//------------------------------// // Chapter 9 // Story: The Mad Mojavian Adventures of Courier 6 and Pinkie pie // by Edmar Fecler //------------------------------// Jacks slid the new magazine into the All American marksman carbine before returning his eye to the scope. He was kneeled down at the edge of the ramp leading down to Vault 3’s massive metal door. Pinkie and ED-E were behind him, keeping their cover during the gunfight just moments before. Pinkie had used the common marksman carbine Jacks had given her with resounding success, achieving three headshots and 5 body-shots. ED-E had vaporized four fiends by his count, and was counting the ash piles to confirm his estimation. Jacks had nailed the most fiends as always, though he wasn’t able to count how many. After scanning the surrounding area multiple times through his scope, Jacks deemed the area clear of fiends for the time. He stood up slowly and hung the All American inside his cloak. “The fiends always do know how to make a guy feel welcome,” he chuckled before stabbing a stimpack into his neck. “Pinkie, ED-E, you two ok?” Pinkie rubbed her left shoulder gingerly, where a bullet had grazed her. “Just a flesh-wound. Bleeding a bit, but it’s not much more than a scratch.” “--All systems nominal. Unit functioning at 95% capacity.--“ Jacks nodded. “Good. Pinkie, I’ll wrap that up for you. Infections out here are even more deadly than a bullet.” He pulled out a roll of gauss from his cloak and knelt down beside Pinkie. “Hey, I need to tell you something,” he said as he wrapped, “Rather, something I need to ask you.” “Yeeeeaa~? What’s that?” “Up until now, we’ve only been around ourselves and enemies, so this hasen’t quite been an issue yet. But in there, with any luck at least, we won’t be attacked. And when the fog of battle isn’t clouding everyone’s minds, I’m pretty sure people will start noticing a pink, talking pony walking around. And, while I normally wouldn’t care less about what people think about me and my choice of friends, it would not be in your best interest to not care about what you are and where you come from.” Pinkie nodded, listening to Jacks’ words attentively. “I mean, it’s not exactly easy to keep a low profile when we’re walking around saying ‘look here! This here is a pink alien pony from across the galaxy that has interdimensional powers and can talk! Isn’t that awesome!?’ …Yeah, not the best way to avoid attention. ” Pinkie’s eyes grew to the size of saucers and her lip began to quiver. “Y-you don’t think it’s awesome?” Jacks recoiled a bit. “What? When did I ever say that? I just said people can’t know about your awesomness, else you’ll be in big trouble. After all, there are plenty, and I mean plenty of people and groups out there that would just love to get their hands on you for their own reasons.” Pinkie’s eyes returned to normal and her smile returned. “Oh, okie doke! You had me worried there for a second, ya’ silly filly!” “…Silly filly…?” Jacks expression deadpanned at the comment. “…Please, don’t call me that.” “Okie dokie lokie. So what’s the plan on helping me keep a low profile?” “Ok, if you’re cool with it, I want to pass you off as an ultra-super mutated dog. …Mutation seems to be the explanation for everything weird these days anyway. So when we’re around lots of people and anyone asks what you are, just say you’re a mutated dog.” “Woof woof!” “…You can still talk. That’s the brilliance of mutations, anything goes.” Pinkie nodded happily. “I can dig it. So what’s the plan with this engineer guy?” “Engineer? What engineer?” “Motor Runner. He makes motors run, doesn’t he?” “…Don’t think so. He got his name for the pre-war chainsaw he wields. The last thing his victims hear is the sound of the motor as he’s running towards them. Hence the name MotorRunner.” “Ohhhhhhhh~!” Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Okay, that makes a lot more sense.” “And to answer your question, the plan, simply put, is to walk in, monologue to MotorRunner a bit, kill him extravagantly, then kill anyone who stands in our way as we leave.” Jacks couldn’t help the twisted grin spreading across his face in anticipation. “Sounds super duper! Let’s do this!” Jacks nodded before standing up. He walked down the ramp and stopped in front of a control panel on the wall to the right. As he began tinkering with the door’s controls, Pinkie sat before the massive, gear-shaped metal door of the vault. A big 3 could be seen in the middle of the door, its yellow paint worn down by time. Jacks had explained what he could about vaults and how they helped humans survive, as well as his theory that the heads of VaultTech were likely the ones who sparked the Great War to ensure their numerous investments were seen as a success. …But that’s just what he thought. Pinkie’s imagination went wild with what could be inside the massive vault. “Got it!” Jacks called out as he punched a big red button on the pad. The door began creaking and screeching tremendously as the massive door pulled back and rolled off to the left. Pinkie’s dreams of what awaited them inside were put to rest when she saw over a dozen gun barrels pointing towards her and the others. She looked up to Jacks, who’s happy, nonchalant expression remained on his face. “What the bloody fuck do you think you’re doin’ here?!” the door’s guard shouted out angrily, cocking the hammer on her 10mm pistol. “And give me one good reason not to tell my men to shoot you right here and now!” “Because, as I’ve explained to you before, I am contracted as the drug runner between MotorRunner and the Great Khans. And before you ask, I’m late for my shipment because I was preoccupied. I have brought double the usual amounts as compensation.” He noticed a few of the men lowering their weapons a bit. No doubt thinking about what the Khans would do to them if they killed one of their best, if not the best, drug runner. “Bullshit! That ain’t gonna save your ass this time Courier! We know you killed all our guards! …For the third time, no less! I’ll deliver MotorRunner the drugs after I get them off your corpse!” “I thought you’d say something like that. That’s why I brought you personal compensation as well.” He held his hands up defensively. “Now, I’m going to reach inside my cloak and bring it out, ok? You promise not to shoot?” “Fuck you!” “Good girl. Now this,” Jacks began as he stuck his hand into his cloak. Suddenly everyone raised their weapons, and Jacks froze instinctively. Silence fell for a moment, each side waiting to see what would happen. Eventually, Jacks began to retract his hand, slowly. He watched as many of the Fiend’s eyes were darting around in adrenaline fueled nervousness. When his hand finally became visible again, it was revealed to be holding a small, clear bag of a fine white powder. “Powdered sugar?” Pinkie asked quizzically. “HOLLY SHIT IT TALKS!” One of the fiends cried out suddenly. Before Pinkie knew what was happening, he had pointed his 10mm sub-machine gun at her and let fly a salvo of bullets. Jacks pushed her out of the way and allowed the bullets to bounce off his armor. In the blink of an eye he pulled his combat knife out and threw it with almost inhuman precision, the blade burying itself to the hilt into the fiend’s forehead. Everybody adjusted their aim on Jacks and prepared to pull the trigger, but Jacks held his hands up again. “Wait! That was self defense and you all saw it! He prematurely tried to shoot my companion. Gun me down now and you’ll have hell to pay!” The guard lady snarled. “So what’s that white stuff? And what makes that pink fucker worth one of my men?” “First question: It’s a pre-war drug known as cocaine. Cocaine is a helluva drug, believe me.” He turned to pinkie. “And for the record, I thought it was powdered sugar at first too. But trust me, it’s NOT.” He continued as he turned back to the guard lady. “Second question: She is my ultra-mutated wasteland dog, Pinkie. She’s pink because her previous owner dyed her hair that way, and he taught her to speak. …literally. She’s like family to me, so if you fuck with her, you fuck with me. That trigger-happy moron is proof.” He pointed to the dead fiend. “Now, want me to toss you this drug so you can try it out, or what?” She took her left hand away from the 10mm and held it up. Jacks gingerly tossed her the bag, which she caught underhanded. She rotated the baggie in her hand for a second or two before looking back up at Jacks with a puzzled expression. “You snort it up your nose, but try not to snort too much though. Try dipping a finger or two in it and sniff that.” “Don’t tell me what to fucking do!” She sneered at him before returning her gaze to the bag. Her eyes darted between Jacks and the bag a few times as she thought about what to do. After a moment, she cautiously holstered her pistol and stuck two fingers into the bag and stuck them to her nose before taking a deep breath in. Everyone watched her and the blank expression on her face as she stared off into the distance. A trickle of blood ran down from her nose, though she didn’t seem to notice. “Holy fuck…” she murmured to herself. Her eyes moved back down to the bag and remained on it for a moment. Suddenly, she shoved her nose into it and took a deep breath in. “No! Not the whole thing you crazy bitch!” Jacks reached an arm out in protest, though his words went unheard. The guard pulled her powder-coated nose out of the bag and looked at Jacks. A sickly smile spread across her face as it grew paler by the second. Her head twitched violently, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she fell over onto her back. The other guards looked over her and the bag of cocaine, unsure of what to do. Finally, one of them tried to pick up the bag, but was punched in the jaw by another. “It’s my turn!” the puncher shouted, but he was kicked in the groin before he could grab the bag. “No! Its mine!” another shouted. Soon the entire group was fighting each other for the drug. Fists were thrown, shots were fired, and even a frag grenade was dropped. As the dust from the blast settled, the entire group of fiends were dead. Jacks and the others looked over the bloody mess and shook their heads. “You’re right. Cocaine is a hell of a drug.” Pinkie said in a disturbingly serious tone of voice. Jacks chuckled. “Heh, that’s still nothing compared to when I first came across the stuff. Downed an entire bag before I knew it wasn’t sugar.” He looked down to Pinkie. “…Nobody made it out alive.” They looked at each other for a second before laughing. “Doesn’t sound too out of the ordinary for you. What makes that time special?” Pinkie asked after her laughter subsided. “Because I was fighting my way out of the heart of an Enclave base,” Jacks replied with a wide grin. “Ooo~… Those nasty ol’ baddies who think they’re what’s left of the US-of-A?” “The very same.” Jacks walked over to the fiend that had tried to shoot Pinkie. He knelt down and pulled his knife out of the fiend’s forehead, wiping it off before sheathing it. “But all that’s in the past now. True, they probably have a bounty out for me, assuming they do that sort of thing, but I heard that they’re focusing on the East coast. Something about a purity project or some such drivel, but I haven’t kept up with them in a while, so I don’t what they’re up to.” Jacks took a deep breath in after the explanation. “But I digress. I’ve got plenty more things to deal with than some pre-war fanatics and their exploits. The most prominent of which, at the moment, is the completion of this job,” he continued, stepping around the pile of corpses carefully. “You two coming?” Pinkie nodded as she bounced over the bodies skillfully, not touching a one as she did so. ED-E simply hovered over the corpses, but what else would you expect? With Pinkie and ED-E close behind, Jacks walked to the door leading onto the inner vault. With a turn of the crank and a hiss of the pistons needed to move the metal mass, the door opened. …And the three came face to face with more gun barrels. Pinkie rolled her eyes. “Not this again.” “I know, right?” Jacks cleared his throat. “So, explanation: I’m the Great Khans’ drug runner, the guards behind me killed themselves over a bag of super-drugs known as cocaine. In short I didn’t kill them, and at this point you have three choices. 1: kill me, only to be killed by MotorRunner and/or the Great Khans. 2: try to kill me and fail, in which I’ll just return the favor. Or 3: let me be on my merry way so nobody dies. …at this current point in time.” The guards looked between each-other for a second before lowering their weapons. Jacks bowed before continuing into the vault. As they went, Pinkie couldn’t help but notice all the strange looks she was getting. “Damn… I gotta kick back on the Jet,” one of the fiends mutter to himself as they passed. As for the vault itself, Pinkie was rather taken aback by it. She thought she smelled something funny (that’s ‘unusual’ funny, not ‘ha-ha’ funny) when they first entered, but she had assumed it was the corpses. However, as they entered the vault’s hallways, a wave of noxious fumes hit her like a brick to the face. Looking down the hall to her left, she could safely assume the fumes were coming from the fiend’s makeshift drug lab they had set up in what appeared to have been a lunch room. “Bloody idiots and their drug den,” Jacks murmured, “…You can use my helmet if you’d like to filter out the fumes. In some instances the fumes can have a worse toll then the actual drug.” He held up the helmet that had come with the armor. Pinkie nodded vigorously as she grabbed the helmet and shoved it on her head. What hair wasn’t stuffed inside curled out from the loose space around her neck, helping keep it airtight. The lenses in the eye sockets flickered on, tinting Pinkie’s view of the world a light shade of red. She looked around some, making sure it wasn’t constricting her. “Mmm~, cozy! Why don’t you wear this thing?” Jacks grinned. “Gets hot in there, and it restricts my peripheral vision. Besides, I like for people to see my face. That way they know it wasn’t just another masked figure that killed them. …That and it adds distinctiveness to my ‘style’.” Pinkie nodded, contemplating the explanation. She followed Jacks closely as he led them further into the vault, passing sneering fiends and blood-stained walls as they went. After a few minutes of wandering aimlessly and backtracking from wrong turns, they found themselves finally entering the vault’s maintenance wing. Jacks knew he was approaching MotorRunner’s lair when he saw two guards standing post at the door before them. “I’ve got business with Runner,” he said as he stepped up to the guards. “Fuck off. We‘re not supposed to let anyone in.” “Look, I’m here with the Khan’s drugs. If you want your rations for the next month then you’ll let me through.” With risk of their drugs being on the line, the guard quickly sidestepped to let Jacks through. “Thank you.” He looked down to Pinkie as they walked into the room. “I tell ya’ what, it’s always a hassle getting in this place.” “What about getting back out?” “This time, I think it’ll be a bit more fun than usual.” He eyed a flamer-wielding fiend as she passed. “…and a bit hotter, too.” She snarled at him, mistaking his statement as a flirt. They continued for a bit before approaching another large, reinforced door. Jacks took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping inside. He was instantly greeted with the enraged snarls of MotorRunner’s two dogs, Donnie and Marie. MotorRunner was sitting in his makeshift throne of hockey sticks and skulls. “Hey! There’s my favorite criminal mastermind!” Jacks stated happily over the growling of the dogs. “Well well, look who’s finally got back with my drugs,” MotorRunner said as he stood up. “So where the hell have you been? …And why do you always have to kill all my men on your way here?” “Well, to my defense, they have a knack of attacking me first. I would suggest you teaching them some manners, but that’d be a moot point.” “Whatever. You got my drugs or what?” “All in due time. But for now, I have some pressing matters with you that I need to take care of.” “Like what?” Runner asked sarcastically as he crossed his arms. “Well, the main reason I’m here is to kill you and collect the bounty on your head,” Jacks replied casually. Runner stared at him for a second before he burst into laughter. “…HA! You’ve got a messed up sense of humor, you know that?” “That maybe true, but who’s to say I’m joking?” The ensuing silence was interrupted by the door behind him opening, followed immediately by an exhausted, one-armed fiend suddenly running into the room. “Boss! Boss! Th-this guy-“the fiend froze dead in his place when he noticed the trio standing in the room with him. A wide grin spread on Jacks’ face. “Skippie! So glad you could make it! A bit late, I must admit, but at least you didn’t miss the good part.” He clapped his hands together. “So, I believe you were about to tell your fearless leader a particular story involving a particular courier?” The fiend just stared at Jacks in terror. “…Well go on, tell him.” “B-boss… This guy, right here,” The fiend stammered haphazardly as he pointed to Jacks, “He killed CookCook and his men right in front of me! He even shot my fucking arm off!” Jacks turned back to Runner and shrugged. “Oh shucks, I’ve been discovered.” “A-and he’s even been going around, killing all the other fiend leaders too! He told me to come here and tell you he was coming for you!” “And a fine job of that you did, Latey McTardy-pants,” Jacks said flatly. “So Runner, believe me now?” MotorRunner stared at Jacks agrily. “You… You’ve got the BALLS to kill my men, come into MY vault, and THREATEN me?!” “Well it’s more of a promise than a threat, but yeah, pretty much.” Runner stood there a second, twitching furiously, before he pulled the ripcord on his chainsaw with a roar of its motor. “Donnie! Marie! Sick em’!” Before the two dogs could even lift a paw, Jacks whipped out his dual 10mm pistols and shot them both in the head simultaneously. He holstered the pistols as quickly as he’d pulled them out, and pointed to the freshly killed canines. “Ok, play dead! Play dead doggies!” The two dogs collapsed to the ground. “Goood~ doggies! Who’re good doggies? You are!” Suddenly MotorRunner lunged at Jacks with his chainsaw. Jacks, having predicted the move, stepped left at the last second to dodge the attack. In the blink of an eye, he spun behind MotorRunner, stopped the fiend in his tracks with a chokehold, and pulled out his combat knife. “You like the sight of yer own blood?!” Jacks said mischievously, mimicking all the fiends that had said the same line to him. In one swift swipe, Jacks sliced MotorRunner’s throat open and let go of the fiend leader. Runner fell to the floor, clutching at his neck desperately to stop the bleeding, despite it being a lost cause. Within a minute, Runner collapsed. “And that, as they say, is that,” Jacks said resolutely. He knelt down beside MotorRunner’s corpse and began cutting away at his neck. “You know,” he began, “I’m actually glad you got here when you did, Skippie. It’s always more fun when there’s a witness who can spread the word.” He paused as he snapped the spine. “That said; I want you to leave the fiends. I don’t care what ties you may have, I just want you to have nothing more to do with them. I never want to see you with these people ever again; else you’ll find yourself in my crosshairs.” Jacks stood up, holding MotorRunner’s head by his hair, and turned to the one-armed fiend. With his open hand, he reached in and pulled out a bag about the size of his fist. “Here,” he said, tossing the bag. “I want you to have this.” The fiend caught the bad in the air and looked at it dumbly for a moment. “There’s a hundred caps in there, got it? I want you to start a new life. Get over what addictions you might have. You can start by going to the Followers of the Apocalypse set up in Freeside. They specialize in drug addictions.” The fiend looked up to Jacks, confusion and fear in his eyes. “W-why? Why do this?” “Because I like you, Skippie. You’re a good kid,” Jacks said, placing his open hand on the fiend’s shoulder. “When you get to the Followers, just tell them I sent you. They’ll take care of you after that. …Now go on and get out of here.” Jacks pulled his hand away from the fiend’s shoulder. ‘Skippie’ took a cautionary step back, not taking his eyes off Jacks. After a moment of silence, he turned and hurried out of the room. Jacks watched as he left, smiling at what he had done for the man. “That was awfully nice of you, Jackie. Why the sudden act of compassion, if you don’t mind me askin’?” Pinkie asked curiously. Jacks shrugged. “I don’t know… I just felt it was the right thing to do. Who knows, maybe he actually will go to the followers and get reformed. But either way, I’ve got a feeling we’ll be seeing him again.” Pinkie nodded. “…So, time to collect the reward on these four meanie McNasties?” “You guessed it. Now toss me a bag for Mr. Runner. He appears to have sprung a leak.”