April 30th, 2272.
Jet Sky, ~17, was exploring the Capital Wasteland, searching for a group with ethically right goals, who would accept someone of a more... Questionable past... While passing the anchorage war memorial, he encountered a wastelander...
Cerebral Jack was currently looking at a map, examining where his target would be. He was getting more and more Talon targets everyday, he was wondering if he should just blow the place up or shoot him in the head. When a nearby waste lander walked over to him. "Sorry buddy, I don't got any water."
"Yeah, If we want water, dunk our head in that Lake!" Jet nodded to the lake, then back to this mysterious stranger. "Hmm, Want to do a deal? I'll give you 50 caps if you can direct me to a ethically correct group..."
Fniff1 18:17, 2 May 2009 (UTC)(Sam is done for the back-story,time for the little mentioned Georgie.)
Georgie was looking around DC for a gun or something. He'd escaped the Vault with no weapons except for a sharpened piece of metal. It was quite obvious he was from a Vault by the Vault Suit,pip-boy,misunderstanding of mutants and how dangerous they are,very slow talking to wastelanders and surprised look at everything in the wasteland. He went over to the other side of the river and saw some wastelanders.
"helllo...can...you tell mee...where isss..a...gun shop..?" he said slowly.
Jack tried not to laugh, as the stranger looked at him strangely. "You obviously ain't been here long man, the "Ethnically Correct" groups in this place die before they can find three members. The one's that don't are filled with mentally insane super mutants. Besides, shouldn't you be off pillaging villages or something?" He then looked across the river, it looked like another vault wanderer. "You guys are breeding like rabbits ain't you? Anyway, I suggest you crawl back into your hole before you get hurt!"
Fniff1 18:23, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"I'm..Sorry..But my vault...85....is now...a pile..of...rocks..." Georgie said."But...I...need...a...weapon...."
Conor Strauss hadn't yet gotten used to the horrible stench of the Wasteland air. He also hadn't stopped walking since that bastard in the dickish hat had ran him out of Megaton. Worthington hovered along diligently behind him, ready to dispense the water he'd learnt was so very, very valuable out here if he needed to trade with anyone or to get himself hydrated. His Vault Suit had been outfitted with crudely attached pieces of metal and leather armour in the month or two since he'd cleared the door of Vault 94. Suddenly he paused, slumped and crawled along the floor towards a particularly comfortable-looking boulder, which he planted his back against and began to take deep breaths.
"Master," Worthington chimed in, "perhaps you'd prefer to rest, but I do notice that there are three people standing around, talking, approximately twelve metres away, just across the river. One of them appears to be wearing a Vault Suit." Conor blinked in confusion. There were other Vaults out here? He was fairly certain that he was the only one who'd escaped, so that had to be the case. He didn't know that. Seizing a drink from Worthington's condensation collector, he struggled to his feet and jogged over to the shore of the River.
"Hey!" He called out, panting heavily. He could only hope they wouldn't shoot at him, as he'd come to know most people of the Wasteland doing when you greeted them. "Do you know how I could get across this river?"
Fniff1 18:29, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Oh great!" Georgie said. "I USED THE BRIDGE! TRY NOT TO SWIM! RADIATION LEVELS ARE HIGH!" He shouted..
Jack looked at the other vault dweller over there, and back at the other one. "I was joking about the whole rabbits thing you know...". Jack looked over at the one across the river. "Like he said, use a bridge north of here."
"Heres a few caps, as you weren't much help..." Jet said, then turned to face the new figures. "Who are you?! And what do you want?" He Drew his .32 pistol, in caution...
Conor sighed with relief when they didn't shoot at him. He briefly consulted his Pip-Boy 3000's integrated compass module to determine which way north was, then glanced in that direction to see a flimsy-looking bridge. "Thank... thank you!" He yelled across the river to the group. One of them had pulled a gun and was asking what he wanted. "I just... want to know where... ah, hell! I'll tell you when I'M OVER THERE!" He was about to break off into another jog when he saw something moving beneath the surface of the water. Intrigued, he stepped closer to the river to inspect it. It was at this point that a bipedal giant crab, which he assumed was his enemy, emerged from the water. Shrieking and snapping its claws, it charged at him. Conor could only flee towards the bridge while Worthington spewed flame at it.
Jack took out a sniper rifle, and aimed at the mire lurks head. "Fucking Mire lurks" he whispered to himself as he fired at it with the rifle. He was aiming for the head, as the vault dwellers robot scorched him with flames, effectively barbecuing the Mire Lurk.
Fniff1 18:39, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"What are mirelurks?" Georgie asked.
Conor heard a gunshot and immediately cringed, checking whether or not he'd been shot. Would he still be alive if he'd been shot? Probably not, so he kept running. The strange crab man, however, shrieked in pain, but kept running, its shell having served it well against the Sniper Rifle. Gulping, Strauss pulled his Laser Rifle from his back and briefly checked the small charge meter on the side. 75%. Eighteen blasts. Picking up his speed as he ran, he eventually turned to face the Mirelurk for a split-second and then dived onto the floor, tapping the trigger of his Laser Rifle repeatedly while pointing it in the general direction of its small face. It staggered from the first shot as its soft flesh was burnt, and the rest of the blasts, combined with Worthington's flamer and another shot from the stranger's gun, brought it down. Pausing to catch his breath, he got to his feet. He'd seen that move on a holofilm.
Fniff1 18:45, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"HEY!" Georgie shouted. "I need to talk to you!" He ran after Conor.
Jet passed his .32 pistol to the gun wanting vault-dweller, trusting him to be careful... He watched as flames flew all round in the distance... Suddenly, about four Mirelurks emerged from the water, ready to strike the shiny white robot... In a reflex action, Jet threw a Hyper Grenade at the beasts, killing three in a dashing burst...
An explosion went off near Worthington, causing Conor to yelp. He glanced to his robot to see that there was no visible damage, so he nodded to himself and checked his Rifle's charge again. 55%. He'd went a bit crazy with the trigger there back in his little encounter with Captain Crab. That was what fear made you do. He briefly felt around his groin for any sign of dampness, knowing what else fear could make you do, then sighed with heavy resignation as he brought his hand back up to smell. It was at this point he heard the other guy in the Vault suit call out. So he needed to talk to him. That was good. Conor had a few questions for the mysterious man in the same suit as him as well. With both of them jogging on either side of the river, they both came to the bridge at roughly the same time and met eachother as they walked along it.
"What's up?" Conor asked, exhaustion and anxiety saturating his tone of voice. He just hoped nobody would notice he'd pissed himself.
Fniff1 18:57, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Do you know how these people survive in these environments?" Geogie asked.
"What? No... no." Conor said, struggling to reassert control of his breathing pattern once again. "I just arrived here in the Capital Wasteland... a month or two ago. I've stayed in a scrap-constructed settlement approximately two kilometers north-west from here since." He said, before he realised that scientist-esque analysis had no place in the Wasteland and recalled the name of the place. "Megaton, I mean. I was heading down to Rivet City. Heard they're a bit more friendly to the more intellectual of individuals."
Jet strolled toward the robot... "Interesting..." Jet muttered to himself. He touched its covering arm. "Sir! He's touching me!" It Focused its eyes on Jet. "I'm Warning you!" Jet backed off, and looked at the two weirdo's in suits...
"Get your filthy irradiated mitts off my robot!" Conor cried suddenly, his voice reaching new heights of pitch as he span around to face the Wastelander who'd touched Worthington. "Are you alright, Worthington? Did he smudge your casing?"
Fniff1 19:11, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Jesus! Don't do that! He has a gun!" Georgeie shouted.
"What the God-forsaken wasteland is this Bucket of Bolts, Its much more cool that old bucket of bolts Deputy Weld... I Didn't mean to harm it... Him... Erm... Sorry..." Jet hung his head in shame, and behind his back started to Prep his remaining hyper Grenade... "I disn't mean to harm it... I just wondered what it was..." Suddenly, The robot turned to Jet and grabbed the Preped Hyper-Grenade in its metal claw and crushed it! Just as it was about to explode, Jet found himself watching as it flew through the air, landing on the bridge, making it cave in... "Umm..." Jet started to pace backwards... "You were gonna kill me!"
Fniff1 19:16, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
'You were going to kill me a second ago,so I think that was deserved." Geogie said.
"Localised motion sensors indicate that he did, in fact, prep the grenade for detonation before I grabbed it. I may have saved everyone's lives here today, Master," Worthington rolled off in a flat, analytical tone as he kept his Flamer arm trained on Jet. Conor sighed with relief, then lifted his Laser Rifle to point at Jet. "Al... alright. You're going to tell me why you did that, or I'll feed you to Captain Crab's recently orphaned kiddies."
(Now someone needs to point out he pissed himself. Lol.)
Fniff1 19:20, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Try me." Jet gestured towards Conors Suit, specifically, around waist hight. "I'm obviously Braver than you." Jet grinned a grim grin. "Oh, and I preped that for that. Jet pointed towards a deathclaw quickly gaining speed towards them. Conors pants seemed to go darker.
Fniff1 19:27, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie jabbed his spike into the deathclaw's eye.
"Good monstrosity,Good..AGH!" He shouted as the deathclaw swiped at him.
Virtually everyone in the small crowd had began to laugh at the damp patch accumulating on Conor's pants, who had went red as a Pre-War tomato in response. The man with the grenades then pointed towards the right. Conor screamed out loud and started firing madly at its horrible face. The other Vault Dweller started blasting it with his revolver and the man in the poncho had was taking pot shots at it with his sniper rifle.
Fniff1 19:32, 2 May 2009 (UTC)(dude,Georgie only has a sharpened metal spike.)
Jet so wished he had used his hyper grenade. He quickly lay down a few frag mines, and hit it with his tire Iron. The robot Started burning it to a fine crisp, while the assassin character shot from the opposite bank.
Fniff1 19:39, 2 May 2009 (UTC)(Oh,Right.Thanks.Sam is another one of my characters.i keep mixing them up.)
Georgie ran out of bullets and chucked the gun and ran. He accidentally fall into the river.
Jet helped poor Georgie out of the river, while the other guys killed the beast. Jet asked if anyone had any Rad-away. Conor said he had, and gave it to Georgie. Jet gave him 50 caps gratitude, gave Georgie a stimpack, and picked up his ammoless pistol. He grabbed a knife from a corpse nearby, and cut off the Deathclaws hand, as a trophy.
Fniff1 19:55, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"I just don't know how you guys even exist for this long." Geogie said. "Oh jesus,I felt soo...Tingly."
Conor breathed heavily. He'd considered diving in after Georgie, but the guy with the grenades had the same idea before him, it seemed. That man who'd tried to blow Conor up had just saved the other Vault Dweller's life. Conor easily parted with a syringe loaded with Rad-Away he'd picked up from Doc Church before he was chased out of Megaton, then sat down on the ground. "Are you alright?" He asked Georgie between gasps. His nerves were a wreck.
Jack was tired of Georgie constant whining. He walked over to him, and grabbed him, right before throwing him into the water. "Stop Bitching about it! We exist because we don't complain, and learn how to blow shit up like Jet over there!" Jack then drew his sniper rifle, and started to fire at the Mirelurks trying to eat George.
Fniff1 20:03, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"FUCK OFF YOU RADIATED ROACH!"Georgie grabbed Jack's neck and tried to pull him down into the water.
Conor took a deep breath and jumped in after George, curling up into a ball as he fell towards the green-tinted surface of the water. It occurred to him, moments before he was to submerge himself, that he couldn't swim either. The water stung his eyes as he looked around. It was an effort in futility; he couldn't see much anyway, apart from the indistinct shadowy shape of something moving towards him which was quickly stopped by a bullet from above the surface. Eventually he found Georgie and grabbed him by his collar, before, after actually walking on the riverbed for a while, managing to get him to shore. Conor himself had to be dragged out by Worthington after collapsing from exhaustion. He would have really liked to breathe just then.
Jet was shocked. He didn't know quite what to do. He couldn't exactly help Georgie, as his grenades would kill him. He wasn't going to jump in and beat them to death... And the robot couldn't really burn them underwater, and he didn't know much about lasers... All he could do was gawp as Georgie was attacked... Suddenly Conor jumped in too! They both started flailing about, and soon were surrounded by mirelurks! Jet thought they were pretty much doomed anyway, and lobbed a few hot potatoes at the crab kings. A few died, and luckily both of the vault dwellers were OK. Soon the robot managed to grab them both, without frying its circuits.
John Hale stood watching them from a small distance off. It disgusted him to have to integrate with Wastelanders. And all because the Senate demanded that the President should be able to return to DC. Pricks. Almost as bad as the poncho clad fuck threatening the little guy. He walked out from the shade of the bridge and raised a hand to show he meant no harm. He didn't want a gunfight. Not without his unit at his back, and they hadn't been sent here with him. For some reason, the Senate had sent a Special Forces Soldier to do a spy's job. Morons. Hale then showed how useful he was by shooting a Mirelurk with his M72, killing it in one.
Galahad, a Knight within the Brotherhood of Steel, stepped out from the shadows of the buildings and he checked his radar.
"All clear...alright, oh wait---SHIT!" said the soldier as his radar lit up with red dots. Changing to his binoculars in his helmet, he zoomed in on a circle of Miruleks surronding what seemed to be a band of Wastelanders by the Anchorage War Memorial. Grabbing his Assault Rifle off of his back-sling, the Knight charged towards the endangered Wastelanders.
Fniff1 20:16, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie crawled over to the shore. "ahhh..
"Who are you?" Jet asked the two strangers. "Explain yourself! Now!" Jet Grabbed up his on of his last grenades. "What do you want!?" Jet was getting sick of being surrounded by weirdos. He ignored poor Georgie, throwing a stimpack, which georgie thought was a grenade.
Strauss gratuiously allowed himself to breathe again. It felt incredibly good to do so after that, but also strained his chest. Too much excitement for five or so minutes - crabs, standoffs, giant lizards, diving... it may have been harder outside of the Vault, but it was certainly more exciting. Now, he stunk like shit and would probably contract radiation poisoning. But on the plus side, it was impossible to tell he'd pissed himself now.
Fniff1 20:25, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie yelped and ran but tripped over some rubble and cut his legs. He cried softly. "Why can't anybody just fucking tell me where the nearest inhabited shelter is and give me 50 years worth of food?" He cried.
Galahad came to a halt as the last of the Mireluks were destroyed, though he had helped only in the slightest.
'These Wastelanders were good shots' thought the Knight.
"Who are you!? Explain what you're doing here...NOW!" commanded one and Galahad turned, and saw the man holding what appeared to be a medium-length tube.
"I am Galahad, Knight of the Brotherhood of Steel, Squad Sergeant for the 1st Recon Battalion, the White Anvil. And you are?" replied the Knight, sheathing his Assault Rifle and taking off his helmet, which he cradled under his right arm.
"Woah... who built your vocalisation circuits?" Conor asked, baffled by the strange man-shaped robot that had appeared and was now rolling off an introduction. Worthington chimed in again. "Master, I believe that's a man in a suit." The robot exclaimed. "... Oh... so you're not a robot? Okay... I can deal with that... right..." Conor said, pausing for breaths. "My name's C--... my name's Strauss."
"Major John Hale, Steel Bridge Military." Hale said, choosing the name of a group his unit had helped wipe out in California. He nodded to the Brotherhood Knight. He really hoped his contempt for the man wasn't showing. Otherwise it could lead to problems. (for the new faces, he's an Enclave Warrior Weapon, it's mentioned in the article). Hale looked at the wasters. One of them had a grenade.
"Now, boy, do you really want me to shoot that grenade right out of your hand? I don't think so, considerin it'll likely blow the right hand side of your torso off too." Hale said to Jet.
Fniff1 20:38, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Who is that?" Georgie shouted.
"A pleasure to make your aquantience, Strauss. And yours, Major" replied Galahad. The military man showed no outward signs of hostility, but something about the way he carried himself set the hairs on the back of Galahad's neck tingling.
"I am sorry that I could not arrive sooner, to help you all, but you fared quite well by yourselves. Now, I have a small, personal, haven about half a mile away from here. It has water and food, where you all can rest. I would be honored to have you as my guests, if you so choose" continued Galahad, smiling fondly at the Wasters.
He knew that many of his Brothers and Sisters distrusted and disliked the Wastelanders, but he was not one of them, primarily because he had been one, not born into the Brotherhood like many of his friends.
"I'm Jasper!" Jet lied. He tried to cover the engravings in his leather Armour. They saw. He didn't trust these brotherhood guys, or this new hale guy... "I am only as cautious as I need to be. You do any rash actions, and well, you know the rest." He clenched his grenade tightly. He really didn't want to use it. He wanted to be safe, but he didn't trust them. "I would be glad, Galahad."
Fniff1 20:50, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie got up and limped over to the group. "Anybody have some food? I'm very hungry." Georgie said.
"Yeah, so are the Mirelurks." Jet sniggered. Georgie Looked offended. "Galahad here, the brotherhood guy offered us refuge. You coming?"
Hale shrugged. Might be useful to get some intel on the Brotherhood up here too.
"I'm in." Hale said brightly to Galahad. "Which way do we go?"
He slung his M72 over his back and stuffed his hand into his pockets. It was taking every ounce of will power not to deck this "Knight". Those bastards had helped the Chosen One. And the Chosen One had fucked the Enclave.
Fniff1 21:05, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Geogie looked at Hale. "Why are you looking like you were killing chairman cheng with yor own hands?" Geotgie asked.
"Yeah, I'll tag along. Do you have any Rad-Away to spare? I gave my last shot to Georgie, and, well, I'm dripping in radioactive liquid shit, as it stands." Conor said, wringing his sleeve of murky water as he spoke. He immediately checked his Laser Rifle and Pip-Boy for any water damage, and then, after finding none, began to look over Worthington's rotors.
Fniff1 21:12, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"I guess I better tag along too. I'm not going to survive long enough to say 'this place is Hell'" Georgie said.
"Excellent. If you'll follow me, we should make it by dusk" replied Galahad and he took point, drawing his Assault Rifle and keeping it at low-ready position as the group navigated through the ruins of the Capital.
- Galahad's Haven
"We're here" said the Knight simply as the group arrived at what appeared to be a barren field, with a single rock jutting out of the center.
"You live in a field?" snorted Hale, the Major letting just an ounce of his inner-contempt show.
"Oh no, Major. I live underground, when not at the Citadel. Follow me" said Galahad and he led the way to the rock, which, on closer inspection, was nothing more than bonded pieces of steel. The Knight flicked a switch underneth the rock and the entire facade collapsed, much like the turbine gate of Megaton. A steel ladder led down a tunnel, lit periodically with halogen lights.
Without a word, Galahad led the way down and when the entire company had traveresed the ladder, they found themselves in a wide antechamber, sparse in decoration but still radiating a feel of home.
"Not much, I know, but still someplace that is not in Mutie-territory" Galahad said, removing his armor and placing it on a rack in the corner.
"Now, here is the common area. That way" Galahad started, pointing to his left, "is where you can find the two bedareas and restroom. To the right is the kitchen, help yourself to anything you need. You are welcome to stay as long as you like"
Fniff1 21:20, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"IT"S LIKE HOME!" Georgie shouted and jumped onto one of the beds.
Jet was resisting the urge of stuffing a grenade into Georgie's stupid face and pulling the trigger. He was infuriating! Jet had already helped him so much and he was just moaning and moaning. At least he was happy now. He could see why the assassin shoved him into the river. Jet hoped he got radiation poisoning and died before reaching morning. Maybe he would 'Accidentally' drop a grenade with a missing pin. Maybe he would give him a poisoned Stimpack... Or slit his throat... His mind was swirling with unique ways to kill this whiny fool. Ugh. I'll just ignore him. Here I am looking to do good and I am plotting the death of a Wastelander! Look at me! I'm a disgrace. Jet thought. "You guys all OK? Wheres the food?"
Conor quirked an eyebrow as Georgie yelled, then allowed himself a brief, awkward laugh. So he'd just followed a robot-- wait, no, a man in a suit to a random field, underneath which he had an underground base. Completely normal! Well, it probably was out here. It wasn't like he knew much about the Wasteland. Shrugging to himself, he responded to Jet's question. "Yeah, I'm, uh, fine," he said, before he turned to face Knight Galahad. "On a similar note, where do you keep your medical supplies?"
"Holy shit! This place is a waterworks waystation, isn't it? Have you tapped the pipes from the reservoir, I hear the place has clean water." Hale said, looking around at Galahad's little bunker. He looked in at the kitchen. Not a bad retrofit. Hale had no idea how he got the two ovens down the ladder though. He scratched his chin, and then instinctively flexed his hands around the grip of his Ka Bar and M1911. He immediately stopped when he caught Strauss looking at him.
He looked over at the little Vault Dweller in the bed area. In spite of his being a pure human, he was irritating. Hale had listened to his incessant whining the whole way here. He wanted nothing more than to beat him to little pieces and hang his kidneys around his neck like furry dice.
Fniff1 21:34, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie sighed. This place was too good. " I can't believe this place is here." He said. "It's heaven."
"Aye it was. I've yet to tap the reservoir, as I lack the man power to do so" said Galahad, coming up behind the Major in the kitchen. The Knight was dressed in simple clothing, a shirt and slacks.
"I suppose I could help with that....but I have a question for you, Galahad" replied Hale.
"Indeed. I don't mean to be accusing, but I've noticed you have no heraldry of the Brotherhood of Steel here, nor did you have a unit symbol on your T-4x, nor did you ever have to report in while I've been in your company. Now, I am not privy to the ways your organization works, but in the Steel Bridge, we report in every hour when on assignment. I've done it twice already. Something tells me you haven't been honest with us...you're not in the Brotherhood of Steel are you?" asked the Major, a smirk creeping onto his face.
The healthy color that had been permeating Galahad's face drained out and he sat down in one of the chairs in the kitchen.
"No...no I'm not....not anymore at least" said Galahad.
Fniff1 21:52, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
While Georgie was lying on the bed,He saw a flamer. "can I borrow that?" He asked.
"What happened?" Hale asked Galahad. If he had been drummed out of the Brotherhood he couldn't be all bad. Hale was strategically ignoring the little Vault Dweller (Georgie may not be small, but Hale is 6 feet tall and 200lbs, so everyone's small to him). Untill the greedy little inbred moron went for the flamer. Hale raised his M1911 before Georgie could take two steps.
"Stop. I know morons like you, you'll let out a little jet of fire, thinking it's cool. You'll set something on fire, and if the flames don't kill us, the fire consuming the oxygen down here will. I know this because I threw a molotov cocktail into a cistern some raiders were holed up in not too far north of here." Hale sighed. He really had done that, except it wasn't raiders. It was a group of NCR infiltrators about to move on an Enclave refugee compound back in Cali. They had deserved it.
Fniff1 22:36, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
'What are you,A dick or something? I lived in a place where oxygen is packed into containers and given to the overseer. I'm going to test it outside." Georgeie said. "You are stupider then those guys we found on a radio signal. The enclave or something. Stupid idiots."
"Son, I'm a dick and then some. But I'm the one with my own guns, one of which is pointed at your head. So right now, you call me sir, or I crush you into two little cubes and hang you from my keys like a set of furry dice. As for the Enclave being stupid idiots, yes, they are. Actually, they're probably long gone. As for you, you're either one unfortunate eight year old, or a moron if you use the phrase "Stupid idiot"." Hale said, indicating that Georgie should not go near the flamer.
He took a quick look at Galahad, who didn't seem to want to comment right now. In fact, he looked like he was deep in thought somewhere else.
Conor was sitting in the small common room, taking his clothes off. They were soaked with piss and irradiated water, but he could no longer tell the difference; they both smelled pretty much the same, like everything else here in this god-forsaken hellhole. Including him after today's events. Not that he wished to privately, mentally imply that Galahad's home was a hellhole; this place was actually pretty nice. And he'd probably be able to get a wash later, if that conversation about the place having clean water was to be believed. After stripping down to nothing conviniently out of sight of the others, he wrenched open Worthington's storage compartment (even the robot was polite enough to have its three eyestalks facing in different directions) and removed a fresh set of undergarments, a jumpsuit and a pair of boots. He eased himself into them, knowing they would have come in handy eventually. He then tied a handy leather strap around his bicep, rolled up the sleeve and picked up a hypodermic loaded with Rad-Away Galahad had allowed him to take. Smirking to himself at the rather humourous exchange of insults he could hear in the next room, he sank the needle into his arm and released the contents into his bloodstream, then popped a few Rad-X pills for good measure.
Fniff1 22:47, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Yeah,Enclave gone. THEY ARE STILL HERE YOU TWAT,THEY HAVE BEEN BROADCASTING FOR 5 YEARS NOW." Georgie said.
"And the Darwin Award goes to the kid who can't tell a broadcast from a recording. Keep wearing the tinfoil hat kid, just because you can't see Big Brother doesn't mean he's not there." Hale said in the most condescending voice he could manage. Then just for good measure, he gave Georgie a sarcastic thumbs up and a cheesey grin, without lowering the gun he still had pointed at the pretentious little insect's head.
Fniff1 22:56, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Darwin seems to have fucked up you in the evolutionary ladder,because you are a inbred hick. The broadcast went on for five years,and we were even contacted." Georgie said.
"How would Darwin fuck up one's evolutionary ladder, exactly? He only discovered the process, he had no hand in it in any way." Conor called out as he went about strapping on the armoured plates from his old, shit-soaked jumpsuit to his new one. He wasn't sure what Georgie was talking about with the Enclave - must have been some Wasteland organisation he knew nothing about. And why would you have an award named after a man? The only awards he knew of were Exceptional Diligence and Exceptional Productivity, and they consisted of a higher issue of rations for a week.
Fniff1 23:07, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"Darwin looks at creatures and goes 'that creature is good for surviving.' and 'oh he'll die at some point. Darwin looked at Hale,screamed and tried to stab him to death,thus making him even more unfit to survive." Georgie said.
Hale sighed. Poor little Georgie must have been dropped on his head. Thinking Darwin invented evolution. Made Hale wonder whether or not Georgie's Vault was trying to discover how a community of mental patients would deal with prolonged confinement and isolation. Probably. He also chuckled at the fact that the boy claimed they were contacted. Hale had contacted a Vault or two in his time. He knew for a fact that contact was more or less knocking on the door, coming in and herding the people into the Whirlies for debriefing and study. This kid was a halfwit. Hale felt sorry for the village that had been deprived of its idiot because Georgie was here.
"And if Darwin had tried to stab me, I'd have disarmed him and stabbed him to death with my own knife. Oh, look, Darwin failed in his own theory. And the theory was based on species, not individuals." Hale grunted, not bothering with the patronizing attitude this time.
Fniff1 23:13, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
"And you are a species on your own. You are a shun of humanity. A rat." George said.
Conor finished putting on his crude armour and walked out of the room, walking up to George and Hale and speaking. "Um, George, shun isn't a noun, it's a verb, I'm afraid," he said, patting his fellow Dweller on the shoulder condescendingly before continuing, "and, just a suggestion, but Hale seems to have a gun. Maybe you shouldn't be arguing with him. I hear that doesn't usually go down too well in this neck of the woods." Conor felt like he was rolling off slang he'd picked up in Megaton like even he didn't know what the fuck was going on, but it was probably normal.
Fniff1 23:20, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie grabbed the flamer and aimed it at Hale. "Now,I have a big gun" George said.
Hale then shot the fuel lines off Georgie's flamer.
"And the deadbeat has fuck all now. Sorry about that Galahad, but wankstain over there doesn't seem to understand firing that down here will suffocate us all." Hale said
Conor took a step back as Georgie picked up the "big gun". Was he really that crazy? He knew for a fact that this underground construction didn't have any air circulation from the surface or any internal supply of oxygen, and a flame like that would burn up what was inside pretty quickly. "Why don't you both put your guns down and settle this through, uh, I don't know, the medium of dance?" Conor suggested helpfully, trying to be reasonable yet conclusive. It was at this point Hale blankly ignored his suggestion and shot the fuel lines of George's flamethrower. "Well, that works too."
Fniff1 23:29, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
George took out the propane tank and threw it at Hale. It hit him in the face.
Hale caught the tank before it made contact. He didn't look pleased at all. So he walked over to Georgie. He really was big up close. Hale then put Georgie in a blood choke and waited for him to pass out. He then hogtied him, gagged him and pumped him full of Jet. Then he stuffed him into a cupboard and closed it. He then jammed a broom handle between the door handles to stop them opening. (Georgie cannot escape now, without someone's help. Anyone is allowed to take pity on him without fear of Warrior Weapon reprecussion)
Fniff1 23:39, 2 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie wondered how he was to get out. Then he kept banging against the door and before long it became way too annoying.
Conor walked up to the vibrating cupboard and carefully removed the broom handle, dropping it gently on the floor. With Georgie's next hit, the doors flew open, with Conor stepping back to avoid being hit by them. "You know, I hear those cupboard things cost money out here," He commented dryly, before helping Georgie out of his prison.
Fniff1 00:14, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
"I wish I could go back to my vault. If only the enclave hadn't came over and taken over it." Georgie said.
"What? The Enclave? Who are they? And why'd they take over your Vault? Where was your Vault? What number was it? What model were its Protectron enforcement units?" And so, Conor spat out question after irrelevant question.
Fniff1 00:24, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
"What Protectrons? Anyway,They took over because the air pipes were making us breathe Gas forms of Mentats. it didn't work and they killed us all and I'm the only survivor." George said.
Galahad sat at the kitchen table, memories swirling through his brain. Then, he rose and walked to where Georgie had been freed.
"You are a liar...the Enclave wouldn't blow up a Vault...they wouldn't wipe out a pure strain of humanity. It makes no sense, since they're the remnants of the Government" said Galahad, color returning to his face.
"What interest do you have in them, man?" asked Georgie, surprised by his hosts sudden advance.
"Because I'm going to find them...and when I do...I'm going to join them" replied Galahad with finallity evident in his voice.
The Brotherhood can rot in hell. So can the Outcasts...I was a fool to think that I could turn my back on the true force in this world. It is said that the son follows in the footsteps of his father...well it's high time that I did that thought Galahad.
Fniff1 00:55, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(You mean take over it?)
No. I mean like join the Enclave. As in enlist or become an officer, something like that
Fniff1 01:01, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(The vault.It was taken over.)(Oh my bad. I didn't realize. Sorry. Ok, anything else like this, can we take it to the Discussion page?)
Fniff1 01:07, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(Sure.If you need help with anything,come to me. and if need help with aticles,then go to runner. Man's a genius.)
Hale blinked. Well that was a surprising turn of events. Galahad, Knight of the Brotherhood was an Enclave lover. That was probably why he wasn't Brotherhood any more. Hale wondered just whether or not the Enclave would take this guy on. He was clearly inventive, liked the idea of the Enclave, and came with his own suit of (admittedly outdated) Power Armor. Hale scratched his chin. He was pretty sure Galahad would get in, but how far up the ranks he'd make it was beyond Hale. Now, Hale's mind moved on to whether or not he should put Georgie back in the cupboard.
Ignorant of what Galahad had said, Conor procured a handy clipboard and a pencil and began to take notes. "Yes, Protectrons. Didn't your Vault have Protectrons? I was under the impression that all Vaults were issued with approximately 650 Protectron units to keep the Vault Dwellers in line and working. Also, Mentats? Wouldn't that mean you're supremely intelligent?"
Fniff1 01:29, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
"Hey!That's....WRONG! They butchered my family, spat on the graves of my friends and moved into my home! Why the Fuck would you want to join them!?! WHY HAS THE WORLD REMOVED EVERY BIT OF MORALS IT HAS!?!" Georgie ran out of the small vault and cried outside."WHY GOD!?!WHAT THE FUCK IS UP WITH YOU!?! YOU GOT RID OF EVERYTHING I HAVE TO LIVE FOR!!" He punched the ground repeatedly. '(Song playing in the backround: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ST2H8FWDvEA )'
"Was it something I said?" Conor asked with a quizzical shrug, looking between Galahad and Hale with confusion.
"Well, he said the experiment failed. He's apparently an extreme example of that failure." Hale said cynically. He was now spinning his M1911 around his finger, while sizing Galahad up for the Armed Forces. He looked like a paratrooper, build wise, but his demeanor suited the Officer Classes much better. The man was an enigma. Hale didn't want to jump to any conclusions on him.
Then, as Georgie started his tantrum, Hale imagined the myriad ways of busting his head with various objects, with Bruce Springsteen's "Born in the USA" playing in the background.
Fniff1 01:38, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
Then Georgie realized something. "Burn. Burn everything. I will die and be relived of this hell hole." Georgie grabbed the tank and a nearby pistol and aimed the gun at the tank. "No more.This place has to burn." Georgie said.
Hale stepped up to the plate. He hit Georgie four times, two to the body and two to the head. As Georgie fell into a heap on the floor, Hale kicked the pistol he'd picked up away and stamped down on Georgie's hand. He then hogtied the miserable boy again and stuffed him back in the cupboard. This time he tied him to the back of the cupboard too, so that he couldn't bang against the doors, which he stuck closed again, with a broom handle.
Fniff1 01:49, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
So he rocked back and forth.
So Worthington burst into a fit of mocking laughter. Strauss shrugged, consulted his notes then moved to get some food. Maybe Georgie needed some time in there to cool off.
A random wastelander that had followed them in then proceeded to stuff the cupboard into a closet, locking the door behind him.
Fniff1 01:56, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
After about 5 hours of hearing him cry and shout,they decided that he was not going to give up.
..and they kept him in there.
From nowhere, Galahad drew a combat knife and ran towards Georgie and was about to stab him when Major Hale stepped up and unleashed a brutal beating on the whiny kid. Galahad smiled and bent down and picked up the pistol that Hale had kicked away.
"That little bitch...he took my gun" said Galahad, holding up the dark red 10mm pistol. He checked the magazine and then vanished into bunk area 1 and walked over to his personal bed, where he pulled a footlocker from underneath. The locker was wide and inside it held a suit of red Combat Armor, as well as a box of ammunition for his 10mm pistol and assault rifle. Donning the armor, he holstered the pistol and returned to the common area, where Hale had just finished stuffing Georgie into the closet...again.
"I'm going to find the Enclave. But I'm going to need help. Will any here join me? Jet, I'm sure you can find a group like the one you're looking for along the way. And, Major Hale, when we find the Enclave, I'm sure they could use a soldier of your skill, even if only for a short time. Strauss, you look like a scientist...the Enclave would have scientists there. Again I ask you, will any help me?"
Strauss had his teeth in a Mutfruit he'd liberated from the confines of a compact refridgerator in Galahad's kitchen when he saw the apparently self-proclaimed Knight had walked into the room behind him, kitted out in yet another suit of strange armour, talking about going off to find the Enclave. Conor bit off a chunk of the foul-tasting fruit, chewed briefly while deliberately trying to keep it away from his taste buds (and failing miserably) before swallowing, allowing himself a quick drink of water before he responded to the man's question.
"I was considering travelling to Rivet City, but as I don't know where that is, that could be problematic. However, if everything I've heard about the Enclave so far proves correct - er, everything I've heard from mentally sound people, I mean - then perhaps I could tag along on this trip to find them. Do you know where they are, per chance?" He asked, taking another bite from his Mutfruit in an attempt to look casual.
Jet had been on the surface while the fighting had been raging between Hale and Georgie. He was considering who was his best chance right now... To follow one of the vault dwellers, The guy from the BoS... Hale or The Assassin (Cerebral Jack, Where are you?)... He had been mulling it over when suddenly Georgie appear and went to a propane tank Jet had gathered from an abandoned truck half a mile away, and was about to burst is. Then suddenly the others appeared and started thrashing him... Ouch! Jet scrambled of his moist boulder and climbed down into the common area... "What was that about?"Jet Asked... "And why did Georgie try to kill himself with my propane?" He looked round the room. The only reply he got was "Hey Jet, Sorry about that!" from Knight Galahad. Then Galahad Proceeded to Discuss how he was going to join the enclave. "THE ENCLAVE? Are you MAD?" Jet asked. "I thought that radio recording was their last remnant." He stared at the group "Theis is Yowr Pwesident Jawn Henwy Eadwen!" Jet imitated. The others stared back. Then, just like that, Jet left the chamber. Embarrassed. "All right. I'll do it." Jet called.
Hale didn't know where to look. These guys were going looking for the Enclave, and either he could take them there, and risk breaking his cover, or he could lead them in circles, and risk breaking his cover, and then having to break heads. And that would not go down well with HighCom, never mind with the Senate. The cover bit, neither lot particularly cared whether or not he offed a few Wastelanders here and there. He just stood back, considering his course of action. He could always tag along, subtly throwing a spanner in the works, by doing nothing to help with finding the Enclave. He scratched his stomach. Fucking Senate had taken him out of his BlackOps armor and he was stuck in a Merc Outfit of some sort.
"Stop letting your mind wander, John!" Hale thought to himself. He had no idea what do do about this complete switchback of events. He was a soldier, not a spy! He then settled on his course of action. He wouldn't lead them. He'd follow this Galahad lad around, and subtly redirect him in case he came near anything important. It'd give some nice field research on how Wastelanders tried to find things. And he thought that Jet had done a pretty good President Eden impression, too. But if he did it again, Hale prayed that it wasn't just himself and Jet in the room. It'd be a shame if his patriotism got the better of him and he killed Jet.
"We should sleep until morning. Let me see you Pip' Strauss. Its 8PM. Alright. Can you set an alarm on that thing?" Jet stared at the wrist mounted computer. "Yeah? Set it for 8AM. We'll set off in the morning. Make sure to eat fresh. Or at least, fresh as you can be in this dump." He turned to Galahad "We can eat food from the kitchen, can't we?" Jet sat down. "If you guys don't wake by that time, I am leaving on my own."
"Okay," Conor said, tapping a series of buttons on the lightweight processor and nodding to himself as the numbers "08:00" filled the screen, flashing repeatedly, before fading back to what he had on it beforehand. "Alright, cool. I've set the alarm. Should we let Georgie out or are we leaving him here? Honestly, I'm good with either option." With that, Conor polished off his Mutfruit and settled into a nearby chair.
"We let him stay in there, teach the little shit a listen. Bastard won't shut up, I was wondering why the hell he left his vault in the first place." Jack got up and walked over to the cabinet, he knocked on it. "Now, I have a few questions to ask you, what was your vault number?"
"He said 87 when we were by the river, I think." Jet thought hard for a moment. "Yeah, I think it was 87. Anyway, Hale gagged the guy, and I am not taking him with us. You won't get an answer off him."
"I'm in. But for now, I'm tired. Thank fuck I gagged that little Vault Dweller runt, no offence, Strauss." Hale said. Exhaustion was showing in his eyes, and his movement. He'd had to go from the LZ, somewhere near Baltimore, to here on foot, "So as not to give away the Enclave presence in Raven Rock Bunker." Damn Senaors. Too much cloak, not enough dagger. Hale sighed and lumbered off to the bedding area, nodding to Galahad as he sat down on one of the beds. Then, with a quick wave to all, he turned over and started snoring a matter of seconds later. Having suffered many a face-painting incident in the barracks back in California, he kept his Ka-Bar in his hands. People tended not to want to draw a pirate moustache on you or shave your eyebrows if you cut off their fingertips.
"I'm going to bed now. You disturb me, and well... I dunno what I'd do." Jet walked behind a screen, got undressed, put a fresh pair of shorts on, and ducked near bed, locking the footlocker containing his last 5 frag's, his leather armour, and his hat. He put his caps in the corner under the bad, hidden in one of its hollow steel legs. His stimpacks he hid under a chair in the common room, and slipped into bed.
Fniff1 14:39, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie was tired. Very tired. Then he heard something about his Vault. "VAULT 85! RESTON USA!" He shouted behind his gag.
"Right, everyone get some rest. There are enough bunks for us all, even one for Georgie, but he'll spend the night in the closet, I wouldn't trust him...or myself...enough to leave him in the open. We'll get a quick breakfast, and set out no later than 0830. Good with everyone?"
Galahad received a round of nods and then he stripped out of his armor, putting on his relaxation clothes again before falling into his bunk and falling into peaceful oblivion within ten minutes. Kept under his pillow was his Combat Knife. Galahad trusted the majority of his company, but when in the Wasteland, one could never be sure....
Fniff1 14:58, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(Time for Dejan and Sam to enter the fray!)
Sam and Dejan was scouting around any and all useful items. Then they saw a rock. They went over to it and found out it was a door.
"Hmm..Magnet seals...We won't be able to get in." Sam said. "This place has to be inhabited. Who locked the door?" Dejan asked.
"Good point." they went behind the rock and Dejan did his best Enclave impersonation. "THIS IS THE ENCLAVE. IF YOU DO NOT COME OUT YOU WILL DIE IN A HAIL OF LASERS AND PLASMA. COME OUT." Dejan waited.
Down in the underground base..
"HEY!" Georgie shouted as hard as he could with a gag on him. Then he rocked closet as hard as he could..
Fniff1 15:05, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(Sam is going to run away when he hears or sees hale.)
"I don't know about you guys, but in my short experience with the Enclave, they usually don't give warnings, blow down doors if they want to enter it, and don't talk like a mentally retarded sponge." Jack got up, "Let's go check out who that really is."
Fniff1 15:15, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(Look up the loner and time flux project RP.)
Dejan tossed a land mine down in front of the hatch.
Fniff1 15:20, 3 May 2009 (UTC)(Innocent wastelanders don't know how to get in to a sealed hatch.)
8:00 1st May. 2272
Jet awoke as Conor's 'pip alarm went off. Hale seemed to be asleep, as did Galahad. Conor awoke, as the wrist computer was right next to his face. Jack was not there. Jet found Jack in the kitchen, eating. The robot was zooming about, cleaning. Jet felt sleepy. And hungry. He changed into his Leather armor, and collected his items. He poured a bowl of Sugar Bombs. Unfortunately, milk is a rarity in the wasteland, so he ate them with water. It tasted terrible. Like everything in the wasteland... Suddenly a loudspeaker could be heard. It was apparently the Enclave. And these guys though he was going to JOIN the Enclave. NOT GOOD. Hale opened up the hatch, and an explosion happened. Dammit.
"What the hell?" asked Galahad as he sprang up from his bunk, Combat Knife in hand.
"I agree. The Enclave are the remnants of the Government, not some special police force. They'd barge in and take what they wanted" piped up Jet, a pistol in one hand and a grenade in the other.
"MHMMMHHHHMMM!" screamed Georgie, from his closet.
"That is not the Enclave" said John, the Steel Bridge officer ready with his pistol.
Strauss, who had woken right when the first knocks were heard, and had left to investigate, came back.
"From the sounds, two males up above the rock-door. But your magnet seals will keep them ou--" started Strauss but just then a 'beeping' was heard.
Major Hale was the first to react. "Holy shit! They're priming an explosive!" and John sprang into action.
Hale climbed the ladder to the hatch three rungs at a time without using his feet once, in an impressive dispay of physical strength. But the second the hatch opened, he heard the beep of a proximity mine. He snatched it up and tossed it at a stranger standing back with a DKS sniper rifle. The mine detonated in mid air, givinh Hale a chance to land a running kick on the fool with the rifle. He saw movement to his left. He pulled his M1911 on. No, it wasn't. It was. That little runt scientist from New Mexico.
Fniff1 15:25, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
Sam ran off. Dejan scampered off in the other direction.
Hale froze as he flashed back to New Mexico.
The lights had gone out. People screaming. That order coming down the radioo. Hale winced, and fired. The nurse screamed and fell to the ground. The doctor next to her didn't have a chance. Hale shot her in the neck. He didn't need the double tap, but used it out of habit. The second bullet blasted the top of the poor girl's head off. He spun back, watching Fielding let two of them go. He shot them both without thinking. He reloaded, and executed another four as he stepped out of the room. All the screaming, the blood, lit up by the lights from the door and muzzle flares casting lunatic shadows. Hale shuddered
By the time Hale snapped back to reality, the two strangers were nowhere to be seen. He swore, loud, foul and impulsively.
Jet climbed the ladder. Hale was lay on the floor, shuddering. Why, about what, or how, Jet didn't know. He injected him with a stimpack, as that was the only way Jet knew how to heal people. Then Jet could only remember the sequence of events like so: Hale awoke. Hale swore. Hale hit Jet in the face. Jet fell down the ladder. Jet fell unconscious.
Jack saw Jet fall down the ladder. Walking over, he realized that Jet had fallen unconscious, and was out cold. Picking him up, Jack put him on his bed, and injected him with a stimpack. "How the fuck do he fall down a ladder."
Hale jumped. Had he just passed out? Shit. He'd been warned about nervous breakdowns after the shit he'd done in New Mexico. And now he'd lashed out on impulse and knocked Jet down the ladder. Hale slung himself back down into Galahad's little bunker,, hoping he wasn't having a nervous breakdown. He'd never been told the symptoms. He didn't feel like crying or curling up, but then everything did seem to be going in slow motion. Hale stopped as he reached the bottom of the ladder. Jet was a Wastelander. Why did Hale care?
Nonetheless, Jet had tried to help Hale when he thought he was in trouble, so Hale hefted him up off the bed and carried him into the kitchen, laying him out on the counter and immobilizing his head with a crude neckbrace made from a grenade box and a crutch, and then went about checking him for any sharp objects that couls have cut or stabbed him on landing. Nothing. He'd keep him immobilized for another while and stand by, just in case he had done some spinal damage with that fall.
Fniff1 16:05, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
That night,Dejan came back and laid down more land mines around the hatch.
Jets mind was a swirling mess. He could see those five scenes over and over. Non-stop. Suddenly, he was a freaky blue spiral. He awoke. His head was pinned down. His neck hurt a lot. And so did his nose. He couldn't speak. He was thirsty. He couldn't see any one. Maybe they abandoned him. No. If they had, they wouldn't have brought him here. They wouldn't have immobilized him, so he didn't damage himself more. He was confused. Why did hale hit him?
Jack was walking around, Jet was still unconscious, or not so much anymore. He was near the ladder, when he heard some noise. "Be right back guys". Jack went up the ladder, and opened the hatch. He shot the man planting the mines in the gut with a .44. Jack then closed the hatch, and went back down the stairs.
Fniff1 16:16, 3 May 2009 (UTC)
the idiot hadn't closed the hatch properly. Dejan threw a mini-nuke attached to a grenade down there.
Jack looked at the mini nuke falling down the ladder. It hit the bottom of the stairs, and nothing happened. "He does know that's not how nukes work, right?"
Galahad returned from the ladder area and saw Major John Hale working over Jet, checking the Wastelander for any injuries.
"Is he ok?"
"Yeah, he's fine. A nasty fall and he has a few bad bruises but nothing broken or sprained. If he still wants to help you...us...find the Enclave, and his own ethically correct group, he'll be able to. What's the time?" replied the Steel Bridge officer.
"8:00 am on the dot. They attacked just about...10 minutes ago" said Strauss, coming out of the bed area, his Pip-Boy strapped on.
"Ok, thanks. Galahad, I know you wanted to set out early, but I'd give Jet at least another hour or two to rest and recover. In the meantime, is there anyplace where I could grab a wash?" asked Hale.
"Actually, yes. As you said, this was a water waystation and there was a backup resovoir that I found a while back. It's limited water, but enough to see us all well and bathed. It's also fresh too, but don't drink from it. I've got bottles of pure water to pack" replied Galahad and he pointed the Major towards another tunnel, directly behind the kitchen.
When Hale had taken his wash, Galahad followed suite and a half hour later found the group, minus Jet and Georgie, at the kitchen table. "Alright, it's 8:45 now. We'll stay here till 10 am, so everyone get packed and ready. Hopefully Jet will be awake by then and he'll tell us if he wishes to continue our trek. Sound good?"
Strauss took a series of deep breaths as he tried to comprehend what had happened in the past few minutes. After the hatch had been shut and secured, he moved over to the Mini-Nuke. The grenade had done nothing to it. Those things were built to last, it seemed, at least until they were launched. Picking it up and weighing it in his hands, he deposited it on a nearby table and sighed.
"Right... sounds fine, yes." Strauss said, lowering himself into a chair. "Do you mind if I wash myself as well? I think I still stink of irradiated water," He continued, careful not to mention anything about piss.
"Maybe he's a numbnuts from the same vault as Georgie. Jet's not looking the best. Maybe we should pump a few more Stimpaks into him." Hale muttered. He picked up the grenade, holding the safety. At least the guy had the sense to pull the pin.Hale pulled a little bit of electricians tape from his pocket, and lightly taped the grenade's safety down. It had been cooking for so long it'd explode the second that safety extended. So he tossed it out through the hatch and stepped back. It exploded about five feet above the hatch, as expected, blasting Dejan backwards. Hale clambered back up the ladder, pinning Dejan to the ground before he could get back up, landing a set of vicious punches before the little runt could grab a hold of his balls. The last one knocked Dejan out cold. Hale signalled for the others to get moving on. Now that fuckhead and his friend from New Mexico knew where they were, it wasn't safe any more.
"Nhhh." Jet murmured. He was scooting in and out of levels of unconsciousness. Everyone sat at the table turned to the counter, expecting him to awake. He didn't, and drifted into a deep state of consciousness. His mind was dwelling on his megaton. He missed that place.
Hale rolled over, shooting out the ammunition hoppers of the few turrets, then rolled over, slamming his heel into Dejan's face before he could get back up. Then, he rolled again, and walked over to Sam.
"I should have killed you two years ago you pretentious little bug." Hale snarled as he blocked Sam's pathetic punch. However, he didn't notice Dejan moving up behind him, and clubbing him with a rifle until it was too late. Dejan and Sam ran away again.
Galahad watched Jet toss and turn on the counter as he finished putting on his red combat armor. Sliding his Assault Rifle into its back sling, a combat knife into his boot sheath and his custom 10mm pistol on his right thigh. A black utility belt was gird around his waist, holding stimpacks, mentats, and over twenty clips of ammunition for his pistol, while a backpack of the matching color was slung over his shoulders, carrying food, water, additional medical supplies and additional ammo for his pistol and assault rifle.
Looking around, the Wastelander saw his friends, he could call them that now, putting on similar backpacks and outfitting themselves for the journey. It was decided that they were going to head to Adams Air Force base, crossing one of the Metro lines, to begin their search for the Enclave there. After all...the place was military.
Finally, the company was ready and Galahad walked over to where Jet was still laying and gently shook him.
"Hey Jet...we're going to try and find your group now. You up for that?"
Hale had got himself fully geared up. He was carrying his M72 and M4 in a sports bag, and had his M1911 holstered under his left arm. His Ka-Bar was sheathed in the small of his back, and he had a Sawn-Off Pump Shotgun slung over his back under the bag. He was ready to go. All they needed now was to get moving. And hopefully avoid any fools that were running around topside. He nodded to Galahad to show he was ready to go. He knew where Adams Air Force Base. He had been there before. He was pretty sure the place was abandoned, a few local critters moving in notwithstanding.
Conor adjusted the straps holding a piece of armour in place before inserting a new Microfusion Cell into the appropriate socket on the side of his Laser Rifle, watching as the meter on the other side filled up again and then slinging it on its strap over his back. He had packed Worthington's storage unit with various items of food and medication liberally lifted from Galahad's kitchen, alongside several more Microfusion Cell. And he'd washed, and felt comparitively brilliant to how he had before. If only he'd done that the night before. He would have slept a lot better.
"Okay," He said to nobody in particular, "Right." He checked the time on his Pip-Boy. 09:53. They'd be leaving soon.
Jet awoke. Worthington had taken a reading. He had snapped a tendon near his spine. It'd take him months to fully heal. He would have to be careful. The 10 foot drop was sure dangerous. "Conor, can I use Worthingtons storage module? Carrying this stuff really hurts. And can I wear one of your Vault suits instead of this heavy leather? You can wear it if you want, I suppose." Jet rubbed his back. "Oww..."
"Oh... okay. Think I've got another spare one..." Conor said as he searched through Worthington's storage compartment yet again. Eventually he pulled out a foldied blue and yellow jumpsuit with the characters "94" printed on the back, and he passed that along with a pair of boots to Jet. "Here you go," He said, giving a lingering glance to the number as he handed it over. He had that on his back as well, underneath the vest he wore. He crammed Jet's original armour and his stuff into Worthington's compartment as he thought over how he'd get rid of that number. He wanted nothing to do with that place now. Finishing packing the robot's compartment, he closed it shut and turned back to the bomb-slinging Wastelander.
"You sure that'll be enough armour for you?" Conor asked Jet, sounding vaguely concerned.
"I can't exactly wear anything else, can I? Almost half a dozen frag grenades around me is almost too much already!" Jet hid slipped the Vault Jumpsuit on, as while he was unconscious, all he wore was his boxer shorts. "I'm ready. I guess..." Jet rubbed his chest. "I think I best get a snack first."
"Help yourself to anything you need, but take it with you. We're moving out" said Galahad and he led the way to the ladder and quickly climbed up. As soon as the others were topside, the Wastelander shut the rock-door and activated the magnet seals.
"Alright...where to?" asked Jet.
"Adams Air Force base. It'll take us a bit of time, so we need to move. We'll take the Presidential Metro Line, underneath the ruins of the White House" replied Galahad as the man began to walk towards the ruins of the Capitol.
"...that's in the heart of Washington" said Strauss. "Major Muties there" he continued.
"I know. If we move now, we'll only encounter some Mutants and we'll make it into the Metro by nightfall, which is when they really come out to play" explained Galahad.
"He's right...lets move" chimed in the Steel Bridge Officer.
As the company started their trek, the Mr. Handy known as Worthington chimed in. "Sirs, I feel obligated to inform you that you left the organic lifeform known as 'Georgie' in the Water Waystation X54"
"He's right" agreed Strauss.
Galahad and John shared a look and then looked at the Mr. Handy in unison and said "Leave him"
Strauss was just reciting something he'd heard in Moriarty's Saloon back in Megaton. He didn't know who Major Mutie was or what military he served in, but it sure sounded intimidating to him when he was drunk. And now they were leaving Georgie back in the Waystation. Shame. Conor still had a few questions for him. He didn't speak through most of the journey, simply engulfed in contemplative thought as he carefully followed the rest of the group.
"We can't leave him!" Jet cried.
"Why the fuck not?" Hale asked scornfully.
"It doesn't really work out the I am looking to join an ethically correct group to join, and then on my travels I leave a irritating waster to die." Jet plead.
"Well, we wasted stimpacks and rad-away otherwise. Plus, you guys could use him as bait."
"God...he's right. Alright, Jet, we'll go back and get him...but he stays in the front rank, civilian clothes only and his hands are bound" reasoned Galahad.
"Can we keep the mouth gag in?" asked Hale.
"Umm...I'd agree with you. But I really would like to ask him some questions" piped up Strauss.
"Ok, here's the deal. Hands are bound, he's in the front, and Strauss can ask him all the questions...however, he starts getting annoying, we gag him. Good?" said Galahad.
"God...I can't believe you fuckers are making me walk in the front. What am I, some sort of prisoner?" whined Georgie after nearly five hours of trekking.
"As a matter of fact...you are" said Major John Hale.
A few hours later, the little group was sitting down for a rest stop, with Strauss still quizzing Georgie, who, ironically, was starting to look very annoyed by the constant babble. Hale grabbed a hold of Galahad and dragged him off to the side, while pretending to have seena rare plant that he thought only grew at Steel Bridge. Galahad looked understandably aggravated at the idea that he was being dragged off to view some rare plant matter, and the rest of the group looked a little amused at his apparentl plight.
Once they were out of sight of the group, Hale spun Galahad around, pinning him face-first to the rock face they were nearby. Hale performed a quick weapon strip on Galahad, and pinned his arms just to be safe.
"I am Major John Hale of the 3rd Special Forces Platoon, Enclave Armed Forces. I don't know who you are, or why you want to meet the Enclave, nor do I really give a fuck, but I am a patriot, and if you so much as dream of thinking of fucking with my country, I will make you beg to die, do you understand me? Do you under-fucking-stand me?" Hale said, his voice dropping to a menacing snarl.
"So, what do you guy's think about Mr. BOS over there?" Jack looked at Strauss and Jet, who seemed to not know what he was talking about. "Guys, do you really think that half the shit he say's is true? I mean, he's too well trained to be BOS."
"Who are the Bee Oh Ess? What? Is that some sort of hip and happening Wasteland acronym?" Strauss asked as he flipped to a new page on his clipboard, glancing up at Jack expectantly as he kept his pencil at the ready. He was learning so much today before they even reached the Enclave!
"Strauss, the BOS are the Brother Hood of Steel. They're the power armored guys that give a warning before blowing your brains out, the Enclave don't."
"The Enclave... don't give you a warning? Oh, great Scott, that's terrible. But it's also tactically sound. Telling people you're going to kill them is a very bad move because it gives them time to react before you can kill them... yes, interesting. Hm. Let me get this down. What's Power Armor again?"
Galahad was pinned against the rock as John revealed his true identity. "Do you understand me?" the Major snarled again.
"Yes, Major, yes I do. And you have my word that I want nothing other than to join the Enclave, even if I have to enlist, and aide your country...which is also my country. On my honor as a man and hopeful to the Enclave, I swear this to you" replied the Waster and he fished a picture out of his pocket.
In the photo was a man in an Enclave Officer's uniform, with a young woman by his side. On the man's shoulders was a young boy, no older than four or five. Behind the trio, was an idling Vertibird.
"That's me, Major. The man is my father, Captain Axel and my mother, Kelsey Axel. My real name is Gregory Axel, but I took on the name Galahad when the Brotherhood of Steel found me in the Vertibird wreck that killed my parents. I want nothing more than to make my father proud and join the EAF. Now, not to be brash, but can you help me?" explained Galahad.
Major John Hale took a deep breath and collected his thoughts, then slowly let Galahad up.
"Power armor is the stuff that Galahad wears, it made of some sort of metal and supposed to be very strong. You ask a lot of questions, don't you?"
"You mean that red... stuff?" Strauss asked, jotting things down as he spoke. "No, I mean the armour he wore last night. Y'know, the one that actually looks like metal." Jack said, apparently getting rather annoyed now. It appeared that this unspoken feeling was at such an angle that it flew straight over Conor's head. "And yes, I do ask a lot of questions. Wouldn't you if you stepped outside for the first time and found a whole new world?" He rambled. Admittedly, he hadn't fired question after question to random settlers in Megaton over the past two months, but this fellow in the coat seemed to know a lot more about the Wasteland than any of those.
Hale blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. He scratched his chin and let Gregory regain his footing, before stating a few ground rules.
"You tell no one of this. If you breathe a word, I kill you, and I kill the others. I'll keep your little secret too, and throw them off the trail that we could be coming close to Enclave territory, ok?" Hale said. Gregory nodded. Hale, satisfied that the youngster had the sense not to yap on him, led him back to the group.
"I can't believe you don't find that interesting, Galahad." Hale said as they stepped back into the little building they were hled up in. "Steel Bridge is almost seven miles from here. Do you know how rare that shrub is in these parts?"
"Yea...I suppose I can't say that it's all bad. I haven't really had much experience with plants, rare or otherwise, John" said Galahad as he and the Major returned to the group.
"Come on, company, lets move out" he continued and the host moved on, with Georgie in his place, under interrogation by Strauss.
Finally, another hour passed and John called the group to a halt.
"Alright, we're in the heart of DC. Anyone got the time?"
"2:00," said a mysterious man that had just walked out of a building, with a small dog.
Hale raised his gun and pointed it at the newcomer, and then at his dog, and then back at the newcomer. Did that dog have a teddy bear mounted on a chair on its back? This guy was obviously mentally disturbed. Maybe Hale should just kill him and take that bear back to Carrie. Or bring the dog back to Carrie! That'd get him all kinds of extras.
"Who goes there?" Hale barked, his military tone leaking out as he spoke.
Riley was startled at this, how he was trying to be nice and now had a gun aimed at his head, people. "My names Alex," Riley said, "and I was just trying to help.."
Galahad's own 10mm pistol sprang to his hand, but when he saw that the stranger showed no signs of hostility, he lowered the weapon but never put it back in his holster.
"My name is Alex" said the Mysterious Stranger.
"Hi! My name is Georgie, the prisoner of these fucks! How are you today?" asked Georgie in a whiny voice. "As you can see, these fuc--ack!" the moron began to continue before John Hale's fist came across his face, sending the prisoner to the ground.
"The gag, Galahad" said the Major simply and he busied himself with cutting off Georgie's speech capability.
"Anyway, Alex, thanks for the time. What are you doing here in the heart of DC?" inquired the Wastelander in an attempt to draw the newcomer's eyes from the busy officer and his captive.
Hale finished gagging Georgie and helped him up as an apology for decking him. He dusted Georgie off, as the little Vault Newbie couldn't do so himself with his hands tied.
"I'm John Hale." Hale said to Alex as he turned away from an angry-looking Georgie. He holstered his pistol and extended a hand to the stranger. "Pleased to meet you, and sorry about the gun. Usually you get a lot of Talon Company Pricks around here."
"I'm... Owww..." Jet cried. Tears were streaming into his eyes. SO MUCH PAIN! Alex looked at Jet contemplatively. "J-Jet."
Jet sat down on a boulder. He was in a lot of pain.
Alexis Ashton bashed his way through another pile of ruble with his sledgehammer. He paused to check the seen on the other side,there were what looked like a pair of vault dwellers,a BOS Knight,2 mercs and a wastelander there was also a Mr handy robot.He turned round and remembered what he had been trying to bash through the rubble for.Super mutants were chasing him.He started running towards the group "Help me I'm being chased by Super Mutants!"
"Super mutants? No!" Jet turned to Galahad. "You said we wouldn't meet any if we went at nightfall!"
"No, I said we would meet less." Galahad frowned.
"CAN YOU STOP ARGUING AND HELP ME??" Alexis called.
Sure enough, 4 Super Mutants packed in tough improvised armour jumped off a rubble pile. One was armed with a frag grenade, another with a nail board, and the other two with hunting rifles. Jet injected himself with a stimpack, and threw a grenade at the weirdos. Hale snapped in a reflex action and shot the grenade of the grenade wielding mutant. Two explosions went boom. Galahad shot at the mutant with the Nail board.
"Mmphh!" Georgie cried. He had been shot by a hunting rifle.
"Oh my..." Conor croaked.
A thick burning smell suddenly could be smelt. It was Worthington. His flamethrower/blow torch had exploded, and ignited a few trees, and one of the Super-Mutant corpses..
Riley began shooting the mutants, while Cat began to growl. Alexis Fled behind the malfunctioning robot. He watched the fight. Two mutants down, the ones with the hunting rifles were the only ones left, pounding the group. After enough firepower, the remaining two fell. Conor went and grabbed a hunting rifle, as did Jet. What a surprising battle that was. "Georgie's been shot." Jet said. "I don't know how long he can last."
"Conor, Georgie, try not to take deep breaths. Those things still smell like burning humans when they go up in flames. You especially, Georgie, you've been shot and if you puke behind that gag, you might die." Hale said, with a slight undertone of frustration at another fool Wastelander joining them. He looked at Alexis, then pointed his M1911 at his head. The Wastelander seemed unfazed, but Hale didn't lower the weapon.
"Name, kid. And rank if you have one." Hale sighed.
"Alexis Ashton I'm a Historian, Scientist and medic. I also do odd jobs for Dr.Pinkerton and the rest of Rivet City"
"Right. Great, another squint to hang around with Strauss and Georgie. Alex, I hope you bring more boom to the table than the sledgehammer weilding history buff." Hale muttered as he turned to the Metro Station entrance. Gregory (everyone else knows him as Galahad) was standing there,fiddling with a lock on the chain link gate, trying to pick it. Hale put a hand on his shoulder and motioned for him to give Hale a shot at it. As Gregory stepped back, Hale shot the lock, and it fell harmlessly to the ground. Lucky break. Last time Hale had seen someone shoot a padlock like that, the lock had broken up into big nasty chunks of metal that flew around the room and smashed most of the lock-shooter's teeth.
Hale pushed the little gate open and ventured into the Metro Station. Strauss caught sight of a glass-fronted vending machine.
"Hey, guys! Guys! Does anyone have any snack tokens?" Strauss called as heran over to the machine, rummaging through his pockets.
Greg, Jet, Jack and Hale looked at each other. Hale sighed and walked over to the machine,and kicked through the safety glass fronting.
"Fuck snack tokens, Strauss, this is the Wasteland. You don't follow any laws or rules that you don't make yourself." Hale said, grabbing a few boxes of snack cakes and more chocolate than he'd probably need. The stuff was great survival food, with all that sugar.
Alexis walked over to the snack machine with them. He stopped and looked round the back, an old 09 model. He pressed 2 buttons on the back and the machine emptied the rest of its stock, that wasn't on show. "Viola!" He picked up a few cases of snack cakes and some Marshmallow's.
"Showoff." Hale muttered as he walked back to the other useful people.
Alexis grabbed his backpack and walked towards Hale "Hey, I don't suppose any of you have any ammo for a .44 magnum or .308 rifle"
"I sure as hell don't. I don't even have ammo from my .32 Cal pistol." Jet frowns at Georgie for wasting it. "I do have this hunting rifle though, and 4 grenades. Want some?
"Should we really be giving a techie historian explosives? Sure, he's handy for working vending machines when my legs get tired, but how do we know that he won't just blow us all up calling out names of people the grenade will be avenging after he's pulled the pin. And it wouldn't surprise me if he tried to pull the pin with his teeth." Hale said. Jet's good streak was going to put them all in danger. Shame Hale liked him, because if things got too dangerous on account of his humanitarian bent, Hale would have to kill poor "Boom-Boy". Who, ironically, was running out of explosives.
"Never mind" Alexis said as he spotted a table full of junk. He put his backpack down and pulled out Spitter. He opened the compartment and started loading it with junk. Pressing the condense button, it started to whir and click. "Excellent." He pulled the trigger and a chunk of metal flew out.
Conor looked at him in astonishment "What was that thing?"
Alexis looked up from hi backpack "It's a Hoover that I reversed the suction field on it, so that it blows instead of sucks. I connected to a compactor that runs off micro-fusion cells. So where are we headed?"
"You sure I cant give Hoover-Blow a 'Nade? He looks innocent enough. Besides. If he turns hostile... Well... He has a .44 magnum, which (Rolls perception check) he has 2 shots for." Jet looked at the newcomer, Alexis. "Anyway. We have a train to catch." Jet looked to Galahad. Galahad nodded. They went deeper into the tunnels. "CLAAAAGGGHHHHHH!" A strange glowing creature appeared. It looked like a shriveled up human. Like a raisin. It started throwing grenades. (It's a Feral ghoul Reaver, just so you know) It was soon downed by Jack, who had spotted it first. Jet went over to the body, and removed 2 frag grenades, and one plasma grenade...
"Hmm. What was that?" Conor asked. He put his pencil to his pad. He had a horrified look on his face.
"That, That was a Feral. A Ghoul. Its a sort of Mutated Human, from what friends tell me." Jet said thoughtfully. "Do any of you hot-shots know how they come about?"
"Ghouls occur when humans are exposed to large amounts of radiation, most of them are harmless, but eventually it can cause them to go insane and attack humans this is called 'Feral'" He checked the ammo level on Spitter "Lets be off, shall we?"
"Great, the Historian has the poor man's Rock-It Launcher. Won't he be an asset." Hale said, then reconsidered. "Does that thing only work with metals the compactor can crush or can it lob all sorts of things?"
Hale mused on that as he crouched over the Feral Ghoul's body. It was wearing army issue combat armor, and i had a grenade in it's hand. Hale stood up, hoping that these things didn't know how to use guns. The Senate and HighCom would never take that seriously, and they'd send men into deathtraps with Kamikaze grenade zombies.
"If its plastic or metal, it gets compacted. If its a grenade or explosive, it gets primed and launched."
"What if I cook the grenade before placing it in?" Jet asked. Jet cooked a grenade, and placed it in the spitter. The thing exploded. "Hmm," Jet put on an 'Accident' face. "Sorry."
"Well, you went and broke the new toy." Hale said. He was looking forward to getting to use that himself. Now, they'd presumably have to help the History Buff find new parts for his improvised gun. Which was pretty much a leafblower with some form of small press at the end. Hale scratched his chin as he considered where they could find such things.
"I really am sorry. But we must get going. There's no time to fix your cannon! We gotta get on this train! It leaves Platform 1 in 5 minutes!" Jet joked. He thought it was funny. Jet turned to Hale. He could see he was annoyed. He whispered, just loud enough for Hale to hear: "Like you said. We can't afford to leave him armed." Jet winked.
Hale shrugged. He had no idea why they were talking about getting on a train, seeing as how trains didn't run any more. He sighed and decided to go along with it, pulling poor Georgie around like a ragdoll as they moved to platform, to rail and back as they traversed the ruined station. With the exception of Galahad and Jack, Hale was the only one physically strong enough to drag Georgie around without slowing down. Jet could have done it too, if it weren't for his injuries, and Strauss might have been able to, but he was too well-mannered to do the necessary manhandling. Hale just assumed that the historian was weak because he took so long to bash through a crumbling concrete wall with a fourteen-pound sledgehammer.
"Aww. The zombie train's bust." Jet stared at the train on the platform line. He was really hoping to ride one, as well. "How are we goin' to pass?" He stared down the dark abyss. "We can't walk there. Not in this state. Well, I say we..."
Alexis took out the compactor and swaped it with one of the spares from his backpack. He was listening to Jet speak. "The train itself is undamaged. Its going down a slope so... If you give me a minute..." He climbed into the train and looked for the break override. "Ah-Hah, Everyone get on!" the train started to move slowly down the slope.
Alexis may be an egghead, but he forgot one thing. To check the rails. The rails had been snapped. Jet could only watch in horror as the train started to speed up, and rip across the broken rails. It flew off the track, and collided with the ceiling, caving the tunnel in, over the train. Luckily, only Alexis had boarded the train. Jet peered inside the wreckage. "*Choke* I told you it was bust, Mr. know-it-all egghead. Now you are trapped. Well done. Now take cover behind that seat. I'm going to blast you out of there." Jet took out a grenade, and placed it next to the caved in rock wall. He pulled the pin. He ran as fast as he could from the bomb, and watched as it tore through the wall of the train, and dis-lodged the rock. Alexis began to climb out. As soon as he was out, the train began to move again. Jet entered a compartment. "Get in!" He looked at the group. "I think it will be OK this time!"
Alexis stood up and dusted himself off "Next time I'll check the rails. Jet" Alexis sat down at the cab. Something weird was happening to the controls. "Jet! Come here! The controls are showing me that we are picking up power! I think whoever is at the end of this line knows were coming."
"Good. But why do I need to see it. I'm not a techie, I'm just very observant. But WHO is at the other end of the rail? And how long is the rail? I'd don't want another accident happening." Jet watched as Alexis studied a screen. While he was busy, Jet decided to go and show Hale the spitter, as he seemed to want to use it. He went back to the compartments, and handed it to Hale. After checking all the compartments, Jet decided to have a nap. He sure was tired.
"Let me have a look." Strauss suddenly chimed in, having been sitting in the corner with his robot and his Pip-Boy light for company so far. He walked over to the controls and stood beside Alexis while he looked over them. It occured to him that he knew nothing about Pre-War trains, but a little green bar on a metre was going up. "Alright, how are we going to get this show on the road, as it were?" With that, he gestured for his robot to hover on over and sat himself down in the cabin before getting to work on his blowtorch module.
6:37 AM 3rd May 2272.
The sun rose over the flat plains of the Adam's Air Force Base, just 6 minutes of tunnel away from an unlikely party of Wastelanders, coasting along on a train. Alexis had gotten little sleep during the journey, as for the most part, he was observing a screen. When he did get sleep, it was only for short periods. Worthington had been watching the monitor too, as he could be connected. Jet Sky had just woken up on the last bump, and was pouring himself a tin of Pork'N'Beans. Probably riddled with bacteria. What wasn't? He made sure to keep the tin. He could use that to make his specialized Hyper Grenade's, later. He heard a discussion between Conor Strauss and Georgie. "What do you mean your Vault didn't have any robots?" *Scribble Scribble*... So they, Or at least, Conor had un-gagged the whiny fool. Fantastic. Jet wondered what Hale thought of the Spitter, and was eager to get rid of this one as soon as possible, too. He hadn't seen Galahad or Jack, maybe they were talking.
Jet's back felt a little less bad today. Or at least, he thought it did... He had just finished his Pork'N'Beans, when suddenly, he say daylight at the end of the gloomy tunnel. Were they at the air base? Jet wondered why they were going to an Air-Base too. He didn't have a clue. And then something else occurred to him. Why was Alexis coming with them, and trying to help them? (As really, He hadn't been much help.)
Hale was busy going through his morning routine. 150 push ups, 150 crunches, brushing his teeth, chin-ups, and weapon maintenance. He had done the others over the past God-knows-how-long they'd been on the train as it lumbered along at walking pace, and was just finishing up his gun-cleaning. He reassembled his M1911, chambered a round, flicked the safety back on and holstered it. Then he put his XM8, M72 and Sawn-Off back in his sports bag, stood up and put his jacket back on. He really needed to loot a combat vest or some such from this air force base. He just felt odd without armor.
He grinned at Strauss annoying Georgie with his incessant questions, turning the tables on the pyromaniac runt. Jet seemed to be in some deep contemplative mood, staring into the middle distance, while Worthington was just hovering there. Like a giant floating golf ball.
Suddenly, the train came to a screeching halt. Jet rushed to the forward cabin. Alexis had done as he promised. He had watched the tracks. There were 4 plasma mines, just hovering on the rails, in front of the train. Had they been set up? Jet jumped through the gaping hole in the drivers cabin. He carefully approached the Plasma mines. Beep! Beep! Quickly, Jet disarmed the thing. They seemed to have a VERY short warning time. It'd be best to shoot them, instead. Much less dangerous. Luckily, Jet managed to take the mine without alerting the other four, and brought it into the cabin. Jet hadn't seen a plasma mine before, but he knew what it would look like. They were in a bit of a predicament. "What are we going to do?" Jet asked. "I can't disarm them all!"
"Jet, Pass me that mine." Jet complied and Alexis proceeded to check it over. "These are old mark 1 mines. Coner, pass me your Pip-boy." he grabbed the Pip-boy and started fiddling with the radio function, and galaxy news radio started up. "Now back to the matter at hand." He took another look at the mine. "Jet, do you have a pulse grenade?"
"Unfortunately not." Jet looked disappointed. He had wasted his Pulse grenade on an Eyebot. "What would you need it for?"
"Hey, Jet? You could disarm that first one, couldn't you?" Conor suddenly asked, emerging from the bowels of his thoughts. The Wastelander nodded, looking slightly confused. "Yeah?" Jet responded, "but I can't get near the others without setting them off." Conor glanced at Worthington, then back at Jet, and then gestured to his robot. "Can you run Worthington through the disarming process? I mean, his manipulator module may not be the most dextrous, but he hovers, so he won't trigger the mines by getting near them..."
"Might work. The reason I needed a grenade was because the detonator and explosive can be modified to produce an electromagnetic field. That field would prevent the detonator on Mk1 mines from activating" he turned back to the carriage "Anyone else have a pulse grenade?"
"No, that only works with Mk 1 frag mines. The sensor module on Plasma mines is shielded to prevent the ionized plasma from destroying the sensors on any other plasma mines. Good plan though. Worthington could pull this off. First time I've ever seen a bucket of bolts doing a job a man can't do just as well." Hale said. He was beginning to take a liking to these Wastelanders. If they had been Enclave citizens, Hale could have even become friends with them. Pity they were mongrel Wastelanders. Well, except Strauss, Greg and Georgie.
"Even if Worthington could deactivate the mines, how would we get him there? The hole I slid through wouldn't be wide enough." Jet thought hard. "Everyone clear the cabin. And give me back my Plasma mine." Alexis did as he was told. "Go on, get to the back!" Jet set a plasma mine in the cabin. He backed off to where the group was, and shot the mine with a hunting rifle. He wasted 2 shots, but it worked. the front of the cabin was blown off, but the other mines weren't. The train was still functional other than a huge gap in the front. Just big enough for a robot.
"Great Scott!" Conor cried, waving his arms in the air dramatically to reiterate the point of him being shocked. Briefly, he checked his groin for any sign of dampness. Phew. "Okay, Worthington, you can go through now. Jet, can you please tell him what to do?" Worthington hovered through the large gap, keeping his arms well away from the mines at this point, before Jet nodded. "Okay, so you need to press down on the central button thing first..."
After he had finished explaining, Jet ran to the back of the train, and hid from the explosion he thought was soon to come. He didn't trust that robot.
Worthington disarmed the first one with relative ease, liberally using his manipulator arm and his sawblade in disabling the explosive. After he had succeeded in doing away with the first one, he repeated the exact same process with no trouble on the others. After ten excruciatingly long minutes, there were four disarmed plasma mines beneath him. He scooped one up in his manipulator arm and tossed it to Strauss, and then seemed to tilt his chassis forwards in a gesture that vaguely resembled a bow. "Voila." The robot said. Strauss grinned. "Okay, Jet, you can come out now!"
Alexis stayed to watch Worthington disarm the mines. "Jet! Jet! You can come out now! The mines are gone and we are on our way." The train started off, and soon the team was at the Air base.
General Ibram Chase stood overseeing the deployment of his troups. This was his first assinment as a general. "Round up all the tech, squad" Ibram pulled his greatcoat around him. "Deploy a squad at the metro. I don't want any wastelanders disturbing us"
Jack was looking out the window, a group of Enclave soldiers were standing in front of the train. Hale told the driver of the train to stop, and Jack got out first. "Well, is there anything that you would like Mr. or Mrs. Enclave soldiers?" They pointed their guns at him, and one began to speak.
Ibram steped forward "My name is Ibram chase. You will surender your weapons in preparation for transport to an enclave detention facility"
As the train stoped Alexis looked out "Sweet Jesus these guys have Power Armour!
Jet was the last to exit the train. As soon as he did, it exploded, in a dazzling blast twice the size of a Mini-Nuke. This forced Jet to drop his Hunting Rifle, which he was holding above his head.
Ibram's Power Armour protected him but that was one hell of a blast. "Well done team. Now surrender your weapons, and prepare for experimentations"
"Sir, one of them appears to be unconscious, or dead." The soldier Turned to Ibram. "I think he may have been damaged by the blast."
"No offense Mr. Chase, but why would you do that? Were just a couple of dumb waste landers trying to intercept a raider party. Chase began to ask why, but was cut off by Jack. Well, they killed Georgies family over there. He was from a vault and everything to! We found him, huddling in a corner next to a rock. We've been trying to get revenge on those raiders, but the Enclave would be a much better place for a vault dweller then out here. In fact, now that our trains gone, we might as well head back home!"
Hale clubbed Jack and beat Alexis and Jet to the floor, before spinning under a clumsy attack from Georgie, who he caught with a Muai Thai knee strike to the chest. He then caught the handrail of the carriage door and used it to launch himself feet first at Strauss, who had been trying to climb back in the window. Worthington had already been subdued by the soldiers outside and was spinning his arms fruitlessly after the combat engineer disabled his servos.
Hale signalled for Greg to step out of the train with a curt hand gesture. He then knocked Greg out too. He turned to the shocked soldiers and showed them his dogtags.
"Major John Hale, 3rd Special Forces Platoon. Rangers lead the way." Hale said with a smile. The soldiers then went about picking up the Wastelanders and transporting them to the base proper.
"Be careful with him. His father was one of ours, his mother too. I want him checked for genetic compliance and debriefed. If I find him with so much as one bruise, I'll make sure you're cleaning latrines for the rest of your carreer." Hale said to the man who was picking Greg up. "By the way, nice to meet you again, General, I believe a congratulation is in order" Hale added, extending his hand.
"And the same to you Major Hale.Well done" Chase Grasped hales hand."You said two of them are pure breeds?"
(Still-)Corporal Carl Fielding grumbled something incoherently about Chase. They should have shot these Wastelanders on sight. They were certainly a lot more threatening-looking than civilian scientists. He knelt down to pick up an immobilised Vault Dweller, one who was wearing some sort of armour over his jumpsuit and carrying a Laser Rifle, and then slung him over his shoulder in a fireman's handle. "How's the robot fairing, Rico?" He asked casually as the squad's combat engineer worked. The PFC glanced over his shoulder at Fielding momentarily. "Managed to disable its primary arm servos with a small-scale Pulse charge. Should be able to patch 'em up if needs be," Rico responded, patting the Mr. Handy firmly on the upper base of the chassis. The robot was rather comedically flailing its limbs, like something out of one of those Pre-War children's cartoons Andy liked so much. Fielding nodded, glanced at the rest of the soldiers as they picked up the Wastelanders, then looked towards Chase and another soldier he recognised. Huh. Gang's all here.
"Corprall Fielding, get a Gene Scan done on the wasters. If any of them are pure-breeds, make sure I am the first to know."
Hale smiled. Corporal Fielding. He remembered what he had, or more accurately hadn't done in New Mexico. But that was going in Hale's back pocket for a rainy day. Maybe when Fielding got a promotion and started stirring the pot or rocking the boat or some similar metaphor. Not that he could touch Hale anyway. Hale outranked him by a significant margin and being their new favourite toy, he had the Senate at his back too. But just in case, he had something to hold over his little compatriot in case internal politics got out of hand.
He moved up alongside Fielding and that Rico bloke. He nodded to Fielding, and then grinned as he noticed that he was still a Corporal. He then gave him a hand carrying Strauss.
Fielding nodded and saluted. "All yours, Corp," Rico said as he reached into his supply pack and pulled out a rather clunky object with a handle and a screen on one side. Fielding passed the Vault Dweller he was carrying to Hale and caught the device as Rico threw it. He turned it on with a dial on the side and held it over the Dweller for a moment, then nodded as the screen flashed green. He then moved over to another of the Vault Dwellers (Georgie) and repeated the process. Something anomalous, the screen annotated, but it flashed green yet again. More scans would be done back at the base. He then moved onto the Wastelander in the dickhead-ish poncho and ran it over him. A yellow. After this, he ran it over another of the Wastelanders. Another yellow.
Hale had said the man in the Combat Armor was one of theirs, and the only other Wastelander there was wearing a Vault suit, so both of them were pretty much self-explainitory. "Four greens, and two yellows, sir. Further orders?"
"Have the green's sent to a rerouting facility they can join the EAF or go to a green zone.Have the yellows taken for forced labour"
Alexis woke up in the midle of the gene scan "hey thats a mk 2 gene scanner with non-standard modifications"
Jet woke up to a strange, whirling machine, buzzing around his head. There were glowing lights all around. "Chudda Chudda Chudda" He could see a strange orange syringe being inserted into his arm. He seemed to be in a liquid of some sort, a yellow liquid, which prevented him from moving. He had some sort of mask on his face, with a nozzle coming out, and going towards the ground. He felt a little hazy. A man walked over, and pressed something on a sort of pedestal. Suddenly, some sort of non-harmful laser appeared, which was aiming for his eye. He really wanted to shut it, but he couldn't.
"Uhhh..." Gregory Axel, known to his company as Galahad, stirred from his forced sleep and looked around. He was lying on a metal counter in a wide room with windows far above him. On one of the walls, a faded United States Air Force symbol could be seen.
Must be at Adams Air Force Base thought Gregory. He was stripped of his combat armor and weaponry and clothed in only his tan shirt and slacks.
Just then, the man heard a voice far off...two voices actually.
"Well, Corporal? Tell me the results, though I bet I already know" said the first voice.
"Major, as you said, and as he claimed, he's a Green. Must have been born on a base" replied the second.
"Is he awake?" asked the first again.
"No, sir, but he's coming around. May already be up by now" answered the Corporal.
Two figures walked into Greg's line of sight, and the first was Major John Hale and the second was in the new Incinerator Power Armor, the Corporal that John had been talking to presumably.
"Well hello, Greg. Did you have a nice nap?" asked the Major, extending a hand.
Hale walked around the counter-thing, an almost angry look in his face. He sighed and ran his hand along a tray of tools lying next to the counter. Just surgical instruments. This was the makeshift Med-Centre after all. It also made an excellent torture chamber. All of the counters and beds had restraints to keep disturbed patients still, or to kep suicide risk patients from hurting themselves. The thick walls kept most sound in or out, depending on your position. But Hale wouldn't be using this place for it's alternate purpose. He was here to find out what Greg knew about the Wastelands, the Wastelanders, and most importantly, the Brotherhood.
"Follow me please. Don't worry about Corporal Fielding, he's here as a formal precaustion, nothing more." Hale said, ignoring the presumably annoyed look Fielding was shooting him from under that helmet. (Professional Rivalry in the making here). He and Fielding led Greg down a hallway to a small room with white tiled walls, like a shower room. He could see where the taps had been plastered over. There was just one master tap over by the wall. The shower heads were all intact. And there was a table, with three chairs, one on one side, two on the other, in the middle of the room. Greg gulped.
"Don't worry, we haven't had a prisoner who warranted turning those showers on in a while." Hale said, implying that at least one prisoner had been beaten so severely that the showers were turned on to wash away the blood. Greg shuddered at the thought. Hale indicated that Greg sit down on the single chair, while he sat down on one of the other two. Fielding stood at the door, while Hale sat back in his seat as if waiting for someone.
Ibram walked into the room flanked by his guards. He pulled up the chair next to Hale.
"Mr Axel my name is General Ibram Chase. You are to tell me everything you know about the CWBOS and then we will consider what to do with you" Chase said matter-of-factly.
Well, whoop-dee-fuckin'-doo. It seemed that after Hale got his officer's commission from the Senate, he'd turned into a jackass. Or maybe he was a jackass to begin with, and it was only shining through now he had authority. Fielding stood there with his back at the door, his M72 held across his chest for purely aesthetic reasons (that was how he'd been drilled to hold his weapon when he was guarding a door, after all). The new Power Armor he'd been issued upon being posted at Adams made this a surprisingly comfortable stance to hold. He lowered his rifle to his side and saluted Chase as he entered, before he was joined at the door with one of the General's guards, the other one standing behind his chair as he sat down. He observed and listened to the conversation with passing interest as he reassumed his stance.
Greg watched the General, Ibram Chase, walk into the room. He was dressed in similar Power Armor, but a great coat over the suit. "Mr. Axel, I am General Ibram Chase. You are to tell me everything you know about the CWBOS and then we will consider what to do with you" Chase said matter-of-factly.
"Very well, sir. I will tell you what I know, and that knowledge is useful, as I lived with the Steel for...fourteen years" replied Axel.
Ibram merely nodded and waited, leaning back in the chair.
"You have no interest in my personal story I'm sure, beyond the fact that a Vertibird malfunction killed one a great man, Captain Axel of the EAF Infantry. I was the only survivor of that wreck. For nearly a day, I stayed huddled up inside the wreckage until a Brotherhood of Steel squad found me and brought me to their Citadel, which is the Pentagon. I was indoctrinated in the ways of the Brotherhood because the Elders, the current Elder is Elder Lyons" began Greg and he saw with some satisfaction that Corporal Fielding had been ordered to take notes.
"Continue, please" prodded Ibram.
"Their strength numbers just around two hundred fully trained members, Knights and Paladins, when all assembled forces are present at the Citadel, that includes patrols, and roughly another fifty or so Recruits, called Initiates there as well as seventy-five Scribes of their Orders, the Scroll, Shield, and Sword. They have an impressive display of pre-war armaents, including T-4x Power Armor, their main uniform, and Laser Rifles, Pistols, grenades, etc. However, no plasma weapons are used by the BoS, sir"
"Very good. Now, can you tell me about their units? Patrols, infantry, etc?" asked the General.
"I can sir, to an extent. The Brotherhood in the Capitol Wasteland actually has an impressive organization. The Recruits are kept in the Citadel at all times, sir, training, except for a very few promising ones. Fully trained warriors, Knights, and Paladins, are assigned to patrols and platoons. Most are designated by number only, such as CI41I, meaning Capitol Wasteland 41st Infantry. The only named squad are their elite Shock Troopers, the Lyon's Pride, headed by Sarah Lyons, the Elder's daughter. These are a small, roughly 6 or 7 count squad that handle Special Operations for the BoS" finished Greg.
"Hmm...interesting, thank you, Mr. Axel. Major Hale will now be your host here" said Chase after a long silence, rising from the table and taking the notes from Fielding before departing the room.
As Ibram left the room he guestured to fielding."come with me one of the wasters displays unusual inteligence.".
Alexis looked up from his cot to see a man in a generals greatcoat enter flanked by a man in power armor.He turned to jack "know what this is about?"
Fielding nodded, saluted, turned and left with Chase, walking behind him as the General led him through the facility. "Unusual intelligence, sir? A Wastelander? Intelligent? Huh. There's a surprise. Who is it?" Fielding said sarcastically, illiciting a brief laugh from Chase. "Quite. He's the one who identified the Gene Scanning Module you were using back at the metro station - the one who's skull you nearly crushed under your boot, Corporal." Chase said, his tone rapidly becoming level and stern after the laugh to the point where Carl felt like he was recieving disciplinary. "I'm sorry about that, sir, but he woke up unexpectedly. He hadn't yet been restrained or unarmed so I had to subdue him through other means." Fielding told the General, his head bowed slightly. "I'm not drumming you out on it, Fielding. Now, here we are," The General tapping a code into a terminal and a door in front of them opened. The two of them walked into the room, where the one Fielding had kicked and the one in the poncho were restrained in.
Chase entered the room "this is the waster,He calls himself alexis ashton fielding i want you to set a series of chalanges for the waster to complete.I think it should tell us wether hes inteligent or not"
"Challenges?" Fielding sputtered quietly, astounded. He was a soldier and he was being assigned to run a gameshow for budding Wasteland intellectuals? With a heavy sigh, Fielding quickly thought up a first challenge. "How many fingers am I holding up?" The reluctant host asked as he flipped the bird at Alexis.
"I have a question, do you realize that what you are going to do to my friend here is pointless, as you assholes are just going to kill him anyway? By the way, do I get my own torture sequence or do we get the same one, because I need to change my Will accordingly. Also, your holding one."
"To address your first point, mutie in the poncho; yes, the logic on that does dawn on me now. However, I have my orders and I intend to carry them out. And torture? Now you're making us sound like Pre-War holofilm villains. You'll be shot in the back of the head and you'll like it." Fielding explained condescendingly, linking his hands behind his back. "That question was not directed towards you, but I feel astounded that you were capable of answering it correctly. Now," The soldier trailed off as he walked towards one of the terminals at the wall. "I should be able to bring up a basic IQ test from the scientific mainframe. Multiple-choice, presumably. I will read out the questions and you're going to answer them." Fielding began to tap at the keyboard, before adding something under his breath. "Oh God, I hope Andy doesn't see me doing this, he'll lose faith in his dad forever..."
Fielding began to read off the questions and Alexis answered them to the best of his ability. Within 20 minutes he was done. Chase looked at the test results "sweet jesus fielding this guy has an IQ not much lower than mine!"
"What? Are you kidding me?" Fielding asked, aghast at the very concept. This was very disconcerting indeed. How could a mutie be almost as smart as a pure human? Shit, how could a mutie be smarter than him? That wasn't what he'd been brought up to believe... Pushing his thoughts to one side, Fielding spoke up again. "What are we going to do with him then, sir?"
"I say we fry him," a woman in Black Ops armor said from behind them, "Fine, grill?" the men looked very confused. "Sorry, instinct of what I do to wastelanders!"
"No, No. It's perfectly fine for you to capture random wastelanders and torture, experiment, and execute them after wards. That's how you get a country going, not unite the people, but murder in a shitty fashion."
"Nah, I just kill them on the spot. Of course, after I burned them at blinding temperatures."
Fielding frowned as he recognised the woman's armour. Great. Just what we need. "State your name and rank immediately. What are you doing in here? Who granted you clearance?" He barked, staring daggers at the woman through the lenses of his helmet.
"Master Sergeant Karen Alan, Black-Ops," she said to Fielding, "Fielding, I was sent to make sure nothing bad happened."
"Well, that sounds extravagant, another Jack ass Enclave officer, if one wasn't enough?" The women started to speak, before Jack leapt up, still bound in the chair. Tackling the black ops agent, he swung the chair at fielding, knocking him to his feet. He quickly grabbed Fielding's now dropped gun, and shot both of the soldiers in the knee caps. They wouldn't be leaving any time soon. Then, cutting Alex's restraints, he started to leave. "Were going to try to get out of here come on, were going to where they hold armor." As they left, he felt a large heat wave from the room, but he quickly forgot about it, as it didn't matter. Luckily, the power armor room was right next door, and they soon adorned themselves in some shotty stuff, probably straight from the factory.
Karen quickly got up, the bullets he had shot at her were lodged in her armor, luck. She ran after them, and when she found them she grabbed a chair to the right of her and threw it at the distracted wastelander (aka, Jack). It hit him right in the back of the head and knocked him out for a minute, she then ran to the other one, "Alex", the files said, and quickly brought him to the ground and began to set up a fire.
"And how would you describe your weaknesses?" Hale said, conducting some form of convoluted job interview on Greg. And he had just asked the question any job applicant dreads. Then he heard alarm bells. Not the metaphorical alarm bells you hear when something feels wrong, the alarm bells that go off in buildings when something is wrong. He stood up, throwing off his officer's greatcoat in a dramatic fashion, revealing his Enclave BlackOps Armor.
"Stay here, Greg. The guard will get you out of here if the shit hits the fans." Hale said before running to the door, talking to the guard outside, and then sprinting off towards the rooms where the other prisoners were being interrogated, activating his armor's Stealth Field as he went.
How the hell couldn't his M72 have penetrated armour at that range? That was both relieving and insulting. Fielding grunted and got back up unscathed, pulled out his sidearm and continued, leaving the room quickly. Fortunately they were right next to the armoury as well so he came back out with a massive Electron Charge Pack mounted on his back and a Gatling Laser in his hands. He then locked the armoury behind him, depriving Jack and Alexis of further armaments beside his M72, which only had eight rounds left in its magazine anyway. Hah.
"What the fucking hell man! You don't throw chairs at random people, it's not nice! The man took his helmet off, and it turned out to be a random Enclave soldier. The woman left the room, and the search for them started. (Going to have to find us! And you have to catch us in the act of removing armor, or yell at people till they remove the helmet!)
Karen was outraged, she hit the wrong person, when she swore she seen the two run in here, "Sorry," she said, and then ran away to guard the one exit out of this district. (Owned)
Jack and Alex were walking towards the door. The woman had came out, apparently hitting the wrong man. He used the card he pick pocketed off the woman earlier to open the door, and locked it behind him. Hearing the woman knock on the door, and try to open it furiously made him feel a little better. "Alex, we can either get out of here with Strauss, Jet, and the others, or just leave now. What do you suggest?"
Karen was yelling at the door, and then realized that she could easier melt it! She melted the door and seen two people talking about the prisoners and leaving, and threw the melted door at them. (No way out now, she KNOWS it's you!)
The voice of General Ibram Chase resonated over the base's intercom system and from loudspeakers mounted on walls on the external perimeter. "The base is hereby put on lockdown until further notice. Posted and patrolling guards are informed that all individuals moving throughout the base are to remove their helmets on request and provide adequate identification. If an individual fails to oblige or fails to provide adequate identification, I hereby authorise aforementioned guards and indeed, any legitimate soldiers of the Enclave to shoot them on sight."
Karen spoke into the intercom to Chase, "I caught them, they are currently boiling under a melting door, I'm in Sector A-2, west entrance."
Gregory Axel stood by his guard in the Interrogation room. "So...what model is that Power Armor?" asked the former Waster, trying to keep calm as the alarm klaxons blared throughout the base.
"Hellfire Power Armor. New model" answered the guard in a quick tone. His Laser Rifle was cradled in his hands, ready for action.
"Ok, do you know what is going on with the alarms?" prodded the Enclave Hopeful.
"Something to do with an escaped prisoner"
After nearly five minutes of silence, Greg spoke up again.
"Ok, is there anyway I can help?"
"The Major said to keep you here and get you out if the 'shit hits the fan'" the Guard replied.
"Listen, I know. But I need to prove myself to the Enclave, yes? I know I told General Chase information, but that doesn't show them what I can do in combat. Let me help, let me show how bad I really want this..." pleaded Gregory.
The Guard stared long and hard at Axel before sighing and motioning for the Waster to follow him. The pair went deeper into the shower room and to a steel locker where the Guard input a code and the doors opened, revealing a set of Hellfire armor along with a Laser Rifle and extra charging packs.
"Here's the deal. You take the armor and help the Enclave only! However, you leave the helmet here and attach this to your armor's breastplate" ordered the Guard, taking a green piece of cloth and plastering it onto the armor.
"It lets our people you know you're on our side, but not a member of the EAF...not yet anyways" answered the guard, helping Greg get suited up. Finally, he was ready and he picked up the rifle, putting charging packs in it and priming it for combat. Thanking the guard, Axel left the interrogation block, fully armored sans the helmet and ready to prove his worth to Ibram Chase, John Hale, and the rest of the Enclave, in a way other than just being the child of an Officer.
The intercom next to Karen fizzled as Chase responded. "Excellent work, Master Sergeant Alan. Excuse me for a moment." The intercom fell silent, then speakers all around the base became loud once again. "All military personnel on the A2 sector excluding posted door guards are to make their way towards the west entrance. The insurgents have been located." Around that sector, soldiers made their way towards that door in particular. Fielding hefted his Gatling Laser along as he turned one corner after the other.
In Sector A1, Strauss was being briefed on the situation by a rather friendly scientist until the alarms began to ring. They abruptly left him there, wondering as he listened to orders being given to execute his comrades. Georgie had been sedated after throwing a fit after realising he was in an Enclave base and Jet was still being "processed". Strauss tugged on his surprisingly comfortable restraints.
Jack and Alex now had 20 Enclave soldiers aiming guns at them, and they were both stuck underneath a melting door.
Gregory Axel was walking through the corridors, flanked by another random soldier he had encountered. The two were on patrol together throughout Adams Air Force Base when General Ibram Chase's voice came to life over the loudspeakers, reporting that they had found the insurgents.
The other soldier that Greg had been with started running to Sector A2 but stopped when he realized Axel wasn't following him.
"Come on!" he shouted.
"Does that announcement include me?" asked Greg.
"Hmm...you're not a soldier, but you want to join the Enclave, so I don't see why not. Come on!" reasoned the soldier and Greg smiled and took off running after the soldier.
Jack and Alexis were both slammed into opposite sides of the corridor, and then face-first into each other as they stumbled away from each other. Then with a practiced movement of his hands, Hale disengaged the locking mechanist on their helmets and pulled them free. Both Wastelanders were groggy, until Hale hit them with their helmets, sending them to the floor. Hale then deactivated his Armor's Stealth Field as Alexis and Jack began to lose consciousness.
"And that, my puny-minded erstwhile friends, is how we do things in the Enclave." Hale quipped to the unconscious bodies before ordering them to be taken to separate cellblocks, at different ends of the base, and to the cells without windows or exposed pipes. Everyone knew that those particular cells were used to house deranged captives, and had dirty-great steel doors too. Well, Jack and Alexis didn't, but they'd soon find out.
Jet watched as the liquid drained from the chamber. His guard had gone. The machine had stopped. The Scientist had gone too. He could see another tank. Inside was Conor Strauss. He was waving his arms about from inside the small glass tank. Jet could see what the Label said on the tank. "Drugging Tank. Caution, only use non-harmful drugs; Psycho banned, especially." Conor was banging on the glass. He obviously didn't feel dizzy, as Jet did. He could see how Conors tank still had a small bit of the strange, orange goo. Jet soon realized why his tank had been emptied: It had a tiny crack in it, and on the floor, was a giant puddle. Conors had a crack too, but a bigger one, probably due to forcing it. How did both of the tanks conveniently get cracks in? Then it dawned on him.
All twenty, now twenty-one, Enclave soldiers watched Major John Hale's impressive stealth attack display, knocking out the two impostors with grace and ease. He looked around and snapped his fingers.
"You and you! Take these puny-minded Wastelanders to seperate holding cells, opposite sides of the base!" ordered John, pointing at two Enclave enlisted.
As Hale looked at the soldier's again, he saw Gregory Axel and his face flashed with anger. He disobeyed a direct order thought the Major. Then, clarity came to him. Money plays that he only wanted to help. Very well, I'll make he's glued at my hip, so he can help and be watched reasoned the Major.
"The rest of you, back to your posts. Remember the base is on full lock-down. Axel, come with me" bid Hale and the assembled disperesed and Greg followed the Major.
"Where are we going, sir?" he asked after many minutes had passed in silence.
"To check on the others. Something doesn't feel right..." answered John, drawing his pistol as he went. Following suite, Greg primed his laser rifle.
Someone had broken the tank. One of the other prisoners. It couldn't be Strauss, as Jet could see Strauss. It probably wasn't the techie, as he seemed weak, might explain why there were little cracks, and not freedom, though. Whatever happened, some unknown benefactor had helped them. But who? It didn't matter who. Someone had helped him, and he wasn't going to look the gift 'horse' in the mouth. He was going to break the glass, escape, and go home. He hated having to kill to survive. He hated 'Survival of the fittest'. And he hated being injured. That was the only set-back. He may not be able to break out.
Fniff1 21:55, 5 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie woke up. He was at a desk. It was very dark. "How did you get out of the failed experiment that was Vault 85?" Someone said.
"I....I just...I escaped while the enclave were ransacking the place for supplies." Georgie replied.
"I opened the vault door."
"....54 x 45,what is it?"
Georgie shivered. "..24....30...2430..."
"Tumblers Today. Chapter 6. First Sentence."
"......Wars and Evil...Chapter 200. 67th sentence."
"........Evil...Will...Never...Die...Unles...sss....We....Try......" Georgie hated being used. It was a hallow feeling. He began to cry. "'Sniff'.....To make a better world....'Soft crying...' "
"Georgie first" said John, the Major coming to a door and keying in a code. The control pad lit up green and the door whooshed open, revealing a dark room with a steel table in the center. Behind the table was a slumped form. Gregory realized that it was Georgie, that incessantly wining Waster they had found at the beginning of the journey.
- Greg and John hear the crying*
"Good god, the little kid is crying" muttered John.
Axel merely shook his head disgusted and listened in on what Georgie was mumbling
"Evil will never die unless we try...evil will never die unless we try..." the kid repeated that sentence over and over again till John gave the signal that he had had enough.
"Come on, Axel, on to see Jet Sky and Conor Strauss. I wasn't getting the bad vibe from Georgie, so it has to be them. Lets double-time" ordered the Major and the two set off down the hall, weapons in hand.
"Evil will never die unless we try." Hale sneered. "There's no good or evil. Just right and wrong, which are totally subjective."
Hale shrugged and moved on from Georgie's room. Greg stood there for a second contemplating Hale's words. Deep. But words like that only came from someone who was doing wrong. Hale kept his weapon drawn as he approached Conor and Jet's room, he had a bad feeling that they may not be as subdued as they should be. He stepped into the room and saw the sedative fluid pooling on the floor, with Conor and Jet standing inside their cracked glass cells. Hale sighed. He should have pushed for the force-field ones like what they had in Raven Rock.
Jet watched as Hale entered the room, followed by Galahad. He scowled. They had betrayed him. It almost made him feel stronger. It gave him a rage. He forced himself out of his glass cell, and punched Hale in the face, momentarily staggering him. (FYI, They had given Psycho to Jet, unlike what the label says. ^^) He ran off. Both of the soldiers where staggered. Soon, a tranquillizer dart found itself piercing Jets fragile flesh. He was chained into a special area with a guard watching 24 hours a day, until the drugs wore off.
Fniff1 21:02, 6 May 2009 (UTC)
2 hours into the morning.
A scientist came in. "Time for sedation,vault dweller." Georgie decided. No more oppression. No more controlling. Georgie punched the scientist in the face. The scientist pulled out a Laser Pistol but he was a little too late. Georgie kicked him in the face. The scientist fell down. Georgie took the laser pistol and finished him off. He then ran out of the cell. This raised the alarm. He saw a air vent and broke into it. He he swore as he realised it was too narrow to crawl through. He was in serious trouble now, dangling halfway into a ventilation duct.
Strauss had a sheepish look on his face, stuttering out incoherent questions as Galahad and Hale netered the room. "What? What? What the hell? Where... wha..." His speech lost all resemblence to the English language soon enough, and he degraded into whimpering, oblivious of all what happened around him.
Fniff1 21:20, 6 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie managed to climb up. He sneaked around til he found the Dresser. There was a guard,but he was easily taken out by a laser shot. He found a Repairer's suit. He went over to the main power saying the officer's wanted him to check out the power. He got in and pulled the power.
Hale rubbed his nose. That rat bastard Jet had sucker-punched him! He was lucky it was the squints with their tranquilizer got him. If Hale had made it to him first, well, Hale's own form of tranquilizer consisted of large amounts of concussion and possibly a coma. Hale watched Strauss having what appeared to be a panic attack in his tank, while the alarms went off back towards Georgie's room. Then, everything went dark. Then, a few seconds later, the emergency generators kicked in, lighting up the base again. Meanwhile, Georgie had been beaten up by the guards, who had put two and two together and copped on that the guy in the power mainframe had cut the power. He was already being transported back to his cell.
Fniff1 21:33, 6 May 2009 (UTC)
A techintion came and looked into the power generator.He went in and went out.
"This guy didn't do a half assed job. We need to fix the generator. Thing could start a fire at any moment..." He said and looked at the generator.
Jack was being tortured currently, they assumed for some odd reason that he had "Information". It was just an excuse to play around with toys of course, and they had given them to the craziest mother fucking scientist in the building. He never even asked questions, just tried to make Jack suffer. Today how ever, would be quite different. There was only one guard on duty, and he had weakened what ever strapped him onto the table. Some sort of leather, this was a makeshift torture room of course.
The scientist gleamed with joy, he seemed to have something new today. A syringe, filled with a clear liquid, with a very long needle. Walking over, he put it near Jacks throat, threatening him with it unless he gave up "The Information" or whatever the hell it was or is. Jack then broke the left strap, grabbed the syringe,used it cut his other strap some how, then killed the scientist. Having done that, he jumped the guard, broke his neck, and killed him in one fluid motion. And to think, he thought that he would never have to use that trick. He dragged the guard inside the room, and removed the armor. Dragging the bodies over to a locker, he stuffed them in there, and went on his merry way.
"Sir, are you alright?" asked Gregory, checking on his unofficial CO.
"I'm fine, Greg. Listen, I want you to go check on Jack. Stop by the armory, get yourself a helmet and laser pistol as well as a short blade. I want you fully armed for him. He's dangerous...very dangerous, beyond hardened Wastelander. BE CAREFUL" ordered the Major.
"Yes, sir" Axel responded, taking the key card that Hale held out to him and running off.
Ten minutes later, Gregory Axel walked into where Jack was being held...and what greeted him was a broken chair and a dead Enclave Scientist.
"Son of a bitch!" muttered Greg, his voice coming out metallic-like through his helm.
Crossing over to a intercom, Axel hit the red alert button and put out a message via the loudspeakers.
"Attention members of the Enclave. This is Gregory Axel, I am working on orders of Major John Hale, 3rd Special Forces Platoon. Be on alert that one of the Prisoners captured with my party has escaped from Interrogation room 47X and his potentially dangerous. Thank you" with that said, Greg clicked off and primed all of his weaponry before leaving the Interrogation room. Time for the hunt.
Jack was walking down the corridor, donned in his newly equipped hell fire armor. He was thinking of destroying this places stockpile of it, to make sure that these bastards wouldn't be invading the wasteland anytime soon. Walking past the interrogation room again, that meant he was walking in a circle. He noticed the man who wished to join the Enclave, Greg was it? Waving to him, Jack tried to disguise his voice, it wasn't that difficult with the power armor aiding him. "Look man, I saw a prisoner walk into that room. I think he is trying to escape, although if we set off the alarm he might try and get away in there, or set a trap. So, I need you to do me a favor, by watching my back when I charge into the room." Greg nodded, and opened the door for Jack. Jack walked in, and saw the ventilation duct, open on the floor. "Looks like he already escaped man, well see ya!" Jack walked out, making sure to pickpocket Gregs ID for opening doors, and lock the door behind him. Greg started banging on the door, but Jack was already long gone, and with no witnesses to the act, except for the Black ops soldier near the door. But Jack took care of him with a shot the head, and dragged him in the interrogation room.
"Damn it!" said Greg, pounding on the door. He then tried blasting the door with his laser rifle, to no avail. Seeing the open airducts, he went up to them, but then realized he would be stuck if he went through with his Power Armor. Quickly taking it off, he put in the ducts ahead of him and pushed it along as he slid along the shafts.
Coming into a common area, Axel pulled out his AEP7 and blasted the bolts holding the grate in place, sending the Power Armor and wanna-be Enclave member down with it. Thankful that no one was in the common area, probably all searching for the prisoner, Gregory quickly re-donned his armor and walked out, intent on finding Jack.
I need to find that piss...what will Major Hale say when I tell him I lost his ID card.... thought Axel.
Fniff1 14:25, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
A soldier came in. "The officers want to see you." he said. Georgie suddenly pulled out a light and smashed it against the soldier. The soldier went out like a light. Hee. Awful pun. Georgie then broke the ventilation shaft above him and went into it. To his relief, the alarm didn't go off.
Greg Axel ran down the corridors, Laser Rifle held in front of him. Finally, he stumbled upon a lone Enclave soldier and raised his rifle at him
"On the orders of Major John Hale, remove your helmet and provide identification! NOW!" ordered Axel and when the soldier simply drew a laser pistol and fired in response, Greg knew he had found his man. Dodging the bolt, Greg sprinted down the corridor and threw a short sword at Jack's helmet.
The blade bounced harmlessly off but the complete randomness of the tactic left Jack stunned for just a moment...the moment Greg needed to slam into Jack and tackle him to the floor. Sure enough, a plastic card laminated with a mug shot of John Hale was hanging from the armor.
Grabbing the ID card, Greg was about to finish the Waster off when he felt something warm bubble around his stomach. That bastard just shot me...that's either the heat of the blast, or my own blood. Probably...probably...both thought Axel, tucking the ID card away as Jack wiggled out from under him and ran down the corridor. Then, Greg fell into the embrace of unconsciousness.
Cerebral Jack began to run away, but was forced to break into a wild sprint and dart behind a corner for cover as he came under fire from a Gatling Laser. "Don't play cat and mouse, you mutie mother-fuck! Give up now and I'll finish you off outright 'fore the SS get their hands on you for interrogation!" Fielding bellowed as he rushed down the corridor, hefting the massive weapon along with him. No response. He whirled around the corner to see... nobody. Bastard. Looking back at the corridor he'd just ran through, he noticed a man in Hellfire Power Armor with an accumulating pool of blood around him. Fielding rushed over, dropping to his knees at the man's side and pulling off his helmet.
It was Hale's pet Wastelander. But the cloth on his chest, bloodsoaked it may have been, was enough indication that he was on Fielding's side. Fielding fired up his helmet's integrated radio. "This is Corporal Fielding! We have a man down in Sector A2, corridor C2. Appears to have sustained wounds to the abdomen. Unclear severity. Requesting immediate assitance." With that broadcasted, he tapped the man's cheek to see if he'd stir. Apparently, he would not. Fielding sighed. "You're gonna be okay, kid."
Jack was in the ventilation shafts, crawling through.He ditched the power armor earlier, and the duct was already open. Apparently some one else was already in here, as he heard panting. Then, he saw the vault dweller from earlier, George. "Looks like you and me had the same idea, eh?"
Fniff1 19:40, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
"Listen,we can't stay long. The enclave use cruel tactics to make sure that you won't get out if you are unlucky enough to be in a enclave take over operasion." Said Gerogie. Then he remembered the screams. Oh god...The screams.
"Yes, because obviously me, being a waste lander for all my life, know nothing of the horrors of the Enclave. Woop de fucking do kid, I was just tortured for the last day and a half, and escape twice. Now, we need to free Jet, Strauss, and that Librarian guy, Alexis or something." Jack then started to crawl through the vents, with Georgie boy following.
Fniff1 19:55, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
"At least you didn't get your back flesh ripped out piece by piece then stitched up and done all over again." Georgie muttered.
Alexis was sat in his ristraints.They were electronic locks luckily alexis had a way out of there if he could reach his radio he could turn it to bordcast and because it was an old modle it could be modified to produce a burst if EMP radiation.He grasped at the transmitor and turned it on unlocking the clasp.take that uber-techies.There was a vent shaft in the corner of the room he could escape from the base through.He jumped up and pulled himself into the vent shafts.
Fniff1 20:09, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
Georgie saw Alexis and crawled over to him. "Can you help me bust the lights in this place? We can't stay in the shafts for long." Georgie asked.
"George, don't try to bust the fucking lights! Alexis, you follow me, I'm going to try to get to Jet's room, and then were going to bust Strauss out. Also, how the fuck can we fit so many people in these shafts?"
Fniff1 20:20, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
"Good point,we better split up. Cast this flare when your out of the flame." Georgie gave Jack a flare. " Don't raise too much attention." Georgie crawled away from the group and into the unknown. "Don't worry,I have a pip boy map on here."
Karen was sitting in her private quarters, cleaning her weapons, when she heard ruffling in the vents above her. She then seen a mutie through the few holes in the vents, then ANOTHER! How the fuck do they fit so many mutants in the vents these days! she thought. She then raised her P90 and sprayed the vents.
Fniff1 20:25, 7 May 2009 (UTC)
"AGH!" Georgie screamed as one of the bullets hit. "CRAWL AWAY!" He shouted.
A bullet glanced off Jacks soldier, as he crawled quickly threw the vents. Alexis was with George, and Jack was crawling backwards, preferably to get to Jets room. The bullets continued assaulting the vents, till part of it fell down, hitting the Enclave soldier spraying with the P90.
"georgie stay close and don't mess up strauss's room is neer here"
Fniff1 20:41, 7 May 2009 (UTC)(Your mom is really Paranoid and futureist to have an army of soilders with laser guns at her command!)
Fniff1 20:48, 7 May 2009 (UTC)(I saw that on TV. Odd,you were her partner and you went down into the sack and she did to and we heard moaning for an hour or so and then cigarette smoke coming from the sack.
Dutch Holmes stood on the outside landing field of Adams Air Force Base, the wind slightly breezing through his air as he registered that there were gunshots just about everywhere echoing inside the prison compound just to the north of him. What the hell was going on in there? Being a Warrior Weapon, Dutch was sure he could kick anyone's asses in there, porvided it wasn't damned Jacob come back from the grave to shoot up more of his classmates. Ruffling his black jacket collar, Holmes opened the blast doors, his hand on his holster. Gunshots certainly weren't ordinary in this quantity at Adams, especially when the Brass were around, like General Chase. When he was around, you couldn't bring even a toothpick within fifty yards of the guy. Stepping inside, Holmes peeked his head around the corner. Clear. i have no idea where the hell i am, but im gonna roll with it. say hello to warrior weapon number dos
Ibram Chase was siting at his desk looking over the reports.Officaly the enclave forces in the area had completed there goal of reactivating the air base and sucuring all tech in the area,Somthing was wrong though Ibram could feel it in his bones still he had one card left up his sleave.The prototype power armor and robots were active.He turned his atention to the problem of the prisinors."Fluffy" the robot apeared from nowhere."Yes sir!" ibram turned to the robot."Infiltrate the ventilation system find the prisnors and remove them"
Fluffy turned the corner towards the ventilation control center.Standing at one of the doors was a man in enclave uniform behind the man was a shadow.Fluffy started scaning his data banks.The man was Dutch Holmes and the shadow behind him was being cast by a ghoul."Warning Combat protocol active!".Fluffy opened fire with his guns at the ghoul not stoping until the ghoul was a pile of slag.Disengaging his combat protocals fluffy aproached the man."Excuse me i belive you could be of assistance a group of wasters have escaped into the vent shafts and i require help removing them"
Gregory Axel slowly woke up, his eyes burning as he stared into bright, white lights.
"Doctor, the patient has woken up from the first round of ansthetic" said a sing-song female voice.
"Good, keep him up for a bit, I need to prep for the next round of surgery anyway. I also believe Major John Hale wants to see him" replied a man, the doctor presumably.
"Very good, sir"
As his eyes began to adjust, a large black shadow filled the room. "Hey Greg, how are you?" asked John, a rare moment of caring showing through his tough SpecForce exterior.
"Major, I am sorry I couldn't...couldn't apprehend or eliminate the prisoner. But I did get your ID card...and I'm fine. Sore as hell...and lacking my memory of what happened" groaned Axel.
John pocketed the ID card and sat in a steel chair brought to him by the nurse.
"The Prisoner; Cerebral Jack, shot you in the abdomen with a AEP7 Laser Pistol. The close proximity of the shot, and the setting the pistol was turned to, punched right through your Power Armor. You started to bleed out almost a minute after the shot and Corporal Fielding found you about three minutes after the matter, and brought you here. Now, I need to get back to duty, we're missing all of the prisoners now, but don't worry, we'll handle the situation...since one of my...squad-mates, has arrived" explained Hale.
"A man from 3rd Special Forces?" inquired Greg.
John looked up from the injured Waster/Enclave and went into deep thought for a moment before replying. "Yeah...you could say that" (Referencing Dutch, as he's a Warrior Weapon as well).
Hale began to walk away, but the faint voice of Greg stopped him. "Major?"
"Tell Fielding thank-you for me" Greg said.
"Will-do. Take it easy"
Jack finished crawling through the vents. Jet was right below him, being tortured by another Scientist, with three people guarding him. Jack threw a grenade down the vent, and ducked before it blew up the three men inside. Jumping down to the floor, Jack killed the scientist, grabbed Jet, pointed to the vents, both of them crawled in, and Jack shut the vent's window thing back in place. The Enclave would have no idea where they went.
Alexis looked down in to the room where Conner was being held captive.Hah the enclave were only using old pre war ristraints here he droped an EMP Grenade down into the room.There was a flash of light and a click.Droping into the room he turned to conner "need a hand conner"
Jet was currently crawling through the vent. This made his back ache. He decided it wasn't a good time to tell the rest of the guys he was claustrophobic, and crawled on. He was finding it hard to breathe. The steel decor made him feel dizzy. They came to a T junction, and took a right. 'Wumph. Wumph. Wumph' A fan. Fan-tastic. There was gored remains around. Probably from another unlucky escapee. They were being sucked towards it. They were so close to it now. They could reach out and touch it. Jets shorts (As the Enclave had stripped him for torturing) felt like they were about to be sucked off. Suddenly... 'Creak.' The Vent shook. 'Groan' The vent shook again. CRASH. Jet fell through the vent into an office below. The steel had snapped from pressure. He peered up to the hole. He could see Jack looking down at him. What was he going to do? He looked to the ground. He had landed on a desk. It had snapped. The door was closed. He didn't want to go into the corridor, and he couldn't get back up. The Fan seemed to have stopped. Jet peered round for a rope or something. He started to stack a table and a chair, but he couldn't reach the hole, to climb through. So he may be doomed, but he wasn't letting his friends be found. He replaced the tile which fell from the ceiling. You couldn't tell there was even a vent there, now.
He placed the chairs as they were, and glued a plaque with the name 'Chase' on it to the table. It was sort of hard to tell the table had broken now. But that was only for the first glance. Better than nothing. What was he going to do now? There were two doors. A and B. Jet Chose B. A Closet. Great. And it was. A vent was a the perfect level to climb into. So he did. Soon he met back up with the vent crawlers.
"So... What now?" Jet asked, sheepish.
Conor simply stared at Alexis for a moment as he hung there limply in his restraints, apparently having been worn out significantly thanks to the little convulsion he'd had before. After a moment of confusion, he gave a few stuttered cries, before finally managing to spit out a feeble "H-h-help." Alexis frowned sympathetically and cut his restraints, helping him to his feet. Conor slowly grasped and digested the situtation. "Worthington," He said simply, "we need to find Worthington..."
"We continue." Jack Said, before continuing onward.
They continued for a while, before looping back round to the fan again.
"We went in a circle." Jet cried. He really didn't feel well. "We should turn back." He tried to turn in the narrow tunnel. He failed. "Find Conor. Find Alesess. Clo.. Clostraphrobla..." Jet was really stuggling to breath now.
"Jet, were going to get out of here the second we reach the armory. There we can get you a gun, get you a suit of Enclave armor, and then hopefully you won't throw up all over my poncho. Jet looked re-assured, and continued crawling on. "Strauss and Alex are going to use the vents to escape when we turn off the main fan. Then we'll activate the alarm, with them already long gone. After that, we can escape, got it?"
Jack continued crawling, it was getting harder and harder to breathe each second. God damn vents, being all small and venty and whatnot. Crawling on, Jack came back to the large fan again. Knowing that all they were doing was crawling in circles, Jack took out a knife, and made a hole in the vent. He jumped down, and realized that the fan was right above the armory. And that three soldiers were guarding the armory from the other side. Jack had three .50 magnums. Unless he missed 15 times, he would be fine. However, large caliber magnums were universally known for being loud. So, Jack grabbed two weird looking pistols on a rack to the right of him. Duel wielding, he shot two of the guards at once, then shot the last guard. Dragging the bodies into the room, Jet had already outfitted himself with power armour. "Go outside and guard, I'm going to make these tin can suits into statues." Jack muttered something else, but was too busy with the Flamer he found to repeat it.
'Bwee'. Jet accidentally pressed a button on his helmet, but thought nothing of it, and clanked towards the doorway. He listened to his footfall. 'Clang. Clang. Clang'. The suit was hard to use, and made Jet feel slightly more trapped in this steel prison of a place... Below him, he could hear something he hadn't before in this place: A roaring, rumbly noise. Either water in a pipe, or something more sinister. He held his breath and stepped outside, his ears less clouded by the racket Jack was making. Jet focused, his mind shifting from guarding, to the noise. A constant noise. Suddenly, for but a moment, a beeping could be heard, and then a sudden flash of light. Jet found he could no longer move in the suit, the joints locked in place, and his body numb. Someone - Jet didn't know who, was aproaching. Seconds later, Jet found himself a little closer to the ground, and could now hear what sounded like catarpillar tracks, on hard, rough terrain.
Hale walked over to the bodies, looking at Fielding as he went.
"Good throw. Try not to let the people we're supposed to be holding down get away again, hmm?" Hale said, slapping Fielding's shoulder to show he was only joking. He aggressively worked the action on his M1911 to keep it handy just in case the grenade hadn't worked as intended. Jack and Jet were laid out, raising their hands pathetically in a vain attempt to ward away the massive officer as he hauled Jack to his feet and pinned him to the wall, his power armored feet twitching pitifully as Jack tried to kick Hale away. In a typically impressive display of strength, Hale shifted Jack up the wall one-handed, letting his feet dangle below him as he removed Jack's helmet. "Lights out, Jackie boy."
Hale let Jack fall as the Waster passed out. Hale then grabbed Jack's ankle and dragged him back in, his head bumping helplessly off every doorway and gap in the floor. Fielding followed, dragging Jet along in a kinder underarm hold. This time, the Wasters were stripped to their underwear and thrown into isolation rooms. They had thick mitten-like gloves tied over their hands to prevent them prying the vents open, in the event that they might be able to squeeze through the small gaps. The label on the box was "Prisoner Anti-Self Abuse Gloves". Thick, leathery mitten like things that were fixed tightly to a prisoner's hand, too tight to pull them off with teeth. They kept the hand open to prevent the prisoner's from gripping anything. Escape was becoming less and less likely. The chances of death by Major John Hale was increasing at a similar rate.
Chase stood in the crawlers control room."Helmsman set full speed for providence base.Were going back the salvage op is over".Chase sat down in the command chair sipping his coffee.He had started his service on the east coast at providence and was looking forward to going back."Major hale.Are the prisoners sucure?".
Alexis crawled through the pipe with strauss behind him."can you feal that struass.We'r moving somewhere".The crawler was shakeing and the the air was filled with a rubling sound.
It felt like Jet had been locked up in this place forever. He could hear someone who sounded Strikingly like Alexis, Jet Had assumed him Dead. He hoped he would be on his way to rescue him - as a friend.
PFC Grant Sutherland felt the floor rumble under his feet as the base crawled on, and he felt homesick again. Sure, Grant was proud to serve his country in its darkest days, and he wouldn't ask for any other career, but when he signed up for the Enclave Armed Forces, this wasn't what he pictured his service to be like. Grant sighed, which sounded pretty grotesque after his Power Armor's vocalizers were done with it. He missed his home in Kentucky, as much as he hated to admit that. He preferred its mountains and open spaces to these cramped quarters, but what can you do.
Grant hefted his standard-issue Enclave Plasma Rifle as he patrolled the base. The base was on high alert, as several recently-captured prisoners were still loose inside of the base, trying to escape. They had cut the power and created a surprisingly high body count as they attempted to escape. Power had since been restored, but the base was still on alert.
Grant stopped. His Power Armor's audio receptors had picked up something. Grant couldn't tell what it was, but it couldn't have been anything good. He nodded to the other men in his squad, who doubtlessly had heard it as well. They began a thorough sweep of the area.
Well, Jack was fucked. Might as well kill himself right now. The enclave would execute him, or tortute him. He checked for his cyanide (sp?) pill. Soon, everything would be....what was being dead like again? Ah, Jack hadn't died yet. Probably would soon, right when he swallowed the pill. Then, Jack realized something. He had forgotten his Cyanide pill at home! Oh, Boris sure was right when he said the best thing an assasain could be was to be prepared. Well, now to be tortured and killed by the Enclave. Jack then startled to whistle a tune he heard on the Enclave radio, annoying everyone but him.
Fielding couldn't help but wonder what sort of jackass decided to make a base out of a giant-ass APC as he deposited the Wastelander in one of the aptly named isolation rooms. A command center on wheels? Combined with pesky prisoners escaping and racking up an inexplicably high body count given their skills and genetics, it almost made Fielding feel like the Enclave were a bunch of supervillains like in those Pre-War holoflicks and those comics he used to like as a kid. What did that make him, a lackey who was bound by unspoken, unwritten law to jump at the hero one by one only to be dispatched effortlessly? Probably. He was wearing a faceless uniform after all, which was a strong indicator of such.
He frowned as he realised he was insulting himself and every other person in the armed forces with such comparisons. He also realised that he'd probably commited sedition against the United States just then and quickly washed all thoughts of it from his mind. Instead he started thinking about Lisa and Andy, apple pie, America the Beautiful and this man's army. As he strolled down the corridor he'd came through, he started whistling the Marine's Hymn, despite not being a Marine (but then again, the boundaries between marine and soldier were blurred after two hundred years of the Enclave). He hefted his Plasma Rifle as he left the cell block and fell into a long-overdue routine patrol, still whistling through his vocaliser which produced a characteristically grating noise.
"I need to find Worthington," Strauss repeated for the umpteenth time. "Yeah, I get the idea," Alexis replied, getting somewhat annoyed now. Before he knew it Strauss was off down the ventilation shaft faster than before but still almost silent, heading towards an unknown direction but occasionally pausing to look out of the gratings as he passed them. "Hey, Strauss? Where are you going?" Alexis called after him as quietly as he could, struggling to keep up. It was a wonder they hadn't been located so far...
Grant heard it again. There were voices coming from somewhere around here. Grant picked out two distinctly different voices. Although he couldn't be sure, the voices seemed to have an odd, echoing quality to them, although Grant figured that it could just be distortion from his audio receptors. Suddenly, he heard a faint sliding sound, like fabric sliding across metal. Then, Grant was forcibly struck by the realization of what was going on. They were in the vents.
"We've got prisoners in the vents!" Grant barked, hoping that that's what a veteran soldier would say in this situation. "Let's try and cut off their escape!" Grant moved and opened the next door, only to be greeted by the sight of racks of Plasma Rifles and Microfusion Cells. A small armory. Damn. Grant scooped up a few microfusion cells before closing the door and moving to the next one, hoping to triangulate where they were or where they were headed to.
"What?" Hale muttered to himself as he stepped around the corner to hear some PFC shouting about people in the vents. Then he heard it himself. He hadn't before, because he'd been talking to Fielding, and they'd been having a "My son'll be better than your son!" contest. Immature, but it helped Hale in seeing that Fielding wasn't some soft-headed fool who didn't do his job. He was a good guy, and had a moment of weakness. Just like Hale when he hadn't killed Alexis, Strauss, Georgie, Jack and Jet. Hale couldn't condemn him for that. The big soldier scratched his head for a second,, then sighed, rolled his eyes and walked off in the opposite direction to where Sutherland was headed. Straight to the maintenance rooms. Bursting in through the door, Hale waved the head engineer over to him and leaned in close to him.
"We have prisoners escaping into the vents. Now, what I need you to do is turn all the air-con fans up as high as they'll go, so the little shits never get back outta the vents," Hale said quietly into the man's ear. Hale slapped the man on the back and walked out of the room calmly to avoid panicking the other engineers. "If you could fix that little problem for me sometime, I'd be very grateful."
Where is your God now that you can't use the vents?
Jet sharply awoke, as a series of loud clatters seeped down the cell block. A whirring could also be heard, like that of some sort of Burning; an engine, maybe... 'CLANG! click, click, click, SNAP! CLANG!' The hinges were torn from the cubical, and the door clattered to the floor. Jet tensed, expecting Hale to bash his skull, with some sort of burning torture device. But Hale never came. Jet lowered his mitten glove from his face to peer at the figure. It took him a moment to realize just who had broke him out: Worthington!
"Worthington! Thank you! I had expected to find Conor with you, where is he?" Jet exclaimed.
"Life Scanners of this floor indicate he is 2, 3 floors up. You were reasonally close, so statistics seemed to indicate that helping you first would make our chances of success greater." Worthington moved an eye stalk closer "I bring you his Laser Rifle, and this Plasma Cutter."
"Wow! Thanks! I have one question though. You were broken! How are you perfectly fine now?"
"Mechanic 'Stiggs' repaired my motor command, 22P099E57/N, which fixed the ah, 'Problem', I had outside. None of my Chasis or my Memory are left damaged. I then..." Worthington lifted his Flamer up as to demonstrate. "Stiggs was supprised, and gave me Master's confiscated goods. I then left the Repair Bay and helped you."
"Awesome! So, Can your sensor thinga-ma-wotsit tell us which way to go?" Worthing to sped out of the room, with Jet holding the Laser Rifle with difficulty in Self Abuse gloves. He left the Cutter.
Strauss had seemingly gone into autopliot, not making a sound as he moved through the vents despite the voices shouting about their position and Alexis panicking behind him. As he stopped to peer down one vent, he noticed that a breeze seemed to be picking up. Regardless, he gave the grating of the vent a quick once-over. It seemed to be aluminium, the stuff usually used for this sort of thing, but this wasn't what he was looking for. What he was looking for was how well stuck on it was.
A sign on the side of the wall said, in large, white, printed letters, "ROBOTICS MAINFRAME." It didn't take a genius to work out what this room was used for, but Strauss, even in his panicked, addled state, could more or less be called a genius anyway. A lone technician was operating a terminal, but paused to look over his shoulder as he saw something heading his way through what Strauss presumed was an open door. He looked at Alexis, who'd also be watching, and made sure they were on the same wavelength before nodding for Alexis to put his boot through the grating.
The panel clattered to the floor, and the technician yelled out and started heading for the emergency weapons rack. Alexis slipped out from the vent and rushed at the man, spearing him to the floor. Bookworm he may have been, but he was fairly strong at least. Bursts of plasma started flying through the doorway in Alexis' direction as Strauss dropped out as well, just as the vents were getting extremely uncomfortable to be in. He shot towards the door and got to grips with the terminal quickly. It wasn't much different than the Vault-Tec models but it still required a lot of work. Alexis, who'd subdued the technician and was now toting the Laser Rifle that was on the weapon's rack, fired a few stray shots at the enroaching figure through the doorway and decided to stall him while Strauss worked by simply closing it manually, then pressing the open/close button over and over again.
Eventually, he managed to lock the door, and didn't miss a beat as he moved over towards the terminal the now-subdued technician had been working on. Alexis asked what he was doing, but Conor did not respond. He merely continued to work, doing christ-knows-what with the terminal and didn't seem to hear him as he started complaining that somebody was now using a plasma cutter to get through the door...
"Rico, man, hurry the fuck up with that door! We don't know what they're doing in there! Could be molesting the technician or his cat! You know what those Wasteland fucks are like..." Fielding urged his subordinate slash friend on as he worked ceaselessly with his own standard-issue combat engineer's plasma torch. Fielding tapped his foot for a moment before looking over his shoulder as he heard a Sentry Bot rolling down the corridor. "Hey, I think I hear a robot coming." He informed his friend. The Sentry Bot came out from around the corner and Fielding began to approach it, somewhat apprehensively. There was a whirring noise and a confirmative beep as it read the code on his holotag and identified him as a friendly. Suddenly, it raised its gatling laser and the barrels began to rotate. "Target acquired," the machine snarled in its aggressive, authoritarian but still somewhat monotonous voice. "Oh, you have to be shitting me..."
The Mr. Handy suddenly turned back on himself, back towards the Cell block. He Raised his flamethrower, and peered round the broken door into the cell rooms. He scooted over to the Plasma Cutter, and picked it up.
"Why, Sir Sky, did you not take this with you?" Staring at both the Cutter and Jet, who was staring blankly back, an unhappy whine in his voice. "Oh... What are these?"
"Oh these? What do you think these are ya dumb tin can. Their Escape mittens or whatnot! How do you expect me to grip stuff?" Jet shouted. "Get them off me, and waste no more time!"
Worthington ripped them uncomfortably off Jet's hands, cutting them while doing so. Jet liefted the Laser Rifle and blew down the rest of the doors in the block, just for god mesure. Jet stowed the Cutter in his Left hand, and holstered the Laser on his back. They were off again.
Worthington soon found Jack, insane ranting coming from his a small metal cabinet, deep in another cell block... Jet woried as he cut the hinges, just as Worthington had done. The door Broke lose, and Jack slapped Jet, before realizing who it was. Worthington Broke Jacks's Mitts, and they were off again.
Jack quickly got up when he saw Jet and Strauss's robot enter the room. Nearly tackled em too. Thanking them quickly, Jack then started to run down a corridoor. Jet then started to speak. "Jack! Where are you going!" "To kick that son of a bitches ass!" Jack then continued running down the hall. Odly, there were no Enclave soldiers around. It seemed odd, too odd. Suddenly, Jacks body smashed into something. Air isn't that hard.... Looking down, Jack saw a glimmer. Fucking stealth boys. Dragging the man into the room, he checked the mans wrists. What the fuck was making that invisibilty effect? Dragging the soldier into a bathroom, and then stuffing him into a stall Jack then realized the man was wearing some sort of suit. And that the man was unconcious. He seemed peaceful, so Jack broke the mans neck so he could sleep longer. And Boris said Jack was cruel. Stripping the man of the stealth armour, he then put it on himself. It was a little tight, but no matter. Positioning the man in the stall so he seemed like he was alive, and not brutally murdered. Turning on the stealth armour, Jack then left the bathroom and proceeded to sneak around the base.