered explosives slipped into someone's pocket while they weren't looking. It proved to be my greatest challenge - slipping bombs into the pants of men who didn't wear pants... but somehow, I endured, sneaking into the tent of Caesar himself.
Sadly, all the stealth tech in the world is useless when you're in a tent with two dogs that can sniff you out. I ran for it, dropping landmines in my wake as I ran around the tent. I managed to scuttle up a cliff-face, staying up and above Caesar's personal guard as they charged me. Boldly, I jumped off the cliff behind me into a great cattle pen. I finished off one of the guard as I fired upward. As the rest of the troops ran around to the stockade gate to come after me, I scrambled back up the mountain-side, running back down the path, dropping the last of my mines as I grabbed the one plasma grenade I had saved for emergencies.
Me: BOONE! We have company incoming! Caesar himself.
Boone: *readying sniper rifle* Keep them off me.
Me: With what? I'm out of explosives and they're too close to...
Me: Of course! The Chainsaw of Justice!
A madness came over me then. It was not bloodlust, though the blood did fly about me. I found clarity, though I cannot say I truly thought. All I saw before me was a horde of slavers and murderers, charging upon me and the best man I had ever known. I charged them, chainsaw held before me. Their odd, sparking gauntlets did hit me but I felt no pain. I ran past them, pausing only to inject myself with the healing juice of a Stimpack, only to turn and charge them again.
Boone had fallen back to where only two could attack him. The Legion troops stumbled over themselves trying to get at him. And my blade stumbled over their flesh as I fought my way to him. I continue to charge and heal only to turn and charge again. Again and again until their numbers were even. And then I charged the last of them as Boone shot over my shoulder, spraying the bastard's brains across the wall.
When I came to, I was standing over what was left of Caesar and his personal guard.
I found out later that they had to create three new rankings of Hatred to describe how much the Legion hated me now.
Still, the camp was nearly cleansed of the vile influence of The Legion and their leader lay dead by Boone's hand. There were still some soldiers hiding in the corners of the camp but it would take little effort to finish them off now.
It was the best Thanksgiving ever.
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