[u][b]Ohio Route 229 - 2 miles South of Waldo, OH[/b][/u]

Richard twirled the handle of the Super Sledge back and forth along his shoulder as he was wont to do when annoyed, as he watched, with bored indifference, the feral wranglers herd their charges across the old bridge and past him, towards their final destiny in the front lines, about 50 miles to the East. While he understood that the Front had to be supplied with ammunition, and ferals are as much ammunition as a bullet or rocket, and it was too important a task to be left to Dum-Dums, he still hated everything about the assignment....the ferals, the insolent and untrustworthy ghouls who they relied on to control them, and the fact he was stuck baby-sitting them instead of being at the front caving in skulls.

Damn that worm Joe! It was his stupidity that got him swallowed whole (and very much alive!) by the Behemoth Lord, his immediate Lieutenants fed to the Centaurs, and the next level of leadership, including him, demoted to "redeem themselves". And all because Joe refused to believe Ronto would lift a finger to help the Brotherhood and didn't deploy nearly enough troops to stop them when (surprise!) the Ronto soldiers in Toledo came down to break the encirclement long enough for the Brotherhood to evacuate what troops they still had in Ft Wayne. Last he heard before his demotion was scouting parties in Michigan were not only finding no-one, but signs that the Ronto and Brotherhood humans were shooting any humans who refused to evacuate. 

They were beginning to learn. 

Richard was shaken from his internal diatribe by a sudden explosion at the far end of the bridge. He turned left to see, it had caught the lead elements of the baggage train, which had been behind the ferals. His first thought was relief that the ferals were already across the now destroyed span. This was followed by scorn at their unknown assailants, presumably the Pittsburgh raiders, why didn't they blow up the whole bridge and wipe out most of his convoy? Such a small section could be easily repaired by slaves.....this lead to a sick sense of dread as Richard began to suspect that it wasn't an accident. Richard reached for his battered old field radio. 

"Get the Ferals off the bridge NOW!", Richard roared, "It's a ambush!"

As the wranglers began herding the ferals off the bridge, Richard saw what looked like the patter of rain fall around the massed ferals. But as ferals began to scream and fall as whatever it was touched them, the unmistakable chatter of machinegun fire from the South...behind him...began, but oddly enough it sounded like it was far away. Richard whirled around to see. Parallel to the road was a field, beyond that about 100 yards or so was a treeline. This was too close for the faint sound of the gunfire. Then he saw movement above the trees and looked up. Arcing above and over the treeline, as it coming from a long distance, was two lines of flickering red tracers that converged with the ferals on and near the bridge, and it was decimating them rapidly. Eventually, the wranglers that weren't hit themselves jumped off the bridge to get out of the kill zone. Richard was astounded by this, he had never seen machineguns used in this manner before. 

Richard knew they were all dead if they didn't act fast, and after the harsh tutelage of Mutants that had served the NCR, Brotherhood, and Legion before being reborn in the Unity, he knew what he must do. Ordering the Wranglers to unleash the ferals still under command towards the tree line, he quickly rallied the Mutants on his side of the bridge and lead them forward, towards the tree line, hard on the heels of the enraged ferals. Whoever was spotting for the distant guns was in that treeline, and no doubt more enemies were as well. They had to close with them or they would be cut to pieces. 

As they approached, two more machineguns began to fire, this time from the treeline. They were widely spaced apart, catching the whole approach in a crossfire, scything down the ferals with brutal efficiency. But he had anticipated this. 

"Target the source of the tracers!", Richard bellowed, "silence those machineguns!"

Obediently, the Mutants began firing at the locations where the tracers were emerging from the treeline. One Mutant had a Fat Man he had picked up from a fallen comrade, and managed to land his only bomb right behind the right hand machinegun, the explosion sending the blazing weapon flying into the air towards them, striking and crushing a feral directly. Parts of the crew rained down around them.  

A body with both legs and left arm blown off landed about 10 feet in front of Richard, who glanced at it as he ran by, noticing the rubbery cover that looked like a mockery of human skin, and clear mechanical parts underneath. 

"A robot?", Richard thought, "what kind of robot is that?" He didn't have time to investigate, luck was finally breaking his way and he had to exploit it while he still could. 

"Flank right!", Richard exclaimed, "Get out of the line of fire of the other gun!" 

As the remaining ferals charged headlong into the treeline, Richard and his remaining Mutants headed for thier right, hoping to flank the Enemy on their left and roll them up.  But as they advanced, they found only dead ferals, and a lesser number of downed robots, all in white outfits with white armor and armed with some sort of laser rifle. Ahead, they heard the snarls of ferals and the sound of energy gun fire, the other machinegun had stopped firing. As they neared the firing, a grenade dropped from above and began to emit a voluminous cloud of smoke. As they fired into the trees, with no target in sight, suddenly one of the mutants cried out. Josh, who had their only flamer, crumpled to the ground, blood gushing from his neck. After that, the smoke was too thick to see further than arms reach, all around him were the cries of Mutants as they were attacked, one by one. Rushing out of the smoke cloud, he finally came face to face with his enemy, who suddenly winked into view, after the tell tale pop of a Stealth-Boy failing. He was a tall black man, with closely cropped hair and wearing a leather trenchcoat that reached his calves and sunglasses. His face was completely expressionless as he leveled a single shot grenade launcher at his chest. Richard rushed forward, winding up his Super Sledge for a swing, but it was far too late. The human fired, and the projectile struck him square in the chest, knocking the wind out of him and toppling him over. Before he could recover, the human dropped the grenade launcher, produced a grenade and pulled the pin, and hurled it at him. It exploded with a loud pop, coating him in foam which rapidly hardened upon exposure to air, completely immobilizing him. 

Finding himself trapped, Richard began cursing the human, not that he appeared to care. One of the robots approached the human.

"Report", the human said in a voice as flat and emotionless as his expression. 

"Enemy force neutralized", the robot said in a odd buzzing voice. "Eight Gen2 units destroyed, fourteen damaged but assessed repairable. One support weapon destroyed. Two other Mutants and five non-feral ghouls in custody, three wounded. The cut-off force has disengaged, heading West towards the occupied settlement of Waldo."

"Half our force", the human said flatly. "We underestimated them. Prepare the prisoners, damaged units and support weapons for immediate relay out. Collect all destroyed units that can be found in fifteen minutes. All units will be relayed out in twenty minutes, sooner if the enemy approaches. Execute". 

Richard resumed his cursing, adding in the casualty report for good measure. The human knelt next to him, and spoke, for the first time showing a hint of emotion. 

"Shut up", X6-88 said as he injected a sedative into the Mutant's neck. As the sedative began to take effect, and the world began to dim, his last thoughts were of his old Warboss Joe. 

"You bastard", he though bitterly, "I hope you lived for a while in there....."