Rafaela, Nevada. 2361.
I guess the Militia had the same idea, because as soon as I threw the first MFC Cluster into the army, they began to split into groups and withdrew into the town, clearing a path for the Securitron squad stationed in the Fire Station's Garage. The automatons tore into the enemy, Glasting House X-23 Gatling Lasers blaring as rockets flew from their shoulder-mounted rocket pods, annihilating the frontmost raiders. Molotov Cocktails and improvised Powder Charges continued flying from the ranks of Chimeras, the incendiaries splashing against the hardened steel shells. But the explosives sent fragments into the wheels of the Securitrons, toppling the now-useless defenders to the ground, where their hydraulic limbs were torn from them by Raider hounds.
I had drawn a considerable group of Chimeras after me, but I could handle it. I retreated up my hill, taking potshots at the Chimeras with my Magnum. I reached the scrap fence surrounding my hut, and dove over it, clicking away at my Pip-Boy as the Raiders struggled up the hill. I finished my task, and flung another MFC Cluster down the hill, the overcharged, unstable cells bursting apart and decimating the charging Raiders, though another, larger group broke off and again charged up the hill. And that's when the quadruplet of Mark VI Laser turrets rose from the dirt, grime sliding from the sleek metal shells as ultra-hot beams of condensed light sprayed across the assaulters, felling them. I seemed to have done sufficient work, as the Militia was now flanking the thinned out Raiders whom were in the streets, various projectiles flying from the windows of seemingly abandoned buildings.
And then a pair of Cerberus-i-eses (I don't know what the plural is, damnit!) emerged from the crowd. They were pretty much giant mutant dogs, and despite the name, had only one head. One charged up the hill, the other running deeper into town. I was kinda insane because of that bullet, so I ran down the hill, towards the charging death-beast, and jumped on its head. I dug my knife into its head, holding on as it bucked wildly, laser turrets pelting it. I reached back with one arm, and pulled an arrow from my quiver, and jabbed it into one of the Cerberus' eyes, causing it to throw me off, sending me down the hill. I picked myself up from the ground, and dusted myself off, my knife still in my grip. It was charging right at me, again, so I did another stupidly suicidal act. I dove under it, swinging the knife across its underside, disemboweling it.
The town had a contingency plan in case of a numerically superior attacking force, and since a good portion of the town's inhabitants were mutants... you see where this is going. It seemed that Raul had made the executive decision to release the horde of Ferals from the sewers into town. I hoped that most of the normals had gotten their homes barricaded in time, but the town was being overrun anyways. As the Ferals tore apart the Chimeras, the other Cerberus charged into their horde, sending multitudes of ghouls flying like ragdolls. It was time to call in the big guns. After the Remnants had run off, they gratuitously left blueprints for the Enclave's Vertibirds. With the factories around Vegas relatively secure, they had been put into full production to be used as a rapid response force. Each loaded to the brim with Securitrons, and armed to the teeth, the five wings of Vertibirds were a force to be reckoned with.
I accessed the rapid-message system that linked to the penthouse of the Lucky 38. I had left someone I trusted in command of the Strip most of the time, with me checking in once and a while and Yes-Man advising them. That someone was Chauncey, the crippled former White Glove member, heavily wounded by an assassin long ago.
ZedHead: Deploy Wing Bravo to Rafaela, on the double. We have an overwhelming Chimera raid in progress.
LegLess: Copy, Wing Bravo inbound.
I locked down my Pip-Boy again, and rose out of the divot I was in. Though the 'Birds moved fast, the Militia desperately needed a distraction. Which, by default, was me. I charged into the middle of them, a cluster of stimpacks gripped in one hand, and my Magnum in the other. I was jabbing stimpacks into my arm almost faster than I was firing. Reloading with one hand was a really useful trick, and by the time I had gone through the myriad of drugs in my hand I heard a comforting whir in the air. I charged towards the Fire Station at full speed, ignoring the bullets peppering me, and manually slammed the hatch shut as I hid in the underground bunker in the station. The earth shook, loosing bits of Concrete from the ceiling, followed by the sound of dozens of micronuclear detonations.
I emerged from the hatch, basking in the rows of bodies and radiation, providing a comforting warmth, as it accelerated my healing. It seemed the Securitron Blitz squads would be unnecessary for now, as the remaining raiders ran from the town. I needed to have a very seriously light-hearted conversation regarding improving town defense with a certain mustached ghoul.
