“I’m gettin pretty sick and tired of all these people gettin in our way,” Janey remarked, thumbs stuck securely in her belt loops.
Twilight growled irritably.
“I ain't complainin about yer bleedin heart this time,” Janey retorted. “We ended up gettin some caps from all your offers of help, which we needed, may I remind you.”
Twilight ignored her human companion and tromped up the cratered highway towards the town of Nipton. Though not very large, the settlement had at least a ramshackle wall surrounding it. A mix of nine-foot-tall chain link fences battered pre-war trailers, and tipped-over old cars would at least keep out the wildlife. Without a gate though Twilight doubted it would be able to repel any serious attack or even a particularly large band of raiders.
“I’m just gettin kinda irritated that it always seems like one thing after another and we ain't even halfway there yet,” Janey continued.
Twilight stopped and raised a hand.
“What is it?” Janey inquired, her hand immediately going to her gun.
Twilight sniffed several times, only for her nose to crinkle up in disgust when she smelled something vaguely familiar. The scent of something burning was easily recognizable, but it was accompanied by a far-fouler odor she couldn't quite describe. It was akin to the meet she had eaten that morning but different, and unsettling for a reason she couldn't quite place.
“Incoming,” Janey whispered.
Twilight looked up to where a madly grinning man dressed like a powder ganger was walking directly at them. Even when his gaze landed on Twilight the male didn't hesitate, and his enormous grin never wavered. In his eyes was a madness that Twilight had only ever seen glimpses of, and never in such a quantity as now.
The male appeared unarmed though, carrying nothing with him, and having only the striped prison shirt on his back. His pants were in a similar state of wear and disrepair which mirrored the half-broken glasses resting lopsided on his nose. Twilight could tell the guy’s white skin was on the verge of cracking under the intense heat but he evidently hadn't gotten the memo.
“Yeah! Who won the lottery? I did!” he shouted, raising his arms above his head. “Smell that air! Couldn't ya just drink it like booze!”
“Woah, hold it there mister,” Janey retorted, a hand going to her revolver. “Not another step.”
The powder ganger didn't seem to hear her and just kept walking while laughing madly.
“Yer lookin at the luckiest man in the Mojave lady!” he declared.
Twilight held up a hand and made a calming gesture toward the courier.
Janey grunted, but reluctantly released the hold she had on her weapon. “Are you feeling alright there bud?” called the courier.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He scoffed. “I’ve never felt better in my life!”
Twilight pointed down to the strange paper stub sticking out of the man’s grip.
“You say you won a lottery, what kind of lottery?” Janey pressed.
“What lottery? THE lottery, that's what lottery! Are you stupid?” he scoffed as if the answer was the most obvious thing in the world. “Only lottery that matters! Oh my god, would you smell that air!”
Twilight and Janey exchanged a worried look.
“Uh, are you a powder ganger?” Janey pressed.
“Huh, what? Powder ganger? Oh yeah I mean, I used to be, sure!” replied the man. “But not no more! The powder gangers are small-time, man! I’m a winner! I won the motherfucking lott-er-y!”
“How much chems did you take, man?” Janey asked incredulously.
The man scoffed. “I’m high on life baby, and soon I’m gonna be rollin in it! With luck like mine man, I wouldn't be surprised if I’ve taken over the whole strip by next week. See you bitches later!”
He then walked directly between the courier and the deathclaw and just kept going, whistling loudly to himself. The pair watched him go for several seconds before turning to one another and exchanging an awkward shrug.
“Before you ask, no that's not common in the wasteland,” Janey exclaimed.
Twilight chuckled, though her mirth only lasted until they reached the top of the hill and were able to gaze upon Nipton directly.
“What in the hell?” Janey muttered.
Twilight's gaze immediately latched onto the two large battle standards sitting on either side of the road. Bearing an image of a golden bull on a red background, they were also accompanied by burning tires and signs of conflict. The occasional splotch of blood could be seen scattered across the broken pavement, though there weren't any bodies visible.
“The legion, this far south? Impossible,” Janey whispered.
It was then that Twilight recognized that smell for what it was. A lot of people had just been killed, and nearby as well. That was the assumption at least until Twilight was able to pick up the distinct sound of someone in pain nearby.
“Ahh fuck, the NCR is gonna piss themselves when they hear about this,” Janey remarked. “Right, let’s uh scope the place out and get back to Ghost.”
Twilight didn't hear her friend’s words and was walking down the road which bisected the main town area from the trailer park. What old prewar buildings still stood had been maintained at least halfheartedly by the townspeople. Those that were no longer in one piece were in their current state due to time and neglect, or the cruel hand of an arsonist.
Whoever had started the tire fires had also taken the torch to a few of the homes located in the settlement. The general store which stood on the crossroad between the town’s main street and the highway was perfectly preserved, however. Though Twilight heard what sounded like someone shifting around inside the structure, she ignored the noise for a moment.
“What are you doing? Hang back while I scout things out,” hissed Janey in a low tone.
Twilight once again ignored her and continued down to Nipton’s main road. There she beheld horrors that she had never once imagined even in her darkest of dreams. On the sides of that broken street, she located the source of the faint painful moaning and stench of death.
Dozens of people hung limply, lashed or nailed to crosses, and left to suffer in the cruel Mojave sun. Some bore bruises and signs of being beaten while others had been stabbed or even shot. Those were the lucky ones, however, as there were crosses that bore corpses, and even the half-skeletalized remains of a human being.
Between those who still lived stared the empty eyes of nearly thirty dead people. Their heads had been removed and placed upon pikes angled so that they gazed up at those who yet drew breath. Burning tires illuminated the land when a rare cloud passed overhead, casting the world in a brief shadow.
Twilight hadn't even been aware that she had kept walking until she suddenly found herself a dozen feet from the steps of the town hall. Tall, imperious, and nearly four stories, the building would have been impressive back in its day. Now though, now its windows were boarded up and the proud flag that had stood atop its peak had been replaced by the banner of the legion.
The creek of a door opening drew Twilight's attention down to where a grinning man wearing thick black goggles and a dog’s head atop his own emerged. Behind him strode over a dozen legion soldiers, each one outfitted in the ramshackle armor that their leader wore. Made from padded sections intended to protect an athlete during some contact sport, they had been painted in the legion’s colors of red and gold.
Their weapons weren't in much better condition either and mainly consisted of makeshift machetes or pistols. Despite the less then excellent state of their arms and armor, none of the legion soldiers flinched under Twilight's gaze. In fact, they seem to be emboldened by the deathclaw’s presence, none more so than the man wearing the head of a dog upon his brow.
“Don't worry, I won't have you lashed to a cross like the rest of these degenerates. I doubt I’d have a big enough cross anyway,” began the man, smiling a bit at his own comment. “No, It's useful that my scouts spotted you on the road.”
Twilight recalled the feeling of eyes on her earlier, and how it had never really gone away even after she had found the trader.
“You see I’ve heard of you, princess, and your pet courier,” exclaimed the man. “I’ve heard of your generous nature and apparent intelligence.”
He smiled and rested one hand over the butt of his machete while the other sat atop the grip of a pistol. “I had hoped that you specifically would be the one to bear witness to the fate of the town of Nipton. I want you to memorize every detail, and then, when you move on? I want you to teach everyone you meet the lesson that Caesar's legion taught the Mojave here.”
Twilight's breathing suddenly increased, each exhale causing a flood of hot lead to pour through her veins. Her muscles twitched, her vision narrowed, and she struggled to stop herself from lashing out at the man before her.
“I want you to teach them that they are weak, and we are strong. This much is known already, but the depths of their moral sickness, their dissolution,” he continued. “Nipton serves as the perfect object less-”
Twilight couldn't resist it any longer, couldn't resist how her body screamed at her to kill. With even her blood howling for violence, the former pony felt her thinking mind begin to recede. Her animal instincts bayed for the destruction of her foes, and she could no longer resist those angry demands. Twilight could not bear such horrors, but some darker, less logical part of her had no such quarrels with slaughter.
“I’m going to wear your head like you wear that dog’s!” bellowed the beast before charging.
“Legionaries?! We have a problem!” shouted the dog-headed man as he fell back.
A single valiant legion soldier managed to get between the deathclaw and its target before it reached the man’s leader. He swung his blade at the towering lizard’s midsection but never actually managed to follow through with the strike. A backhanded swipe sent the human flying, where he slammed into a cross and struggled to rise.
With the only meaningful defense now removed from its target, the beast continued its charge, claws raised high. The legion leader ducked out of the way with one swipe but wasn't fast enough to completely avoid both of the lizard’s hands. The machete he raised to protect him managed to deflect it slightly, but a single clawed finger slipped past.
“Gah,” he cried, the man falling back and gripping his face.
The commander rapidly stumbled backward, his smile now permanently extended to a painful degree. His soldiers were quick to cover him, the men throwing themselves at the beast with abandon, weapons raised high. Beset on all sides, the deathclaw put aside its hunt of the dog-headed man and chose to slake its thirst for violence upon her target’s underlings.
Low caliber rounds and machete strikes peppered the deathclaw but rarely pierced its thick hide. It also made no attempt at defense, and attacked ruthlessly, swinging its clawed hands wildly. Two men fell almost immediately, with one losing an arm while the other had the majority of his face torn away.
A blast of buckshot fired directly into the beast’s back caused the source of its ire to turn on the new attacker. The moment the deathclaw’s gaze fell on him, the soldier flinched, dropping the shells he had been loading into his sawed-off shotgun. His allies tried to intervene and save him by renewing their assault but nothing would stop the creature’s rage.
The first swipe removed the shotgunner’s arms around the elbow. The second tore a trio of gouges deep in his midsection, leaving his guts to spill out of the new holes. As he fell to the ground screaming, his attacker, the beast, had already turned its attention to someone else.
A particularly strong legion soldier had actually managed to cut throguh the beast’s hide and needed to be dealt with. The deathclaw did this by grabbing his arm the next time he swung, yanking him closer, and biting two-thirds of his head off. As it chewed on the man’s skull, it swung down and removed the arm of another of the legion soldiers.
While their comrade stumbled backward and tried to staunch the flow of blood, the other men took a step away. They were on the brink of making a run for it when the beast made their decision for them by charging immediately. One of the more cowardly of the bunch tried to flee but only made it a few feet before getting bisected at about the midsection.
One of the six remaining men tried to resist and unloaded what bullets remained in his gun into the beast’s chest. A single shot out of the nine-round magazine managed to pierce the deathclaw’s hide while the others hurt but left only bruises. The pain caused by the gut shot was so distant to the giant lizard that it barely even felt the hunk of metal enter its midsection.
All it felt was rage, and it fed that rage by raking its claws down its foe's chest, leaving massive gaping wounds in its wake. The man was then brushed aside, and crushed underfoot as the deathclaw chased after the fleeing soldiers. Stomping up the stairs to the town hall, the beast grabbed one of the men by the leg and used him like a club to sweep three of his comrades from their feet. The soldier then had his midsection bitten out before being discarded without a second thought.
The next to die had a claw jammed straight through their torso, and into the stairs beneath him. His ally lived only a few seconds longer and managed to empty the contents of his pistol before he was decapitated. Though his bullets did nothing, one of the two remaining soldiers accomplished what his ally could not.
A rifle round hit, and went right through deathclaw’s hand, striking a lucky section that wasn't as hardened as the rest. His luck didn't keep up for long though, as the beast slammed its fists into his shoulders, crushing the majority of his torso.
The final remaining soldier threw open the doors and yelled something the beast did not hear. It charged in any way and spotted several dogs that had been ready to charge it. The moment they laid eyes upon the fearsome visage of the deathclaw, the mutts turned tail and fled back inside. Leaving their master confused, and soon deceased, as the deathclaw rammed its hand straight through his belly. He was then hoisted into the air, where he had a large bite taken out of him before being tossed aside.
The thump of something heavy landing only a few feet away brought the deathclaw’s attention downward. Where it saw something round, and metallic sitting on the ground, baffling the creature. It knew, vaguely, what it was, but couldn't recall its name or why it was supposed to be afraid of the tiny thing.
Despite its confusion, the deathclaw reacted on impulse, attempting to fling away the grenade using a power it didn't have a name for. It felt a spark, a reaction somewhere deep inside of itself, and the bomb began to glow a faint red color. Then the aura vanished, and the explosive detonated with terrible force, throwing the deathclaw against a wall.
Shrapnel stuck into its hardened exterior and stung viciously. Pain bloomed all across its body, and it struggled to keep focused under the barrage of agony assaulting it.
“A simple monster, how disappointing,” spat a voice nearby.
The beast looked up from its spot half crumpled on the floor, to where a familiar man with a dog head sitting atop his skull stood at the entrance to the town hall.
“And here I thought you would serve my goals,” he muttered, each sound causing blood to gush from his mouth. “I suppose you will serve as a lesson if nothing else, while your erstwhile ally tells of what happened here.”
The deathclaw stumbled to a stand and tried to lurch forward, only for the floor to groan. A second later and it was falling into the basement, confusion turning to pain once again. A pain which was magnified when it heard something crash nearby a second before something hot splashed against its chest.
The burning liquid stung worse than the shrapnel and was enough to make a shriek of terror fling from its lips. Looking around, the beast found that the molotov cocktail had ignited the broken beams and dusty bits of wood in mere seconds. A second one landed nearby, causing a crate to go up in flames, nearly surrounding the deathclaw completely.
“Seal the beast in, and burn the place to the ground,” exclaimed a voice. “Let's see how this monster likes a little fire.”