[u][b]I-70 Brotherhood Border Post - outside Bethune, CO[/b][/u]

From the watchtower at the Border post, a small cluster of buildings beside and between the lanes of the old Interstate 70, two Brotherhood members watched the approach of the Legion. 

"Impressive, isn't it?", Paladin Kaminsky said as she scanned the massive column marching East down the Interstate with his binoculars. "Hasn't been a organized force this large in one place in our lands since the Mutant Wars....even Maneuvers doesn't involve more than a couple Brigades at a time."

"It is indeed, Sister", replied Knight Amanda, who commanded the Office of War Information field detachment sent to record this historic moment for posterity. "Twenty-five thousand men joining the fight against the Cult changes everything....it'll boost morale at home greatly to know they are not shouldering this burden alone."

"It certainly boosts mine", Kaminsky replied, "I was in the Brimstone Brigade's Mounted Infantry Regiment before I was selected to enter the Order...I fought alongside the Legion in the Mojave War from Albuquerque until we pushed the NCR back to their side of the Colorado. They're real soldiers...Lord Barnaky was wise to get them on our side."

"People had their doubts when the Lord-Paladin chose to intervene in the Mojave War", Amanda replied, "Caesar, the first one, Edward Sallow, had a mixed reputation to put it mildly. We had to stretch the truth somewhat to make the argument that the Legion's virtues outweighed the vices. Lucius's leadership style is far more....helpful in our work when it comes to educating the public." She then headed for the ladder and added, "they'll be here soon, need to get everything ready to shoot."

"Right behind you", Kaminsky replied, "I need to notify the Sappers at Burlington that our guests will be arriving there in about 3 hours."

[u][b]I-70 - about 20 minutes later[/b][/u]

The guard did his best to look natural as the rider approached. The rider wasn't why he was nervous...if they had been enemies the small post would have been overrun in minutes, after all...it was the cameras focused on him and the knowledge that his family back in Missouri, not to mention everybody in the Order's lands, were going to see him in the newsreels made from this film. The Legion officer looked like something out of a history book, a mailed knight astride a massive charger. He stopped just a few feet before him, and the rider's keen, piercing eyes transfixed him from above the chainmail hood covering his face. 

"Tell Lord Barnaky," the officer began, as his horse stamped the ground before him, "That the Legions of mighty Caesar have come. We march to the east, and to war."

"On behalf of the Lord-Paladin, and the Midwestern Order of the Brotherhood of Steel", the guard responded, as he gestured for the crossing gates to be opened, "We welcome our friends and allies of the Legion to our lands!".

Amanda grinned as the rider wheeled his horse and returned to the head of the column and it marched through the now open gates as the cameras rolled. As Kaminsky said, even though their equipment was somewhat primitive, their demeanor and discipline shone through..they indeed were [i]real[/i] soldiers, not some Tribal or Raider rabble. Once again, the wisdom of the Lord-Paladin's policies had been vindicated. 

[u][b]Burlington, Colorado[/b][/u]

The Sapper company, aware that the Legion force would be arriving in a few hours, raced to put the finishing touches on the campsite at the edge of town. Thankfully, the residents of Burlington had stepped up and were using their own wagons and vehicles to haul materials from the train parked at the siding in town to the site...it made things far easier. Expanding the site, used normally by the Barnaky Youth Corps for a summer camp, to accommodate 25,000 men for several weeks was a major undertaking. Going off plans provided by the advance Party the Legion had sent to make preparations, they had prepared the ground and then concentrated on ensuring proper drainage and sanitation, as well as adequate supplies of clean water, would be both ready and sited where they would be needed. Everything else would be done by the Legionnaires themselves, in the manner they were accustomed to, though materials sufficient to fortify the site would be pre-positioned to ease their workload. From here, they would deploy Eastward to a identical site being prepared in Danville, Illinois....the end of the line until the rail gangs could extend the rail net to their first stage objectives in Indiana. 


[u][b]Markle, Indiana - Police Station - 2:15 AM[/b][/u]

"Nice shooter", Slade said as he picked up the battered AER-9 laser rifle from the pile of belongings and damaged electronics on the table before him and examined it, "even if it is beat to shit." He then continued. "So, where did you find this fucktard?"

"Down by Mt Zion, Boss", Luke said, "we were collecting the "insurance" payment from the squares there, when he practically dropped into our lap. He put up a fight, but we got to him before he could get into his suit so it wasn't long before we got a collar on him."

"You lost five boys, right?", Slade replied, "Heck of a fight, i'd say."

"He only shot two", Luke said, his face turning red with anger at the memory, "The other three he got with the bomb. Shithead triggered some kind of time-bomb in the airplane and didn't tell us. That cost me three good boys I had stripping the fucking thing when it went off. Boys tried to beat him to death on the spot for that...had a hell of a time stopping them before they could fuck him up too bad."

"Why did you?", Slade sneered. "Gone soft or something?"

"If he hadn't been Brotherhood, I'd have shoved a sign post up his ass and planted him alongside the road to die", Luke retorted hotly, "But I figured you, and the Big Boss in Ft Wayne would want him alive and able to talk!"   

"Fair enough", Slade replied, it only then occurring to him that the Big Boss would reward him greatly for handing over a live Brotherhood soldier, especially if he kept Frank and that bitch Peg out of it. "Just fucking with you."

"OK", Luke replied shortly, deciding it was better to accept the excuse than to press the point with his dangerously unstable boss, "No harm, no foul."
    
"Lighten up", Slade said affably, for him, and slapped Luke on the back", I'll make good your losses...you did good!" He then continued. "One thing, though....don't tell Frank or that c..."

Slade was interrupted as a Raider burst in through the front door of the station. 

"Boss!", the Raider shouted upon recognizing Slade, "we've got a problem in the barracks! A full blown gunfight has broken out inside, and the power is out on that whole block!"

"Fuck!", Slade bellowed, "That bitch Peg is making her move, I just know it!" He whirled to face Luke, and jabbed a finger into his chest. "You stay here and watch the fucktard...everyone else, with me!" 

Slade, followed by the other Raiders, stormed out and headed for their gang's barracks in the old City Hall. 

Luke paced around anxiously, making sure he was actually alone in the small building...aside form the prisoners...and wondered what was actually happening. Having pledged his support to Peg some time ago, enticed by her offers...not to mention her bed...he knew full well she wasn't behind whatever was happening, because the time wasn't right, yet. She needed Slade to fuck up bad enough to give her a pretext to take him out.  

He went to the back to check on the prisoners in the old cells....not noting the front door quietly open, and then close again. Entering the lockup, there were four cells, three occupied. One cell contained two male Wastelanders, and another a single female. All three had been taken from local settlments as payment in kind for "insurance" as they didn't have enough caps or food to make the payment. they would be sent to Ft Wayne as tribute, to be sold at the Slave auction or disposed of as the Big Boss saw fit. the fourth was a grizzled figure, wearing a tight fitting black jumpsuit, who looked like he had been knocked around a bit, though not seriously. He glared daggers at Luke. 

"Like your new home, Brotherhood bitch?", Luke sneered, "Well don't get used to it....we'll be taking you to Ft Wayne soon enough, the Big Boss will no doubt have some questions for you. By the time he gets down with you, you'll wish I'd let the boys finish you."

He had hoped to put a scare into the man, or at least get a reaction...but the way he responded was completely unexpected. Rather than fear, or anger, or false bravado, his eyes opened wide like he was suprised, and then he smiled a terrible smile. Worse, the other three prisoners began to react themselves, and the hairs on the back of his neck began to stand on end. He turned around to find himself staring into the emitter of the Brotherhood soldier's laser rifle, pointed straight at his face. Before he could react, the rifle fired, causing his now superheated brains to erupt out of the back of his head. Dead where he stood, Luke crumpled to the floor.

The Assaultron, stealth field off so the Brotherhood logo, and the name "Murphy, A.J.", neatly painted on it's chest was clearly visible, slowly lowered the laser rifle it had been holding out with one hand, and looked around for the cell controls, as the three Wastelanders clamored to be let out. spotting the controls, it casually threw the lever for all cells and all four doors crashed open. 

"You three", the Assaultron said with a male voice that did not sound in the least bit synthetic, "go up front and arm yourselves but don't leave the building until I say so, if you want to live to see the sun rise....it's not safe for you to make a run for it yet. " It then looked at the Brotherhood prisoner and added, "Stay here for a moment, Brother."

After the Wastelanders scurried out as instructed, the Assaultron spoke again. 

"You do not appear in our Codex, Brother", the Assaultron said, "Who are you?" it then added, "The short version, please...we have maybe fifteen minutes before the shit hits the fan here."