What does it mean to serve one’s country? To be a dedicated soldier and fight to the end? To stand for every ideal and belief you’ve been told, unquestioning, never doubting it? I know what it means. I know better than most men... if I can still be called that.
My name is Frank Horrigan. Secret Service Agent and personal bodyguard to President Dick Richardson. And I am supposed to be dead. Like, literally, dead. Getting blasted in half, nuked, and sinking to the bottom of the ocean inside a burning radioactive wreck of an oil rig would kill most people, but this is Frank Horrigan we’re talking about. I don’t die easy.
So yeah, still somehow alive. Either from God’s grace or some other miracle, I’m alive. Although now I wish I was dead. I failed. My leader is dead. The Enclave has been dealt a crushing blow from the hand of that mutant trash I was unable to stop. And my country, which is still populated by the mutant scum that reside in every corner of its great land. I failed and I didn’t even pay the ultimate price. My life.
Semper Fi.
Always faithful.
… Restart system activated. Commence awakening initiative. Good morning, Frank.
My head... fucking hurt so much. It felt like two deathclaws were fighting to the death in there. My eyes were closed, but that didn’t stop my from wincing in pain. Incredible pain. All along my body. But I was already used to that. When a special suit of power armor was cybernetically grafted onto my body, even with enough Med-X’s to put down a baby elephant, I still felt my skin burn like it was being dipped into hot magma.
I waited a few seconds, waiting for the pain to pass. It didn’t. Well, too bad for me on that deal. My suit seemed to be fine though. Helmet was still feeding me air to breathe, each lungful a mile of effort to get through.
Frank, vitals show indication of severe body trauma. Should I activate medical systems?
I wanted to scream at the computer to hurry up already, but my lips were glued together, and my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton. I was a goddamn cripple, and without voice recognition my own computer couldn’t even fix me. Fucking wonderful...
Struggling to move proved fruitless, since my limbs felt as if cinder blocks were holding them down. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, and I couldn’t even open my eyes. What the hell happened to me?
Actually, that was a good question. What happened to me that led to me being a vulnerable weakling? Was I back in the Enclave laboratories? Was I getting experimented on again? No... not in the Enclave.
If I was back there, I would start being pumped full of drugs and I wouldn’t be in such constant pain. And by the looks of the artificial intelligence life support system, if it needed voice activation to work, no Enclave scientists were working on me.
Frank, should I apply medical systems?
Great, now the computer won’t stop bugging me until I tell it to hurry the fuck up with pumping Stimpaks into me. I tried to clear my throat, but it still felt like toxic waste was clogging it up, and burning like hell, too. My tongue could move at least, but it still felt like my lips were glued together. In fact... I could taste blood. Probably my own.
Finally pushing my tongue forward and separating the seal on my lips, I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, my throat preventing me from really drawing in large breaths.
Frank, should I activate medical systems?
I swear, I’m going to rip out that AI chip in my helmet the next chance I get. All I could manage was to croak, my throat burning my lungs like fire now from that simple action.
I take that as a yes. Drugs are being injected. You may feel a tad bit woozy.
I could feel the sharp pricks of needles all along my body, the suit starting to pump its special batch of drugs that constantly keep me alive. Already I could feel their effect. Strength was returning to my sore muscles. My heart was beating faster. My lungs could now fill to capacity with air, my throat now clear of blockage.
And now I was coughing, hacking out whatever was residing in my throat. By the smell of it, more blood. How the hell did that happen?
Frank, you will be fully healed in approximately two minutes.
Okay, I had two minutes before I could move normally. Trying to open my eyes again, I finally succeeded, my vision blurry. Blinking a few times, my familiar red outlook on life finally cleared. Sometimes I missed colors other than red and black, but this was for the best. My bionic eyes helped me perform at maximum efficiency. The Enclave demands no less than that.
Well, there was a ceiling alright. Didn’t seem to be metal. So yeah, definitely not Enclave. In fact, it seemed to be wooden. So maybe I was in a Pre-War house of some type? How did I end up here? Wait... it’s coming back to me.
The Enclave Oil Rig. The last foundation of pure humans left in the United States. The new future of the country that would take back the Wasteland and free it from the mutants’ disfigured hands. We were going to bring this great country back to its former glory. But now that will never happen. Because of him...
The mutant scumbag. I will never forget his face. Smug son of a bitch that waltzed right in, right past all of the Rig’s security, and shut down the atomic reactors so the place would blow sky high. And I failed to stop him.
Him and those traitors. Granite and his team. Made short work of them quickly before I tackled that piece of trash. The mutant bastard fought hard, and I was going all out to crush his skull against the cold steel floor. Even when I ran out of bullets I fought on, using my knives to slice him up. But it was all pointless in the end. Because that bitch had a whole load of Stimpaks.
Defeat tasted bitter in my mouth, or maybe that was the blood. Having the lower half of your body blown apart does that. But with my last breaths I told that bastard the entire place was going to blow. A weak bluff, but I enjoyed the look on that muties’ face before I died.
But I wasn’t dead. I still can’t comprehend that. My legs were shot off of me and I was still alive! How in the holy fuck is that possible?
Frank, Hit Points are back at 999. Limbs are no longer crippled. Get off your lazy ass and get moving!
I swear to God I’ll rip that fucking AI out of my helmet as soon as I can. Wiggling my toes, I discovered I could actually move them. Well, looks like my legs are back on. I think Enclave scientists could’ve reattached them. But that still doesn’t explain why I was in some Pre-War home. Hell, I still can’t understand how I’m alive at this moment. God, I sound like a broken record.
Attempting to move my fingers also proved fruitful, and wiggling them at least assured me my AI wasn’t malfunctioning. Moving my arms, however, was proving more difficult than I thought. Felt like they fell asleep for a couple of years and I was just moving them now.
“Fuckin’ damn,” I grunted, giving a growl of annoyance as I tried to sit up. I could feel my spine crack and pop, which definitely wasn’t normal. Were metal-alloy-augmented spines made to survive a tank running over them supposed to crack? Didn’t know the answer to that, so I just struggled to get up again.
After what felt like hours but was actually minutes, since I was checking the clock in the corner of my vision because of my bionic eyes, I got into a sitting position. Panting from the effort to even sit up made me pissed. Like I was a goddamn weakling. A mutie scum that can’t even crawl out of his own hole.
Resting there, I finally tried to see if my legs could work. Bending my knees to my chest was a grueling task, but when I succeeded I was one step closer to getting up. “Come on, Frank. You’re the best of the Enclave. Can’t let them down.”
Using both hands behind my back at the sides, I pushed off the floor, coming to a halt on my knees. Needed to move quick to get my arms in front of me or else my face would go splat on the floor. Panting yet again in the span of only minutes, I rested as my arms supported the weight of my torso while I was leaning forward on my knees.
“Okay, here comes the hard part. No problem,” I assured myself, pushing up with my hands while arching my back. More sickening pops could be heard from my back as I strived to get my feet under me. I got my right foot settled securely on the ground first, my knee against my chest. Lifting my lower body up slightly now that I used the strength in my right leg, I also managed to move my left foot underneath myself.
I had both feet stable on the ground now, my body leaning forward as I was supported by my fingertips of my hands. “Come on soldier, let’s do this!” I grunted loudly, pushing off with my hands no only my legs supported me. Pushing my body up with my legs, I could hear my back crack even louder as I waved both my arms in circles like an idiot so I didn’t lose my balance.
Finally, I was on my feet, and already I felt weak enough to collapse on the ground. “Computer, give me some shots of adrenaline,” I commanded, needing something to just stay standing.
A better tone of voice would be appreciated. Administering dosage of adrenaline at once.
Ignoring that comment, I sighed in relief when the feel of needles poured into me the desperately-needed adrenaline. Didn’t know what drug it was, nor did I really care. All I know is that it makes Jet and Psycho look like cough syrup.
Now that that was over, I could move onto more pressing concerns. Like where the hell was I? Looking around me... I couldn’t really answer that question.
It was if I was in some type of library, by the looks of all the books. Never seen so many of them before. Enclave usually kept all its written material on computers. But wow, it was like a Pre-War library for sure.
Another weird thing was the lack of rubble or litter. Once you travel the Wasteland enough, the expect everything to be trashed and filled with crap. But here it was perfectly clean. It was eerie, since usually only the Enclave were such clean freaks.
Also, like always, the ceiling was too low. Higher than most, but still only a foot above me. And arched. In fact, there didn’t seem to be one wall here straight. Everything was curved, like I was in a sphere or something. Also, everything was wooden. So much wood couldn’t have been in this good condition so long since the Great War.
Taking a step forward, I was surprised to see that my legs could move normally now. Well, they were more mechanical than most parts of my body, so it makes sense they’d work properly. After the first step, the next was even easier, and pretty soon I was walking along with no problem.
Things got even stranger when I inspected the wide range of books. Bionic eyes make reading small script easy, but all the titles made no sense. Magic 101, Equestrian History, Pony Psychology, How to Raise a Foal. What was this? The kid’s section of the library?
“Computer, check for where my location is,” I commanded, a migraine creeping up on me from all the shit I’m being put through right about now.
Location unknown.
“What the fuck do you mean, ‘location unknown’? At least tell me what state I’m in.”
Satellites aren’t picking up anything. In fact, I can’t reach any satellites.
I cursed under my breath and asked, “And what does that mean?”
It means either something is cutting off our connection or we’re not on Earth anymore.
“You fucking AI! Where else would we be? You must be fucking malfunctioning again!” I yelled, my anger starting to become as hot as a nuclear reactor.
I am currently working at top performance. The reason for our location being unknown is still unclear. Why don’t you figure it out?
“Fucking smartass computer,” I growled, turning around to inspect my surroundings. Other than the books on all the shelves and a table with cushions around it, there was nothing much else in the room. Walking forward, each of my steps making the wooden floorboards underneath me groan in effort to keep my weight, I went over to what appeared to be the front door.
Well, it only reached over my waist. Even in the Enclave most doors couldn’t reach my shoulders, but this was ridiculous. I definitely needed to go outside to see where I actually was, but I was pretty sure it was physically impossible to fit through that door. So I opted for the second best choice.
With a good kick the weak wooden door was broken to pieces right away. A well-placed fist to the wall section above the door I managed to make a more comfortable doorway. And a single step forward made my shoulders break off even more of the decimated doorway, which led me outside. And now I was at a loss for words.
“Good God in heaven...” I managed to choke out, my mind overloading with what I saw. Clear blue skies with actual clouds, birds flapping in the breeze and greenery as far as the eye could see. Well, it seemed like greenery to me. Like I said before, sometimes I missed color vision, but there definitely seemed to be plants, actual alive plants, here. Trees, grass, and even flowers.
Even stranger were the houses. The architecture wasn’t Pre-War at all. In fact, I couldn’t tell what era they were from. Thatched roofs, stone walls, and architecture that looked like it belonged in the... Middle Ages I think. Or something. Being taught only American history made knowing stuff about Europe difficult. Not that I really bothered. I’m a soldier, not a scientist or one of those brainiacs.
It was unnerving to say the least, seeing all this bubbly goodness. God, it looked like it was ripped right out of a picture book for kids. Moving forward, my feet crunched on a dirt path, leading to who knows where. Maybe civilization by the looks of all those houses. Maybe a village or town of some type.
Looking back at my previous residence, I was shocked to discover it was a treehouse. And I mean literally here. A giant tree, which apparently acted as a house too. That made no amount of sense at all! “God fucking damn, I must be tripping on some bad chems the Enclave scientists gave me,” I said aloud, that seeming like the best explanation at the moment.
Walking forward again, I discovered my first obstacle. A tiny-ass bridge over a river. And the water was actually clear, not irradiated at all. Damn, that’s a rare sight in the Wasteland. If I was even in the Wasteland...
“Damnit, Frank, stop thinking that way. Just find a way outta this hellhole and get back to the Enclave,” I said to myself, placing my foot on the bridge to cross it. That proved to be useless, since my power armor boot, which is specially made by top Enclave scientists to crush through the pelts of deathclaws with just one kick, just went right through the rickety wood into the water of the river. Muttering obscenities under my breath, I just kicked over the tiny bridge and crossed through the water.
Now that I was on the other side, I could get a proper look at the town nearby. Walking to it, I actually saw what appeared to be some life forms. But the sun glare made it hard for my bionic eyes to get a clear view. Best guess was probably some livestock since it looked like they scurried on four legs.
Suddenly some random music started playing with some bells and piano and some other instruments. What the hell? And I had no idea where it was coming from. And now I could hear a voice singing.
“What in the fucking sam hell?” I asked, looking left and right for where that voice was coming from. It felt like it was playing right in my head, along with that insufferable music. Nothing like the inspirational music of the Enclave. The old tunes of America that spoke of freedom and the dreams of greatness. This... this was crap.
If there was a way to turn off the sound going to my eardrums I would’ve activated it by now. “For the love of everything holy, make this music stop!” I held my hands to the sides of my head, but that proved useless to get that damn music out of my head.
Walking down the main road, I realized this town was even weirder than before. Real windows without broken glass, no peeling paint, not even a suggestion of damage from the nuclear bombs that hit Earth. Heck, there were even trees and plants that were still alive! How is that even possible? And still no people.
Nothing was making sense. I wished this was a bad dream. A testing program that Enclave scientists were putting me through. That had to be it. But what kind of sick bastards would put me through this type of torture?
“What is with all this goddamn music?” I asked to whatever was singing, still getting no answer. Walking down main road, I still saw no people. Heck, even the sight of a mutie right now would be a welcome relief. Just anything other than this song.
Actually, now I could some livestock critters. Scuttling around in the distance, farther down the road. Brahmin probably, but smaller. Least they’re not deathclaws. Wasn’t in the mood to kill those bastards.
“Holy fuck, what were those things?” I asked, seeing a couple of those livestock actually hopping on the roofs of the houses. “Maybe shooting those things will get some people out here?”
Checking my ammo at least gave me some good news, because it was fully resupplied. Seems that here I’m fully loaded. Now I actually was smiling as I walked further down the main road, my finger itching already. My gattling gun was revving up full blast, just begging to be firing.
Windowpanes now opened as faces appeared out, but I didn’t get a good look because all I heard was screams and them closing the windows before I could see them. Heck, I could hear even more screams and shouts now. The smile on my face only grew wider.
And now there was even more of those livestocks and... they were the ones singing? “Holy motherfucker,” I shouted, catching their attention several yards away. There was a big ol’ group of them in a circle singing, but one glance at me shut them up.
I couldn’t even tell what species they were. Eyes bigger than dinner plates, what appeared to be eccentric color variety, though I couldn’t really tell, and hair like those models in those Pre-War magazines. The best guess I could come up with were horses, though they were much smaller and... weirder. Like a mutated lab rat version of them.
Glancing downward, I caught sight of one of the mutants with puffy hair sing the final verses of the song. Now the music ended just as mysteriously as it came, the absence of both the music and singing a welcome relief. The creature was staring at all the others of its kind, who had shocked looks on their faces as they dropped down in fear, just as they held arms in a large chorus for the end bit. Probably from the sudden sight of me.
“Hey, what’s up with everypony?” the creature asked, clearly female by the sound of its voice. And also that damn singer of that annoying song. “Was I off key? Did I screw up a line? Ooh, I know! I should’ve included the fireworks!”
“N-No, Pinkie, i-it’s not t-t-that,” another one spoke, this one with what seemed to be a pointy tumor growing out of its forehead, pointing in my direction.
I took a single step forward, my footfall crushing the earth and sending a loud rumble through the ground. Just as my shadow fell on the one called Pinkie, she turned around, staring at me with wide eyes that sickened me just looking at them.
“O-Oh,” she stuttered, legs trembling as I towered before her.
Karma Decision:
Good: Introduce yourself. See if these ‘creatures’ know where you are, or at least if they can help.
Neutral: Glare at them and don’t make a move. See how they react. Let them make the first move. A soldier’s best tactic.
Bad: Shoot. These are obviously muties of an extreme variety that must be dealt with right now. So empty your bullets into their mutated bodies and rid them of the earth like a proper Enclave soldier.