In another reality, life is much more dire as the world tries to recover from atomic devastation and mounting sterility.
Based on the Hit show on televisions across Equestrian City, Total Wasteland tells the life and times of a man out of cyrosleep waking up in a world that seems to think hes its last hope. Fallout Inspired. An homage and satarical look at Post Apocalyptic settings and stories.
The gentle hiss of cryogenic frozen air escaped the nostrils of a resting man. A split second later he violently coughed out the new air to hit his lungs since his several hundred years of slumber. He wasn’t used to the taste. Snapping his brown chestnut eyes open, he grabbed at his throat and continued to cough violently. The man began panting while reaching to pull himself upright and out of the tube
A few people rushed forwards, causing the disoriented man to swing an arm wildly with a panicked noise. “Easy, easy,” a female voice interrupted while pulling the eager people back. “He's confused, remember? Let's give him space,” she said with her voice echoing in the man’s ears, barely audible. The blurred woman turned towards him and leaned forwards. “Can you hear me, Captain Knight?”
The man scanned around the room still in half a panic as the words began to clear up. “Captain,” she asked and he nodded despite not yet being fully focused on where each voice belonged. Tilting his head back, Captain Knight winced and shut his eyes tight from the blinding ceiling light. No doubt the years of ice forming in his soft tissue made it hard to use any of his senses. He nodded instinctively.
The grey toned male coughed another round of fresh air in and out of his lungs, his body slowly returning itself to full working order. Dressed in only a pair of grey trimmed, black boxer briefs, he stumbled out of the tube onto the cold tiled floor with his feet finding little stability. He grabbed hold of the nearby orderly or nurse, he didn't care who it was at the moment as he needed to steady himself, and quickly flashed of ingrained cyro training images in his head. The man grunted as he tipped over almost.
“Careful Captain. You’re not fully revived yet,” another woman said, this one on his left. “You need to sit back down.” The world slowly came into focus around him as her words rang in his ears.
“Where...what happened,” Knight asked gruffly, his vocal chords no better than the rest of his body. “What year is it?”
“Easy Captain, you need to focus on fully reviving. You are in a safe environment to do so,” the girl on his right said, her tone rather procedural and hardly that of a typical nurse tone. “It’s necessary after such a long slumber.”
That caught his attention though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Flashes of the past slammed into his brain, as well as a shooting pain in his right arm. Reaching over to it with his left, he realized why: it wasn’t there. Smooth and knitted flesh met his hand. The removal of it had been surgical, which meant it wasn’t an immediate concern. Though it did bother him why he didn’t know where it was.
“Easy, you’re fine. Your dimensions are being sent to R&D to get you augmented with a prosthetic limb,” the other nurse said. “Aloe, can you hold him for a second? I need to grab the data logs to make sure we aren’t missing any of his measurements.”
“I know what measurement I’d like to know,” Aloe said, a playful tone in her voice and a latex covered hand running over Knight’s toned, albeit scarred, abs.
“Hey,” the other girl snapped, slapping her partners hand. “Be professional. We’re here because they trust us.” the tone and the firmly planted heels leaving the room told Knight she was the more practical of the two.
“But we’re never really allowed any creature comforts down here, Vera,” the other girl, whose hot pink skin tone was slowly coming into Knight’s blurred vision as it recovered. “Fertility wouldn't mind if--”
“Yes. Yes they would,” Aloe snapped at Vera, walking back in with what appeared to be a clipboard in her bright blue hands. She sat down, the material of her outfit squealing as she put herself eye to eye with Knight.
She ruffled his bright orange two toned hair, its styling was half military standard and half simply unkempt due to his time in cyro. Shining a pen light into his eyes, she seemed satisfied and made several notations on her clipboard. “Who are you two...and where am I?” Knight finally croaked out, his voice returning to his lower bass tone.
“Captain, I’m Aloe. This is Vera,” the blue girl introduced herself finally, the semi medical attire she wore matching the antiseptic environment that he was becoming aware he was in. With vision slowly returning, his hearing was as well. “You’ve been asleep for two hundred years. There may be some complications due to such an extremely long sleep.” She continued, clicking her pen open again and scribbling, “what's the last thing you recall?”
Knight winced as she gave him such an info dump but nodded as it all made a small amount of sense. He focused on recalling the past and, as much as it was hurting, he felt more images starting to combine and make sense. Patches of gunfire, people screaming, explosions and alarms all raced around his head at once. Closing his eyes gently, he started putting things back in order.
“I’m...supposed to be here. Volunteer,” he started. “Military Engineering, 2nd company of…” he shook his head, losing that part of the memory. “I’m Captain Knight, military engineer.” He nodded, “lost my arm...said I’d be better frozen for the future than a cripple on the field of…” he shook the proverbial cobwebs from his head. “I don’t remember where I lived but a lot has changed.” He looked around at the technology around him, it was cobbled together and patched over older generations and models of the same type. Like a freight train hitting his brain, he saw flashes of a giant conflict involving nations and armies, tanks and planes and the final sound of an air raid siren ringing as he took a secure elevator down underground. “War.”
Aloe nodded. “Sadly, Captain Knight...” she leaned back. “War never changes.”
“That’s kinda catchy,” Vera said, rubbing her chin absently. “He got some of his biography right.”
Before Knight could say anything else, the far end doors to the room opened and the rapid echo of high heels touching the tiles filled his ears. Turning his gaze towards the door, he saw a yellow toned female and a pair of blue eyes looking directly at him as her lab jacket swayed back and forth. On the lapel, a nametag was sewn in with care reading “Shimmer”, the opposite side matching and several unrecognized logos on it to boot. “Is he damaged,” she asked coldly, coming to a halt in front of the two attending researchers and completely bypassing Knight. “Have you run a check on vitals?”
“Well hello to you too.” Knights sense of humor was slowly waking back up as well, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes Dr. Shimmer, he's in perfect condition,” Aloe said, nodding and bowing her head gently.
“I'll say he is,” Vera added.
“He's missing an arm...is that genetic? An accident?” Dr. Shimmer frowned and opened the clipboard with his name on it. Scanning through papers she still had not directly addressed him. “Ah. War veteran.” She closed the paperwork. “Can he hear me and understand me?”
“Yes. Yes he can,” Knight flatly said and raised his other eyebrow, now almost insulted.
Dr. Shimmer scoffed and looked him over slowly, tracing a finger over his amputated limb at the shoulder. “Have R&D fit him up with a mark 4.”
“Order is already in ma’am," Aloe said.
“Could somebody talk to ‘him’ he's feeling a bit like a chunk of meat here,” Knight finally said, shrugging at them all. “Give me the short version, doc.”
Shimmer put on a facade of a smile and leaned down to look Knight in the eyes. “Very well Captain. You've been asleep for two-hundred-seven years. The world population was devastated by an exchange of atomic weapons and we are the descendants of these fortunate enough to make it underground.” She stood back up and crossed her arms. “And to the best of my knowledge, which is considerable, you are our best hope the human race ever has on returning to the surface of the world.”
Knight stared at her in utter shock. “On second thought, maybe we should go into some details?” he finally said a fearful look creeping over his face.
Total Wasteland Episode 1 “Rude Awakenings” By Malcontent Proof & Polish by Alisia
***
The staring and whispering were the hardest part to deal with. Knight had barely gotten his bearings in the cyrolab when he was whisked away by Dr. Shimmer to another part of the facility. Dressed in a standard institute jumpsuit, the fabric was anything but comfortable, since he had been scratching at his neck the entire time. As he was marched out like a prize pony at a show through wide open spaces and then down small tubular hallways made of glass and metal, the whispers and pointing were always there.
It didn't take him long to connect why everyone he'd been seeing was female, or why the jumpsuit he was wearing was remarkably tight in the crotch. The right sleeve flopped a bit as he stepped closer with Shimmer, her heels clicking softly on the floor. “Keep up please. We don’t have a lot of time to get you acclimated,” she said with a breath of annoyance in her tone.
“Not a lot of...men on this level is there,” he questioned, turning back and waving at a cute technician. This elicited a giggle from the young girl before her supervisor slammed a clipboard on a table, getting her back to work. “Kind of strict too."
“Everyone has a use here, yourself included. Once you receive your briefing we’ll be able to speak on common ground.” Shimmer checked a timepiece on her wrist. “As much as a man can be on par with a woman that is.”
Raising an eyebrow to the comment, Knight kept pace until they came to a stop at another set of doors that were white and pristine like the rest of the facility. The military training he had kept him from smart mouthing her, seeing as she was clearly a ranking member of whatever hierarchy he was now part of. “Are the armed forces still around,” he asked, following her into a tubular elevator.
“I need to get you to your briefing. All your questions can be answered more effectively there,” she gave an almost monotone response as the doors closed. “As a former captain you must understand the need for protocol.”
“Former? I was under the impression I was being reinstated with my waking up, Shimmer was it?” he turned his head to face her as he asked, a smile hinting ever so slightly.
“You shall address me as Doctor Shimmer,” she snapped back, staring forward and then checking the clipboard in her hands. “What my statement meant will become clear eventually.”
The rest of the elevator ride was spent in awkward silence until the doors opened to a dark room with a single office chair sitting under an overhead spotlight. “Well that looks ominous,” he said deadpan. “Ladies first?”
“You'll find ladies are always first now compared to your last memories before sleep.” She gave him a gentle shove and the doors closed, leaving him no choice but to move towards the light with her heels clicking as she walked distantly behind him. “Sit. You need to absorb as much of this as you can.” Shimmer said, raising her right arm up and tapping a few things on her PipBoy, a series of monitors hummed to life around them and different images came up on them.
“What exactly are we--”
“Approximately 200 years ago, there was a nuclear exchange between the major nations of the world, that much you recall?” Sunset began, several shots of the surface appeared on the screens of atomic explosions. The slides on the screens switched, several devastated major urban areas before and after showing up. Several shots of broken skyscrapers and rural settings as well.
“Looks like no one won,” Knight said sadly.
“Quiet please.” Shimmer clicked another slide through. The pictures caused Knight to recoil just out of instinct from the images of deformed and scarred survivors in shanty towns, followed by a series of even more sinister looking feral humans. “The survivors on the surface were not the lucky ones. Those that didn’t die from the blasts or the radiation became food for the feral ghouls as they’ve become known as.”
Knight relaxed back in the chair and tried to cross his arms out of habit, but then realized he still only had one and simply adjusted. “The immediate issue aside, the future of humanity is the population drop but not due to the bombs.” A slide went through with several graphs and charts, all on the downward swing, followed by a curve upward. “Given regular conditions, twenty or so generations would be all that was needed to begin the race again.”
“We are resilient.” Knight smiled, scratching the itchy tag on his neck. “What exactly is the issue you need me for?”
The lights came back on as the doors behind them opened with a chime. Aloe and Vera came in with a silver cart holding several items, including a PipBoy. “The main issue we have doesn't require your intervention directly.” Shimmer walked to the other end of the room, setting her clipboard down on a lone table at the end. “What we do require, is your expertise in several areas. Our stock of educated engineers we have in cyro is limited, and the fact we could even get you to wake up after so long is a miracle.” She turned and crossed her arms.
The two girls began to measure his left arm and then lifted it to attach the PipBoy to him, a biometric lock sealing as he jumped in surprise at the sealing and clicking. “They made these death locked now?” he raised his eyebrow, asking the girls, who simply giggled and left a duffle bag of items next to him, silently leaving him in confusion. Sunset looked over her own PipBoy as the doors sealed, leaving them alone.
“Inside you’ll find several tapes on the latest advances in weaponry and engineering principles. I suggest you study them.” Shimmer looked back up. “To answer your crude question, a male like you is in short supply.”
“Why? Because I’m an engineer or a man?” Knight began to catch on to a hint of misandry.
“Both.” Shimmer smirked briefly, but then sighed. “Get those tapes running and get up to date on everything. I’m going to need you useful to me.” She turned and picked up her clipboard.
“How am I supposed to do that with one arm?” He waved it at her. Before he could make another snarky comment, the floor around him clicked and the circular platform he was apparently sitting on sank suddenly into the floor. “Ahhhh!” his startled yelling becoming distant.
“I was just about to mention that.” Shimmer smiled to herself before walking to another set of doors and exiting just as quickly.
***Title Sequence***
*** Theme: Virtual Insanity by Jamiroquai ***
***Fade In***
A shotgun blast of memories and scenes hit Knight as he tried to focus mentally. Different ideas and voices all sent his mind into different directions, each adding confusion.
“We've got unconfirmed reports of nuclear detonations on the west coast. Please evacuate to your appointed stations now.”
Another set of screams, gunshots and babies crying sounded in his mixture of memories.
“...lucky to make it back alive one arm or not…” “We need to get this vault sealed now! Get everyone down to the basement!” “Sir, the doors are closing!” “...move I said!” “...unsure what went wrong…” “....going to be entering cryo sleep to preserve…” “...can't let stock all go bad…” “...he’ll be useful to the next generation if projections continue this trend."
Knight let out a gasp and tried to sit up, only to feel himself strapped down. Confusion coursed through his mind and he glanced around only to be treated by several hands all holding him down.
“Easy, Captain. You're out of surgery and it went fine. The anti rejection drugs are having an effect on your cardinal pulmonary system,” the familiar voice of Aloe said to him. The voice made him relax as he heard it, familiarity eating him down.
“What...what happened?” he croaked.
“We had to put you under and do some basic attachment preparation for your prosthetic. It's not as simple as screwing a hook into a stump these days,” she commented, standing up and walking out of sight.
“Did we figure out how to grow limbs,” he asked jokingly.
“Not entirely no. We did bridge bio organic and machine however.” She wheeled a cart back and he saw a crude yet very menacing looking prosthetic. It was silver, almost polished chrome. It looked like a smaller version of the support skeleton of typical power armor, but made instead of housing a limb, replacing it. She picked it up and showed it to him. “Mark 3 replacement part. You're getting cutting edge, Captain.” She seemed impressed. “These usually require a brace or a harness to keep it on.”
“Self powered,” he asked half horrified but the engineer in him fascinated as he stared at it. “How's it interface? How does it read pressure needs when--"
“I just attach, I don't build’em handsome.” She smirked and set the arm into place near his amputated shoulder. The flesh had been prepped and embedded with pins and wiring, as well as a series of locks that were mirrors on the arm. She set it into the join and it locked loudly, followed immediately by a gentle whine of machinery inside powering up. “There's a cassette on how it all works in your PipBoy,” she finished and turned.
Knight felt a new sensation travel through his right shoulder as the arm came to life and interfaced with him. A fascinating and fast configuration seemed to occur between his body and the wiring. He flexed his right fingers, the gentle machinery sound followed as each one moved, filling his ears. He stared in wonder as he tested it and the range of motion he had. Knight smiled, undid his straps on the table and stood up, only to then realize he was nude.
Aloe turned around and didn’t seem to flinch as in her hand a dark navy blue jumpsuit with a symbol he wasn’t familiar with on it. It resembled an umbrella viewed from the top down or some sort of gear for machinery. “Don’t worry, Captain, unlike my sister, I’m not entirely interested in being overtaken by hormones.” She shook her head, smirking and tossing it to him. “Get dressed. Dr. Shimmer needs you to meet her as soon as you’re dressed.”
“I was beginning to think everyone was looking at me like some sort of freak. Not a lot of men, at least that I’ve seen.” He began getting dressed, having trouble with his new arm, he nearly tripped but caught himself. “Though I can’t help but be a bit insulted, I’m sure I’ll get over it.”
“Oh don’t worry, plenty of others will be all over you, no doubt.” She picked up a clipboard and scribbled a few things on it before turning to face him again, looking him up and then slowly down, stopping midway and giving a nod of approval. “Looks all good.” She set the clipboard down, glancing him over one more time. “Though you’re the first upclose specimen I’ve seen that wasn’t on a holding tank camera out cold.” She turned and walked out the only door of the room. “Out the door, head left, you’ll find her in her office, Captain.”
The sound of the door closing sounded as he found himself alone again, still somewhat unsure of what was going on. He pulled his PipBoy up and popped a tape into the loading bay, turning it on as he continued to dress. “Captain Knight. These tapes have been prepared to help acclimate you to the current state of the world, and the situation we are in that requires your help. Listen closely, I realize someone of your gender may have certain attention issues, but please think with your big head and pay attention,” Dr. Shimmer’s voice played as he finished dressing, shaking his head at her tone.
“Lesson one: Fallout.”
***
Dr. Shimmer crossed her legs, the fabric of her lab coat rubbed against her modest skirt. Most of her outfit was an antiseptic white which matched the rest of the Institute decor, save for the department symbols her lapel carried. One was the overall organization stamp: a renaissance classic figure modified to their image of humanity. The second was her own department, Fertility, that consisted of several embryos surrounded by the classic cartoon version of sperm swimming at it from all directions.
Staring down at the papers on her glass desk, she frowned and shuffled several aside and then back again. Expression unchanging, she turned to her terminal, typed in several keystrokes and began to load in the camera feeds from her level. After toggling the views, she noticed Knight was walking slowly down the main hallway staring at his Pipboy, no doubt listening to a lesson she’d left him. She followed his movement silently, all the while her expression shifted gradually until the yellow skinned girl flipped more switches and the feeds.
A room filled with large human sized holding tubes flickered onto the screen. Inside each one was a male with a respirator keeping each from drowning in the holding fluid. Several sets of tubes were attached to each body with the most predominant ones being the one from the repsiator and two from his groin. None of them seemed awake to the worldly activity, where the lab coat garbed women was walking back and forth, reading vitals and reloading empty collection canisters.
Shimmer tapped the mic on her terminal, making several jump and turn to the camera. “Dr. Shimmer?”
“Dr. Heartdrops, I was looking over your projections and I've got some concerns.” Shimmer began flipping a few papers. “Before the next directorate meeting I have to attend, can you explain to me why your projecting our current stockpile of fertility stock will drop by 75% on the female and 59% on the male side?”
The teal skinned scientist walked closer to the camera and motioned for her staff to continue. Adjusting her hair and folding her arms politely she nodded. “Dr. Shimmer, as you know our current stockpile of frozen embryos were rejuvenated some time ago,” she motioned to the camera to tilt to a nearby tank. “Our suitable male breeders are running on automated simulation software.”
“It keeps them in a state of dream and coaxes sperm out of them at a higher rate than conventional breeding methods.” Dr. Shimmer nodded and folded her papers back in order.
“Correct, but the problem is it's simply using them up as an overall organic product faster than normal the life span. A typical male will be useful from age 13 to age 58, that's only 40 conventional years until we have to find someplace to put them so they can serve out the last years with use. Labor. Custodial. Corpse disposal...” she walked back into camera range. “That lifespan is considerably dropped by our extraction process. It’s inevitable were going to burn through our pre-war stock before too long. I wish you’d let me keep the one you let up and walk around. His DNA would be quite useful in--”
“He's more useful to me on the project I'm running,” Dr. Shimmer interrupted. “If I can get the data I need with his help, your milking machines won't be needed anymore down on level E.” She rounded out her comments with a smile. “And we'll have more entertaining things for you and your staff...that are fertile...to contribute.”
“I see.” Heartdrops adjusted her lab coat a bit and smiled. “Well won’t that be fun,” her tone was admittedly uneasy about the entire idea. “Dr. Shimmer, the few notes you've given us about your ultimate solution are a bit concerning. You realize you may empower the very gender that's responsible for the state of the world?”
“Doctor. My project will ensure a balance is restored. I'm no fan of the fact were essentially enslaving these males.” She flipped a folder in front of her open. “If this fellow can do what’s needed, all your projections won’t be as dire as they seem to be at the moment. “
“As you say, Doctor.” Heartdrops nodded as Shimmer turned off the feed, leaned back and kicked off her heels before groaning and clenching her toes and fingers at the same time. With her arms stretched above her head she tensed her whole body and then finally relaxed.
“Your appointment is here, Doctor,” an intercom buzzed near the top of her far wall, shaking Shimemr our of her semi state of relaxation.
“Send them in,” Shimmer grunted and turned back, putting her shoes back on hastily.
The main office door to the room opened with a small hiss, the interlocks on the closure loudly opening. Loud footsteps and the small jingle of bottle caps filled the room as a large male entered, his demeanor contrasting the room. Dressed in rough and well used but still relatively new looking clothing, he was clearly no stranger to conflict. His outfit was composed of a black jumpsuit with the Institute’s logo on the collar and shoulder pad, which was hardly new but the armor strapped to his arms and legs was, though they still were showing signs of battle. Each piece matched the rest but all of it was purposely designed to invoke a level of intimidation to whomever looked at him. Leather gloves creaked a bit as he reached up and holstered his rifle.
“Mal.” Shimmer leaned back, clearly not entirely pleased to see him. “You’re early,” she said and folded her hands in her lap. “What have you to report?”
Mal rubbed his chin, the grey skin flexing a bit as he did this before his hand slid up through his ruffled up black hair. “Doctor.” He pulled down his goggles, revealing his purple hued eyes with their center split like a reptile and holding the faintest glow. “No pleasantries?” He gave a small grin, a pair of fangs being revealed to match his mutated demeanor, the throaty sound of his voice like sandpaper to the ears continued. “I’m fine, thanks for asking.”
Shimmer leaned forward, sitting upright to face his approaching form, as if prey sizing up a predator’s attack line. “Hello, Mal. How are you? Oh by the way, how’s the settlement you raided and residents you killed,” she asked smoothly. “You’re lucky we let you run our errands now after that stunt you pulled in 111.”
“Not my fault she didn’t want to give up the kid.” Mal walked closer, hands on his hips as he closed in on her. “Your people you sent with me were hardly ready when that other pod popped open. They’re all lucky to be alive,” he sneered at her and put his leg on the windowsill behind her, looking out across the interior of the main atrium. “You’re all lucky I took them all out before they could--”
“You could have salvaged the infant,” she coldly said, crossed her arms and slid away from his leg. “YOU are the fortunate one. What you brought back to us wasn’t entirely alive, but we were able to salvage the DNA from it. The generation three project recovered despite your mess up,” Shimmer’s tone became very stern as she looked up at him, less then intimidated.
Mal looked down at her and pursed his lips, somewhat annoyed by her lack of fear he was used to from the Wasteland. He stuck a toothpick in his mouth and his eyes scanned around the desk, spotting the folder she’d been working on. “Ah, your new boy toy?” he stepped down and looked at the paperwork.
Shimmer pulled the paperwork away before he could look very hard at it, closing the entire folder up into her desk drawer. Purposefully facing away from him, she began to look over meaningless paperwork to avoid eye contact.
“I remember it wasn’t too long ago you were fascinated by me, checking, prodding…” he leaned down to her ear... “exploring all the ins and outs of your first real live male.” He snickered. “One that wasn’t a specimen in a jar that is.” He leaned back as he felt her shoulder, his gloved hands making her recoil a bit.
“Don’t,” she said. “Whatever your delusions, my interest in you was and is and always will be purely scientific.” Shimmer turned and stared into his inhuman eyes. “Mutations like you may hold keys to our survival.” She turned back. “Your...other qualities I explored were...mere benefits of my position.” She blushed a moment but adjusted her skirt and turned back to him again. “Now, if you’re done with your bravado?”
“As long as you’re done asserting your dominance, or lack thereof,” he asked as he slammed his boot to the ground, making a fake salute. “What can this field operative do for you?”
“Your particular violent skills are needed in the western part of the wasteland.” Shimmer pulled another folder from the drawer and threw it towards him, the contents shifting and sliding out slowly. “The warlords in that area are getting organized.”
Mal looked at the folder and pictures inside, picking it up and smirking. “Raiders don’t get organized.” He flipped the pages slowly and skimmed the reports. “They lack the intelligence generally...or they wouldn’t be raiders.”
“These ones are. Despite the savage and feral nature of most of their kind, SOMEONE has got them organized enough, they are starting to knock out our scouting parties. We’ve lost several in that area. A lucky distress signal told us what we were dealing with.” Shimmer turned back to another folder and looked through it.
“You want them recruited or eliminated?” Mal closed the folder in his palm and then tucked it into a small backpack he wore.
“They represent a problem to our fertility scouting. We need them dealt with...” she looked up from her papers barely. “In whatever manner you find most effective.” She looked back to her work. “That will be all.”
Mal chuckled and adjusted his goggles, covering his reptile eyes and loaded a magazine into his rifle again. “It’s your dime, doc.” He pulled his left arm up and tapped the PipBoy display a few times. He stared back at her, a wider more sinister grin covering his face now. “Don’t toss and turn without me now, sexy.”
Before Shimmer could respond, a blue glow rapidly encircled him and he vanished as the teleportation system kicked in, sending him to his requested coordinates. She threw a pencil where he had been in frustration and crossed her arms, leaning back in the chair, a look of disdain on her face.
***
“This concludes your basic lessons of the world. Report to me, Dr. Shimmer, once this tape finishes. Try not to keep me waiting.” The tape on Knights PipBoy clicked to a halt and he maintained his astonished look. It was quite the info dump he took during the time the tapes played. Taking a few steps the gentle sound of rushing water barely registered in his ears. Knight sat on a small metal bench in what was a pseudo park in the facility. With his eyes still glued to his PipBoy, he didn't register the person’s shadow overtaking him.
“Hey there!” a remarkably and rather surprisingly happy voice said to him, snapping his trance from the display. Looking up, he turned his PipBoy onto power saver mode and took in his visitor. Before him stood a perky looking woman, so much so if it were possible she’d have been shedding pure sugar. Pink in tone and hair, her blue eyes stared down at the man out of time, her hair bouncing as she leaned down and completely violated his personal space, nearly nose to nose. “Whatcha doing?!” she asked.
“Er...” Knight was taken back by her forwardness. He was, so far, viewed as some sort of relic or resource, no one had dared to speak to him as a person. “Sitting here. Kind of just, learning what’s been going on while I was asleep,” he answered.
“Oh! You’re probably really overwhelmed by it all.” She sat next to him. “I’m Pinkie and I’m pleased to meet you!” she shook his hand, taking it from him. “Hey! You’ve got a fake arm! How’s that work?”
“I’m not entirely sure, Miss Pinkie, was it?” he flexed his fingers as she shook, the sensation he felt still new to him. He drew back out of caution to make sure he didn’t hurt her. “I’m still learning, Ms Pinkie.”
“How do you like the future? You know this is the present to me but the future to you,” she said with the same enthusiasm she had prior. “I can’t imagine what a shock this is for you.” She put a hand on his shoulder, patting and rubbing. “The war was pretty awful from what they teach us, but we’re surviving down here the best we can.” She continued... “I can’t imagine what it was like seeing it all happen. You’re really lucky but not, if you think about it all. Which I suppose you have.”
“It’s still all sinking in. In fact I have to go see Dr. Shimmer, once I figure out how to get there.” He nodded, looking across the atrium to see most of the staring eyes on him were from the other researchers, who quickly diverted their gaze as his came in their direction. “I guess I need to start heading there.”
“Dr. Shimmer’s office is two floors up and three doors from the elevator.” Pinkie stood up and straightened her coveralls with the Institute insignia on the shoulder. “I should know, I’m part of The Welcoming And Morale Organization!” she smiled proudly. “Or...WAMO!” she giggled and motioned to him. “Come on, I’ll walk ya there!”
Knight finally cracked a smile, standing up and taking her offered hand. “Thank you, Ms. Pinkie.” He grinned wider as he stood up. “You really made me feel like less of an object and more of a person.”
“Well duh! You’re a person! I don’t care what the rest of them think. Male, female, we’re all people!” she smiled as soon as she saw his smile, as if it fueled her. She walked with a slight skip in her step, making their way to a cylinder glass elevator.
Knight watched as she tapped in a code and the doors opened a short time later, getting inside the elevator with his new friend. “You’re certainly something else, Ms. Pinkie,” he said as the doors began to close.
“Oh, please!” she gave a small laugh. “Just Pinkie. Ms. Pinkie is my mother.” She rubbed her chin. “Well actually that’s not true.” She smiled.
Knight listened to her continue on, the doors closing and the gentle lift of the elevator taking them upwards. He was surprised, pleasantly for once, how one person could change his entire state of being after such a chance encounter. He hoped the future wasn’t as awful as the tapes had been telling him after all. A quick lesson of her life and Pinkie left just as quickly as she’d entered his own life, leaving him to Dr. Shimmer’s door. He waved back, his prosthetic arm whirring as he did. He turned back and knocked on the door finally.
“Who is it?” a video terminal flickered on next to the door, the grey skinned girl stared back at Knight with apathy in her eyes. “Ah,” she said with the similar monotone response. “Knight, wasn’t it,” she asked.
“Yes, ma’am.” He nodded.
“Manners. Atypical of the classic male presented in history,” she remarked. “I’m Maud, Dr. Shimmer’s personal assistant. I’ll let her know you’re here. Have a nice day.” Her tone never changed as she rifled off her remarkably unenthusiastic words. At the same moment, the monitor flicked off and the doors opened.
The doors in front of him unlocked and opened. He walked in reluctantly, noticing the chair was turned to face away from him with the slightest hint of Shimmer’s hair above the top of it. Creeping in almost, he stepped on a pencil, recoiling back and leaning down to pick it up. “Dr...Shimmer?”
“I assume you’ve listened to the tape and understand the danger you’re expected to face up top?” the chair remained facing the view of the main atrium. She stood up and kept her gaze out and away from him entirely. “No doubt you have questions your primal thinking hasn’t been able to process?”
Knight held the pencil in his right hand, walking slowly and standing a respectful distance away. “I’m pretty sure I’ve got the basics, doctor,” he answered, looking over the office and taking note of several things out of place compared to most of the other orderly items. Papers strewn about and a picture frame facing down on a distant shelve stuck out the most, though the dirt on the floor also kept his attention as well. Compared to the rest of the facility, that was a rarity to see. “I know the environment I’m heading to, but I still don’t understand why you need me. I’m not primarily combat based,” he continued. “I’m certified in engineering and what you’d call pre war technology.”
“Yes, your skills are engineering based, and that's why I’ll need them in the field.” She turned, arms still crossed, her hair fluttering softly as she did.
“I’ll be happy to train your staff you need to--” Knight began, only to be cut off.
“No, Mr. Knight.” She took several steps and looked at him sternly. “YOU are going to be going out into the wasteland with ME.”
Knight went wide eyed at she said that. “Wait...what?” was all he could say.
Total Wasteland Episode 2 "Preperations" By DarkMalcontent Proofs by Alisia
2287 (217 years post Great War)
CIT Ruins, Commonwealth Wasteland
Dash released a heavy sigh as she brushed a few rainbow colored strands out of her face. She rubbed her dry, itchy, bloodshot eyes with speckles of the sand she was subjected to, uncomfortably mixed with the irritated veins which were visible on the whites of her eyes. Shifting her position, Dash examined her surroundings that were off the main walkway utilized by the local merchants and rape gangs. Upon seeing no one, she pulled a crisp white box of smokes out of her dark, stained and dirty gear. She knocked the box against her leg, pulled out a wrapped stick and slipped the box back into hiding while pulling out a lighter in one fluid move. The wind quietly blew as she lit the marked end of the cigarette, took a long drag and propped her leg up to rest her arm, releasing the smoke. “Better not be late,” Dash grumbled, watching for the one which doubled as her employer as well as her lover to return.
“Wish he’d hurry it up,” she said softly after a few minutes, looking around casually for any trouble that might sneak up on her. She’d learned to keep an ear and an eye out after working as a Pit Fighter before she became entangled with Mal. The nights and sometimes even the days you had to be careful you weren’t jumped in the back of the warehouse bunk area and robbed, raped or both.
She narrowed her eyes as a flood of unpleasant memories swam through her mind as that last bit of knowledge fluttered away from her mind. She recalled a group of rough girls and even a male who cornered her in the back of the bunkhouse. Might of got me then, she thought, puffing another smoke ring in front of her. But I got them back. She smiled ever so slightly. “One by one.”
A sudden burst of air displacing caught her ear and she spun to be blinded by a flash of white light. Raising her iron sights of her carbine, she took aim, only to bring the sights down as she saw the source. Standing in front of the old CIT building and among the crumbling ruins that were left from the centuries old nuclear blast, was her current contract holder and bed partner, Mal. The bleed off of the displacement and lights still crackled around him as he turned his head towards her and laughed. “Kept you waiting, huh?”
“Was wondering what happened to ya.” She stood up, resting the carbine on her shoulder as she walked over to him. The leather straps of her armor creaked softly and hugged her slim and rather flat chested figure, rubbing against the ‘tactical’ shorts and holster top. The remaining exposed skin she showed off put her in contrast to the world around her. The dull blue skin didn’t mix well with the environment. The only real armor to be considered were on her arms, working and retrofitted military armor plates which had a symbol etched on them, the same as Mal’s chest plate.
Mal’s rebreather muffled his voice, but she could hear his chuckle. “I just bet you were.” He pulled a small sack that was slung from his right side and tossed it to her. “Here ya go. Fresh from Requisitions.”
Dash caught the sack awkwardly and some of the items spilled out, several packs of cigarettes and a set of vials marked “Psycho”. Quickly gathering them up, she began stripping the items out and putting them into various empty pockets of her leather armor. “Damn good thing too, I was nearly out.” She smiled, happy to be paid. “What’s the job this time, love?”
Mal jumped over a pile of rubble and down to her level of the ruins, grunting softly and pulling his mask off to hang loose. “Oh you’ll love it. We get to deal with Raiders.” He pulled a smoke out himself and lit it with an old but sturdy looking flip top lighter. The etching on the side read “Vault 76”, though it was starting to wear down. “Not just any though, these ones can think.” He puffed a brief cloud of smoke and motioned for her to follow him.
“Smart Raiders, eh?” Dash said, somewhat hesitant to put the words together. “Seems like oxy...er…”
“Moron,” Mal finished her sentence, smiling at the double usage.
“Yeah, that's it.” She narrowed her eyes a moment but kept walking, their boots disturbing rocks a bit as they started to clear the meeting place. She wasn’t much for book learning, most of the lessons she learned in life were the hard way, and she didn’t like being talked down to. She made an exception for most of Mal’s antics for a few reasons, most of them material based. Dash ignored his insult and kept a somewhat decent smile on her face. “We’re heading West? I take it the Theme park is where we’re going?”
“I knew there was a reason I liked you with me.” He smirked at her, looking her up and down. “Aside from you having a nice arse.”
“We’d move quicker if you kept your eyes off it as much as you do.” Dash smiled back, half teasing. She didn’t mind the attention, mainly because he was the first male that didn’t just attack her on sight or was dumber than a box of rocks. Having one take a shining to her was a blessing in the Wasteland, not to mention his ties to the ever-so-secret-slightly-terrifying Institute technology. Making their way to what was left of a main highway, they kept a decent pace. “Why couldn’t we just zap our way over there?”
“Complicated reason, it’s a nice day anyway.” He knocked ashes from his cigarette. “Besides, you always said you didn’t mind hoofing it as long as there was something exciting at the end of the road,” he finished.
“Aye, I did.” She kept two paces behind him now, bodyguard mode kicking into her brain. “Suppose I should just shut my trap.”
He chuckled and walked on, reading several messages on his pipboy as they cleared the ruins. “Not a bad idea. I'll let ya know when I need your mouth.”
An uneasy silence began between the two, until finally he turned on his radio and the gentle sounds of swing music filled their immediate area.
***
“Ok, I literally just finished chapter 1.” Knight stood in shock at Shimmers revelation. “I can't simply go out into this world you've described with as little data as I've been given.”
“I wasn't asking you, male.” Shimmer sat down at her desk and shuffled papers, her gaze down at her work. “You've got until my innoculations are approved by the directorate to familiarize--” a loud ringtone interpreted them and Shimmer turned to face her monitor. “Yes what is it?”
“Priority summons from the Director.” Maud said flatly, the screen switching to a darkened board room.
“Dr. Shimmer,” a distorted yet distinctly female tone sounded from the monotone speakers. “Your request for Surface Work has been reviewed and the Directorate has declined it.”
Shimmer’s look of shock was apparent, followed by one of anger, calm and collected, but anger nonetheless. “Director, my expertise will be vital to--”
“Your expertise is vital to the work here.” The voice cut in and sternly reminded her. “However, you will be able to keep in touch with your surface operatives. We’ve been in contact with Advanced Systems and they are sending over a communications solution for you.” The eyes of the shadowy figure narrowed. “You will comply or face expulsion. That is all.”
Shimmer sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose, leaning back in her chair and taking in all she’d heard. She barely remembered she had a guest until Knight shifted in place. Perking up she tried to maintain some semblance of authority and began to shuffle papers. “You'll be working for me. Your first order of business is to acclimate yourself to your new surroundings. After that you're to head to this area.” She handed him a crudely drawn map. “There you'll find what scouts have insisted is a dead vault.”
“Dead you say?” Knight asked unsure if he wanted further clarification.
“Hopefully not in the literal sense but no communication or movement has been seen, yet scouting parties report the main vault door has been opened. No contact, just a few ghouls.” Shimmer replied, looking at Knights arm. “I see your tissue is not rejecting the arm.”
“Fits like a glove.” He rotated his new appendage. “So to speak. Fascinating technol--”
“It's quite advanced so please don't monkey with it too much. I'm sure as a man you have urges but I suggest you find some local infertile to get your jollies.” Shimmer interrupted, looking down at another folder. “Once you’re at the vault, procurement of resources is your own problem.”
Knight paused as she interrupted him and any ease he felt vanished and was overtaken by the awkwardness of her seeming disdain for him based solely on gender. “What is it I’m supposed to procure for, Doctor?” his final word filled with as much venom as he could.
“Your first directive, agent, and I use that term loosely, is to stabilize power, water and of course food and basic shelter issues. After that, you are to begin retrofitting the existing structure to become a working settlement.”
“I'm building a town?” he raised an eyebrow.
“You're doing as you’re told you--” she closed her eyes and smiled, seemingly clearing her anger away. “You are lying down infrastructure for phase two. You'll be part of this entire project from start to finish so I'll give you a bit more latitude and trust I would any surface operative,” she continued. “As the tapes you were supposed to listen to told you, the current population projections are not looking very good. Overall we’re dying. Both above and below ground.”
“But your Fertility department has a fix for that?” he asked.
“We hope so.” She adjusted her lapel slightly. “At least ninety percent of the remaining population above is female. Of the ten percent that is male, only five percent are none feral.” She turned in her chair to face him directly. “Of that five percent only three percent are educated. Which means you being--”
“An engineer, combat efficient and speaking in complete sentences makes me enticing to anyone,” he concluded. “Or a valuable asset..er target.”
“Yes. Which is why I'm taking a great risk. The collective mentality was to simply hook you up to a milking farm and try to squeak out a few more generations with your DNA. I had a more grand solution.” She turned back and pulled a folder from a pile and opened it.
“Well. Thanks for not turning me into some sort of commodity?” he said a bit leery. “What's your solution?”
“It’s fairly complex but what we're doing here lays the groundwork for it.” She laid a graph out on the table. “Basically we know most of the male data is correct. We need to find a reasonable data pool that defines the female fertility numbers I postulated. If we can get both those, I can start to move forward on stage three.”
“Which is?” he asked inquisitively.
“Not a concern now.” Shimmer snapped to him, crossing her arms defiantly. “You need to get down there, secure the site, cleanse it and report back to me.” She flipped her hair out of her eyes as she finished. “Is that clear?”
He paused for a moment, all his training made him want to simply answer immediately, but the military side of him was conflicted with the human side. Part of her plan made sense, but there was a nagging feeling he couldn’t get away from. Still, he couldn’t quite figure out what she was hiding. Finally he snapped his head up and nodded to her. “Yes Ma’am,” he finally said, a firm tone of respect he’d not been using summoning up in his words. “When and how do I leave?”
Shimmer smiled. “Better. I like this. You’ll leave as soon as Advanced Systems gives you what you’ll need to stay in contact.” She tossed him a holotape. “Load that in and follow the map to their wing, male.” She sat down and pulled a folder up, beginning to thumb through reports. “You’ll hear from me soon enough, dismissed.”
A tone of familiarity swept over him, like the warm embrace of a lone, lost lover as she addressed him. Her tone and inflection was more to what he was trained to receive, though he had to admit, her lack of respect for him still nagged at him. It was clear she didn't like men, which wasn’t a problem for him in general. He’d met plenty of men and women in his tour of duties that preferred the company of their gender, or even both genders at once. This dislike from her was more personal he felt, intense or both.
As he mused on all this, he followed the map leading to the Advanced Systems wing and stopped just outside it’s doors. The identification terminal took longer to approve him than he cared for, the nervousness of the automated laser turrets pointing at him finally relaxed as the doors parted and he was granted access, sealing behind him as he walked through them.
The same sanitary environment the entire facility before was present, though must more of the interior was used for large consoles. Each console had a flurry of work flipping across monitors and automated tasks working on them, each themselves with blinking lights as they calculated their tasks. Several technicians and other scientists were too engrossed with taking down their data on their clipboards to notice him as he took several steps in, the doors closing behind him with a soft rubber on metal contact.
One scientist looked up and seemed somewhat startled, turning to her left and walking into another room, she called out to someone he couldn’t see. “Ma’am, the male is here.”
“Bothersome timing, but alright, I’ll be there in a moment.” A clearly annoyed voice said in the distance. The clicking of heels on the marble floor echoed as the annoyed women came into view, her lavender hair in a bun and a set of sticks holding it in place. Dark rimmed glasses were pushed up as she lifted her gaze from her work to notice Knight. “Ah. You must be the male. We’ve heard alot about you.”
“I have a name.” Knight raised an eyebrow. “Knight, Doctor..?” he left the sentence hanging hoping to engage her a bit more personally.
“I’m in charge of Advanced System. Dr. Twi Li.” She said somewhat flatly, turning on her heel. “Follow me, male.”
Knight sighed and walked behind her, his arm twitching a bit as the connections to his flesh and machinery fired wrong. “Gah.” He held onto the side of it, walking quickly.
“Do be careful with that. It’s the most advanced prosthetic we have.” Dr. Li said, turning at a small island inside her lab space. “Give me your Pipboy. I’m told to give you teleportation codes.” She reached her hand out expectantly. She seemed less than thrilled as she brought his human arm down to the table and opened the back paneling with a small flat tool. “Hold still please,” she asked, noticing his body moving still.
“Sorry, Doc, it’s the arm, must still be getting tuned.” Knight said as he did his best to hold still, a flexing of his muscles in his real arm to hold it still, even as another jerk nearly hit a set of standing beakers on the table. “Dammit.”
“There’s no need for course language.” Twi commented as she installed a flat chip into a hollow slot on his device. “No one else but the security forces get these. THAT should tell you how special you’re being treated.” She scolded him as she replaced the paneling and turned to look at his arm. Frowning at something she saw, she picked up another tool and popped open his shoulder plating without another word.
“Hey careful!” He startled as she opened his paneling.
Twi didn’t respond as she dug around inside, the small wiring harness popping out as she did. “Here’s the issue. Whoever set this in didn’t change the interface. It’s meant for a female.” She flipped several small pins and a set of jumpers. Picking up a small needle nose plier, she dug in and hit something that made the arm go dead weight.
“Hey! “ Knight startled as his limb went limp. “What are you--”
“Calm down, no wonder the world is the way it is. The male sense of savage is one thing to read, another to behold.” She touched the same place again with the tool and it came back to life. “There, it should work better. Well, as well as for someone of your gender.” She clicked the paneling back into place and pushed her glasses up.
“Your bedside manner is amazing, Doctor.” Knight said, his arm flexing as it booted up. “Thank you. However, it feels more real.” He smiled at her. “The chip too, I assume I just enter in x and y coordinates and away we go?”
Raising an eyebrow, the doctor seemed impressed if only for a moment. “No, map coordinates aren’t needed. I’m surprised you can read those. But there’s a series of hot spots we have security teams teleport to across the Wasteland.” She pulled up his mapping tool on the device. “You need but to select one and the sequence begins when you press teleport.” She canceled out the program. “When you’re ready that is.”
“Fascinating. How were you able to re-assemble a whole person? I can understand a simple object, but--”
“It’s far too advanced to even pity you with a break down. Rest assured we’ve had no mishaps since the new system update two years ago.” She shivered as she referred to the incidents.
“Incidents?”
“Your mapping system can add all sorts of hot spots, we’ve just never been interested enough to flesh out a system of different teleportation markers. Don’t use it too much, like you, it’s memory is limited.” She walked over and picked up a clipboard. “Off you go.”
“Thanks again.” He hesitantly said, feeling more and more like a lesser being as he turned and strolled passed several ogling technicians and other personnel. Taking a left as he exited Dr. Li’s lab, he walked out of the wing and past the doors, their seal sounding behind him.
***
Abandoned Scrapyard - West of Fort Hagen
“Ya hold onto that thing pretty close. Is that a souvenir?”
Mal looked up from the flickering fire, the flames just starting to grow to a adequate size when the question hit him. The item in question, a flip top lighter with the Vault 76 emblem on it. He closed it with a simple gesture and leaned back, staring at Dash through the growing fire. “Looking for a bedtime story?”
“Ha, not likely. This works out pretty much the same. You'll eat. We'll fuck. We'll be back on the road after I get some shut eye.” Dash smirked, no hatred coming off of her but clearly it wasn't genuine adoration either. “All part of the deal.” She lit a stick match and puffed on a new smoke. “Mmm much better.” She blew a ring of smoke up in the air as she brushed her bangs free of her bloodshot eyes.
Mal's eyes stared at her still, their purple glowing color accenting his mutated split irises. “Not like I need sleep as much as you.” He kept staring as he continued, bringing the lighter to view.
“Old. That's for sure. Just like you if your to be believed.” Dash mentioned, looking down at the trinket. “What are ya 200 years old?”
“247.” He corrected her. “I was 20 when I entered Vault 76.” He spun the brass and gold plated lighter casually. “You know a bit about Vault Tec yourself I've noticed.”
“Not a lot. Don't get into that egghead stuff. But I do know they were not what they were supposed to be. Those vaults were nothing but giant tombs for evil experiments.” Dash knocked an ash off next to the log she was sitting on, a distant frog making a croaking sound as she did. Turning to look at it hop by, it stopped and warmed itself by the fire. “While you all were cherry in them air conditioned vaults, the world turned into this. Those that made it out were scarred and not just on the outside.”
“Partially correct.” Mal acknowledged her with a smile. He leaned back on the stump he had chosen to perch on and picked up his backpack, rummaging through it. “The vaults for the most part were awful. Immoral experiments from sound manipulation to isolation studies. Radiation experiments and virus study on unknowing victims. All to find out the answer to those two burning words: what if?” he unrolled a sleeping bag and laid it straight on the ground.
“And you were a what if?”
“No my lovely Dash.” He zipped his pack up and set it to the stump next to him securely. “I was in what was called a control vault. No experiments. After all, you can’t compare results without some normal folks to compare them to when all is said and done.” Mal pushed his glasses up his nose slightly and smiled. “No, this lovely result you see is the result of over exposure and a new radioactive shielding drug.”
“Seems it worked. You're alive.” Dash started, nibbling on a pack of mole rat jerky she had pulled from a pocket on her skimpy harness. “‘Cept the eyes.”
“Regardless. I didn't start out like this nor did I get it from a vault experiment. Rather I left my vault on time as we should have.” He leaned back and smiled at the stars. “Vault 76 was filled with the biggest and brightest the country had to offer. We were to rebuild the world from the ashes. I was chosen because they knew civil disobedience and counter insurgency was going to be a problem no matter what scenario played out.” He looked back across to Dash. “So they chose me. Top of my class in law enforcement and military police training. Then I focused on special forces programs.”
“I take it the world wasn’t as primed and ready for rebuilding?” Dash stood up and took off her gloves and tossed them aside, tying her hair back in a sloppy ponytail for the evening’s activities.
“There’s a reason I like you. Just smart enough to keep up.” Mal smiled, his fangs just barely present as he did. In turn to her disrobing, he began to shed his top layer, his jacket going first and his gloves next as he made room for her next to him.
“So ya make it out, world is a mess, you just give up?” Dash moved next to him, unbuttoning her pants and a few latches on her chest harness, revealing more skin then previous to her lover.
“Not precisely. You see, the world was more of a mess then we thought, but after a while, I made due with the tools I found. Made it to an old bunker where the computer system was more then willing to help me reactivate a series of new resources.” Mal continued, pulling at Dash’s pants and then her harness, looking over her scarred but still reasonably flawless body. The smallest hint of ab muscles glistened with sweat as she grew closer.
“Oh yeah?” she smirked. “Robot overlords?” she sat down as she pulled herself to his lap. Straddling him, she gave him a kiss on the neck, slowly making her way down to his exposed chest.
“That would have been more helpful.” He laughed softly, his hands roaming up her back, tracing over the scars from what he could only guess was a massive bladed weapon. It had healed poorly, but it wasn’t really a problem. To him, she still had all the things that mattered to him. “No, they were automated nuke silos. Handy as hell. Once fired, they restocked and rebuilt another missile in hours.”
“Wait..what?” Dash leaned back, shocked and slightly offended. “You mean YOU were firing more nukes off AFTER they fucked up the world?!” she huffed, almost moving to get up, had his hand not grabbed her bare bicep, circling it and keeping her in place.
“Don’t you try to pace judgement, Dash. You’ve been hopped up on chems and sleeping with people for thrills and caps most of your life,” he reminded her. “That is when you weren’t beating the living crap out of people for more chems and caps?” he cocked an eyebrow as his words hit home and she eased up a bit. “Besides, you didn’t let me finish.”
Dash gave a long stare at him and her face relaxed, though if it was because she was interested, or was being paid to be, was hard to tell. “Keep going.”
He pulled her closer with his Pipboy set for proximity alert to keep them from being ambushed as their foreplay continued. “There was a greater purpose. The world was doing fine, rebuilding itself. That was until something else happened upon the world: The Scorched.” “Never heard of’em.” She said absently, leaning forward and nibbling at his ear. “Sounds like a buncha hopped up raiders.”
“Raiders would have been easier.” He grinned as the nerve endings in his ear fired as she worked her mouth over his lobe. “But this plague was responsible for wiping out most everyone who had begun to rebuild. Raider, Responder, Settler, it didn’t care. All it did was consume, turning you into one of them or simply killing you.” He tilted his head to give her access to the other side, his hands running down to her sides and to her firm ass, giving it a squeeze. “Long story short, the generals of these things, huge giant bats, would breed underground until they’d overrun caverns and break through to the surface.” He grunted as she bit slightly harder than he liked, his response being to tug on her ponytail.
“So where do the nukes come in?” she asked between kisses, her own hands running down his equally scarred back and shoulders.
“There were only so many points they’d force themselves up to break through. Ground was softer or something, I don’t know why it only worked in some places.” Mal undid his belt and unzipped his pants between them, pushing her hand down into the waistband.
“Ah. So you’d blast them as they came..up and out?” she asked, teasing as she grabbed worked around in his now open pants.
“Almost.” He grunted, shifting his weight. “Nukes were used to collapse the breaks in the ground they pushed through, seal them shut for a time.” He gave a louder gasp at her activities.
“Mmmmhmmm.” Dash smiled, enjoying the semi control she was able to hold over him, ever so briefly. “So you beat the scorched and saved the entire world? Doesn't explain those eyes.”
“Not exactly. Long story short, running clean up on the nuke zones is not the safest of things, but a needed activity to collect samples to learn more about them. Collected enough over time to help turn the tide.” He leaned back and looked down at his companion. “Course, I also spent enough time in the radiation to get a few..unwanted gifts. The side effects you see before you, among other things. Helped kill the queen beast too, but that's another story for another time.” He stood up and disrobed the final bits he needed to. “Let's get to what we know will speed the night along for you. No doubt you’d like to sleep?”
“Hopeless romantic.” Dash shook her head, staring up as he disrobed. Pulling off her harness and the last of her clothing, she perched on her knees in front of him. “Fine by me.”
***
“Well that just left a bad taste in my mouth.” Knight said softly as he walked along the curved hallways of the Institute. The subtle water trickling of the artificial environment whispered into his ears. The sudden alert tone on his PipBoy snapped him back to focus again. “Knight here.”
“Has your chip been installed?” Shimmer asked over the speaker, a gentle crackle sounding with it.
“Chip installed. I'm on my way back.”
“Don't bother. I've sent the solution to my inability to be topside with you your direction.” She answered back quickly. “You'll no doubt need some provisions and weaponry. She’ll take you to the quartermaster and then you two are to jump out immediately.”
“Whose this teammate?” he asked curiously, his footsteps slowing down as he remained focused on the PipBoy screen. The spectrograph moving in time with Dr. Shimmers voice.
“S-537. Generation 3 synth. You'll be able to sort things out as she’s got a very detailed set of programs to run and will be whom you report to get to me.” The stern reminder in her tone made him stop in her tracks. “She’s got an experimental long range transmitter we’ll use to communicate to you when it’s needed. You listen to any and all directives as if they were..” she laughed softly. “As if I were standing there giving them to you.”
After a brief pause Knight nodded. “Yes ma'am. Knight out.” He switched the relay off on his Pipboy and sighed. “That's all I need, they might as well shove a leash up my-”
“Pardon me.” A voice interrupted him with an almost delicate tone compared to Dr. Shimmer. “Are you Operative Knight?”
Turning to the voice, Knight immediately widened his eyes and stared at the generation 3 synth before him. Dressed in a lab coat with reinforced stitching and several other modifications for cross country travel, was a girl no more than his age. More distracting was the obvious fact that her appearance was a young but still remarkably identical version of Dr. Shimmer.
“I'm to be utilized by you for the rest of my life span.” She said, calmly extending a hand. “I'm S-537. But the lab gave me the name ‘Sunset’.”
Total Wasteland Episode 3 “Relics” by DarkMalcontent Proofs and Polish by Alisia
Exterior of Vault 88, Quincy Quarry - 2287
Popping open a small plastic pouch from his belt pouch, Knight pulled out a single pill with the word “RADX” written on it’s side. Looking it over for half a second for damage, he popped it into his mouth and dry swallowed it with a distasteful grumble coming from him as he did. “Never get used to these things.”
“They are pretty vital.” Sunset, or S-537, said in response. “Thankfully I don’t have to use any myself.” She walked with him, hauling her own small bag of supplies on her right shoulder, the re-enforced lab coat fluttering as they walked.
“Must be nice.” Knight responded, stepping over a series of destroyed blocks of quartz that had been weathered with age. “Not having to worry about radiation. It was the first and most important thing I was taught in survival classes.” He offered a hand to help her over the debris.
“No doubt. Radiation is very dangerous to a fully organic life form.” Sunset smiled as she leapt down from the long drop, landing with ease and no apparent need for his help. “But I was referring to the fact it’s better for YOU that I don’t. I’m not good as a burden and less RADX for you makes our chances of success drop.” She kept walking, somewhat indifferent to his offer.
“Right.” He adjusted his shoulder sling on his rifle and stepped to catch up, the Geiger counter on his Pipboy ticking a bit more persistently. “Seems like we’re getting close. Intel said Vault 88 was built into the side of a rock quarry, but the rock quarry…” he said, looking up and sighing at the landscape. Littered with orange and white barrels all with the hazardous material warning on them lay strewn about, some even still leaking and broken. “...Was also like so many other places...a waste dump towards the end of the war.”
“Strange.” Sunset widened her eyes. “Why would a world that needed basic building materials like one would get from a quarry contaminate their own supplies like this?” she jumped down a dangerous distance and landed easily again, her exterior shell much more durable despite it’s seemingly normal skin.
“Towards the end, if I remember correctly...” Knight leapt down and grunted, falling forward into her arms as he lost his footing. Surprised but thankful he stood up, using her as a steady point. “Thanks.” He dusted himself off. “Towards the end, they were running out of places to store the stuff. The side effect of using nothing BUT nuclear power.”
“I’ll say.” Sunset replied bluntly. “The byproduct of all the extraordinary energy had to be stored somewhere. It makes--” she turned her head towards a distant doorway built into the rocks.
“Yeah,” he simply responded, the plasma rifle on his back coming to bear as he crouched down and stared at the same place. Having both heard the movement, their weapons were already primed, her Institute laser pistol ready.
Knight didn’t have the same systems at his disposal as his teammate did. He was flesh and bone for the most part save a cybernetic right arm. The old training from his military service never really went away. Despite being seen as a lesser soldier being an engineer, he still had the training to keep himself alive if need be, and it had kicked in just as his companions sensors had.
A battle cry that sounded like a guttural growl came from the doorway. At the same time a grenade came flying from up apong on the rocks. Several raiders, all dressed in mismatched and scavenged clothing, popped from the doorways along the side and began firing at the two travelers.
“Grenade!” Knight shouted, racing forward and diving behind a set of rattling catwalk railing for cover. At the same time he glanced back to see Sunset moving the opposite way, out of instinct no doubt, and into the line of fire. She paid little mind to the several shots on the ground in front of her as they were both firing wildly towards the raiders. “Down, get behind something!” he shouted, pulling up the smart sight on his rifle.
Sighting several up top on the ridge of the rocks, he tagged two of them with bursts of fire, the plasma rounds hitting them in the chest and shoulder. The burning continued and sent them to the ground howling in pain before they fully expired. The third one he shot exploded in a flash as the round hit dead on and the attacker turned to a bubbling pile of green plasma residue.
Several rounds hit near Knight’s shoulder, making him recoil for cover, giving him a moment to check on Sunset again. She was firing wildly, which wasn’t very helpful from her place behind a abandoned trailer. Peeking from behind his rocky cover, he spied a set of four, including one in power armor, or what passed for it in raider terms. Welded plates and rigged up armor sheets covered the apparent leader’s chassis.
“Look out, that one’s the problem you morons!” she yelled, coming to the same conclusion Knight had of her, the voice emitting from a crackling speaker. A long armor plated finger pointed at his location as she shouted new orders. “Kill that fucker, NOW!”
Knight narrowed his eyes as he saw the remaining gang turn their attention towards him. Ducking back as a new salvo of pipe rifle and rifle rounds glanced off the rocks, kicking up dust and knocking off more and more rocks from his cover. Turning his plasma rifle’s dial to full auto, he leaned the barrel out and started firing suppression fire at the main cluster of his attackers. Most shots went wild and hit nothing but the ground or remaining structures, but one shot as luck would have it rang true and struck a support strut on the last few sets of catwalks above two of the raiders. Before they could react, the heavy barrels of radioactive material crushed them both, their cries cut short as the entire overhang went down.
“Starky and Bill are--” the last girl said, her leader cutting her short with a shove towards Knight’s location.
“Shut up and flush him out, but don’t kill him. He’ll be useful.” The raider in power armor chuckled deviously, her intentions clear with her tone.
“Oh good, that’s what I need.” Knight leaned back in and spoke under his breath while reloading a new plasma cartridge into the butt of his rifle. Pulling the slide back the main receiver whined back to life as he turned back, sighting down his rifle to the pair of now vanished attackers. “Shit.”
“Aww what’s the matter, lost me?” a taunting voice said, the sound of approaching footfalls above him sending his glance upwards. The non armored girl dropped down on him, barely missing his neck with her handmade blade, sparks flying as it connected to the rocks. “Hold still you piece of meat!”
Knight moved quickly to keep alive, ducking back from another slice from the girl, letting out a grunt of his own. Backhanding her with his real hand, his rifle went flying behind her, leaving him with just close quarters combat. Glancing toward Sunset, he couldn’t see her, but those were the least of his worries as the raider engaged again, her blade missing his side and grazing his fake arm, sounding a dull metal on metal echo.
“Some sorta freak show, ain’t ya?” she grinned widely. “That's ok, meat don’t need to have all it’s parts, just what's between those legs.” She slashed and then tackled him into the rocky cliff, knocking the wind out of him nearly. “GOT YA!”
Knight grunted and tried to recover, his footing failing him and sending him sliding down to the ground. Looking up he groaned as the girl hit him square in the chest, stunning him. Coughing in response, he kicked her own legs down and her body twisted midfail. The sickening sound of her own blade impaling her in the chest brought her sounds to an end. “I've heard of aggressive come ons but that's a bit too much.” He sat up and dusted himself off.
Rolling to stand up properly he reached his plasma rifle, stopping short of picking it up as a shotgun cocked loudly above him. The leader held a modified combat shotgun, aimed down on him from an elevated position just to his left.
“Dont worry handsome. I'll be gentle.” Her voice crackled and then she chuckled. Her loud steps in the power armor echoing on the catwalk. Moving towards him she trained her sights carefully, the gridiron improvised shielding she’d welded to the chest barely giving anyone a fair shot at her face from below. “Now that you finished off my girls, seems it's only fair I take their fair share of your ass for myself.”
“Ya think that's entirely smart?” Knight raised his hands and stared up at her. “Males must really be useful if you could lose a whole squad and still only worry about me.” He kept her talking as he eyed up the catwalk supports. They looked as decrepit as the rest but he would need his rifle.
“You should really shut up.” The power armor creaked a moment as she changed her position. “I'm going to take my time with you. Really enjoy myself. Been too long since I've had a good-” A series of three shots rang from behind the leader, causing her to freeze in place.
“Fuck!” she cursed as her power armor whined in protest. The fusion core Sunset had shot free falling to the ground and leaving her almost entirely immobile. She still had enough energy to open fire at Knight however. The first shot hit him square in the real shoulder, sending him spinning and out of the rest of her few desperate shots. The helmet of the armor popped open as a safety precaution and the alarms alerted the raider her armor was on empty now.
“Told ya you shouldn’t have been focusing on me.” Knight grunted, his roll to his rifle causing him untold amounts of pain with the buckshot in his shoulder. Despite the anguish, he lined up a sloppy shot and fired at the support struts of the catwalk sending the last threat into the radioactive water.
“You fucking asshole. I'll kill you I’ll-” was all her final screams could muster as the catwalk pinned her exit valves on her armor and drug her beneath the water. A maelstrom of displacement bubbles surfaced as the useless armor that was the raiders tomb sunk out of sight.
Knight relaxed and grunted as he tried to stand, surprised at how quickly Sunset had made it to him to help. “Easy, Knight. I've got ya,” she said, helping him hobble to the edge of the water.
The bubbles lessened and finally a few final ones were all that came up as the raider inevitably drowned in her suit. Knight pulled out a stimpak and shoved it into his arm that had taken the hit, the healing slow but steady as it knotted back together. “Nice shot.” He smiled at her.
“Thank you. I was waiting for the perfect moment.” Sunset responded as she helped him into the doorway they originally stopped at. “Looks like some raiders had made camp before we arrived.”
“No kidding.” He chuckled at her statement. “Nothing we couldn’t handle.”
“Nah.” She smiled at him and kept holding him up with remarkable strength. “Nothing at all.”
Holstering his rifle a bit more securely, Knight walked straight passed the walled single makeshift rooms and into the back where a community room made by the raider’s sat, then he checked the map on his Pipboy. Looking around to oriente himself, he finally turned sharply left and stared at a bookcase. “There. Behind that.”
Sunset reluctantly let him walk towards the hidden entrance, his stimpak working the wonder it was supposed to on his injuries, and began to help him move the shelve. Heavier than it looked, the two grunted while the wood strained as it shoved aside and revealed a large open cavern entrance. Dusting off his hands, Knight pushed a button on the side of his Pipboy. A shoulder mounted flashlight rose, coming to life and lighting up the way in front of him. “Stay behind me. Any other crazed rapists come at us, it’ll be me they come after.”
“You mean raiders?”
“Same difference it seems,” he said gruffly, aiming his rifle in front of him with the green piping on the side flashing ready.
“Are you alright?” she hesitantly asked as interaction with humans clearly was not her forte. She received nothing but silence as his figure disappeared into the shadow of the cave. The uncertainty of human interaction was one of the few handicaps Sunset had. Searching her database of information, she noticed her companion leave her sight and quickly moved to catch up as the darkness overtook Sunset’s figure as well.
The footsteps were their only company for the moment until the two came to a halt as the catwalk they were on creaked and strained with age.”Uh oh.” Knight said softly.
“Corrosive agents present, coupled with decades of wear. We need to watch our step. You especially.” Sunset commented, stepping more precisely on the flooring. “I could take a fall. You might be able to.”
“Noted.” Knight said, replacing his bold steps with delicate motions as his destination came to within reach: A mounted door control console with a security plate over the main coupler firing switch. Layers of dust pushed aside to reveal a link port to open it. “Ah ha. Here we go,” he said softly, his shoulder lighting moving a bit erratic as he shifted in place to unlock an analog linking wire from his pipboys rear panel. Tugging the cord out for some slack, he blew another puff of dust from the port and finally linked in.
“Universal interfaces.” Sunset mentioned, looking around the cavern slowly. “Handy and quaint.” she slowly opened her own light around, a simple hand tool with the institute logo. “These look like weapons fire. Looks like someone tried to open this door before.”
Knight’s face was glued to his Pipboy display as she spoke to him. “No doubt the automated defenses cut them down. Thankfully I'm bypassing those now. No doubt the synth scouts had a similar bypass or we’d not have got any info--” a massive set of gears and motors began moving in the distance finally. “-at all.”
Several more jarring sounds filled the rocky cavern, each louder and more complex in their interaction. The massive inner workings of the vault’s door was coming back to life with the motors of the main interlocking arm gripping the door, echoing in their ears. Finally with a groan of metal on metal, the huge cog like door pulled itself free and slid to the side, bathing the two in yellow flashing lights from inside. The final crunch of the door sang as it came into its final resting place, fading from Knight’s ears signaled him to start his decent down from the ledge. “Alright, let's get down there.”
“Already on it. Reading radiation levels higher than normal but not life threatening, Knight.” Sunset already had her counter out and its needle twitched ever so slowly as she said that. “Recon reported same levels. No apparent changes.” She continued as the catwalk up to the massive entryway groaned under her movement. Several sets of footprints in ages worth of dust were the only signs of life. “No one but the recon team has been through here,” she informed in a manner-of-fact tone as she stared down at the dust.
“Why do you say that?” Knight asked as he hurried in behind her, his shoulder light beam dancing around carelessly as he navigated the catwalks. “Can you tell shoe size?” he joked.
“Yes.” Sunset replied and stared a moment longer, a subtle twisting in her irises gave the slightest hint of her internal processors working. “Not to mention depth of dust and the slight stagger XJ-71 has.” She stood up straight and continued through to the main lobby and screening area.
Knight silently gave a wider eyed expression as she continued to impress him. “Makes me wonder why I'm even here,” he said softly, his boots kicking up dust bunnies as he looked around the ceiling. “Structural damage is...damn near zero,” he commented, the engineer in him coming to the surface.
“For all my database and software, the one thing I lack is the more chaotic nature of the human brain.” Sunset answered as she kept moving forward, picking up a overturned table and setting it straight. “I could easily clean this place up. But I couldn’t do what needs to be done with it without your expertise.”
“Not sure why not. I learned from teachers who learned from books.” He twisted in place and checked the wiring that was hanging loosely from a ceiling panel. “Hmm. May need new conduit in some places. Something's been chewing on that.” He made mention offhand, startled as he turned to face Sunset who had silently returned to mere inches from him.
“Books and technical manuals can have uses.” The light in her hand disappearing as she conserved its powercell. “But no one still alive has had any field experience in over two hundred years. For you, it was days ago, perception wise.”
Knight felt a chill run down his spine as she reminded him of the utterly incredible situation he was in. He was, for all intents and purposes, the last engineer upward and mobile for a hundred miles. Based on what Dr. Shimmer had said he was the only intelligent male for hundreds of miles too. He shook off that creeping lonely feeling and went back to assessing. “Well let's get to the power room. Fusion generator should be hot still.” Knight cleared his throat and walked down a hallway to the left of the screening room they were in. “Be careful. Who knows what sort of ghosts are still here,” he said jokingly.
***
Appalachia Commonwealth, Vault 76 - 2102
“Well this is a bust.” Mal commented, kicking the remains of a skeleton, a long lost soul trying to get into the vault during the war no doubt. “I was hoping for something more grand.”
“What were you expecting? A parade? It was a war. A big war.” Sigma, a fellow vault dweller and brilliant ecologist asked as he adjusted his own vault suit. Checking over his Pipboy he stared at the readings. “Looks like the radiation played havoc on the landscape and the weather. More so than we were thinking.”
Mal knelt down at a fresher corpse and looked it over. “Not looking good. This one's fresher.” He stripped the girls corpse of a machete, the deathgrip on it snapping a few fingers. “Not ballistic. But not plasma. Looks laser based,” he commented on her wounds, covering his nose. “But still quite a while ago.”
“Must you field strip the dead?” a third voice asked, a female and almost aristocratic tone in her voice. A pale pink colored girl adjusted her own Pipboy, the suit she was in was identical to their own. The blue fabric and gold piping gave any casual observer evidence they were brand new, and completely out of place.
“Yes, Puffy. I must.” Mal answered, collecting a handgun from the corpse as well and a crumpled up letter. “This isn’t going to be easy on anyone whose prepared for the cut-throat nature were about to meet. Let alone the more, shall we say, delicate experts from our vault.” He latched the machete to his back and pulled the dead girls clothes off, rummaging through them. “Besides, with that fashion eye that you've got you surely need a new outfit.” He snickered and stood up, offering the clothing.
“Ugh. Please. Someone died in those.” Puffy scoffed and walked off towards a set of stairs heading down from the platform they were on. “I wouldn't be caught dead in--” Her voice cut short as several red laser blasts hit her in the shoulder, chest and temple. The last shot ended her life without a further word, sending her body ragdoll and rolling down the stairs.
“Down!” Mal yelled and pushed Sigma to the concrete while drawing the newly discovered pistol to a readied stance. “Looks like we were expected!”
“Puffy! Puffy!” Sigma shouted and looked at her rolling corpse, the last throes of post mortem twitching shaking out of her. “She's dead! She's dead!”
“I know Sig!” Mal knocked his companion in the back of the head. “This wasn't going to be pretty we all knew that. Now stay down and shut up!” he changed his position and peeked over at the source of the shots. “This is why they put people like me with you eggheads.”
2287
Mal snapped his eyes open from his meditation. The reality of his here and now swept back to his brain and his mutated features lit up with a sudden surge of awareness. Looking over at his sleeping companion, he checked his Pipboy and looked back to the sunrise. He admired it for half a moment before standing up and picking up his clothing from the nights activities. He wouldn't call it love making, more of a business exchange.
“Sun always rises.” He muttered softly. “You were right Sig. Sun always comes back.” He put his shirt on and tightened his belt after he tucked it into his waistband. “Should have learned to duck though.” He chuckled as he walked over to Dash and nudged her semi nude form.
The companion he kept for several years now stirred and a groan of protest came out of her crumpled form. Another shove from his boot woke her up more. “Aww come on. What time is it?” she checked the horizon. “Not even sunrise? Fuck me.” She flopped her head back down.
“Already did that. Let's go. We have to get to the Nuka World parking lot today,” he said as he began gathering his items and breaking camp quickly. “Come on. No time for breakfast or any other pleasantries.”
“Oh for cripes sake, Mal. I'm not even awake.” Dash began to haphazardly assemble her clothing and rebuckle her harness straps.
“Here,” he pulled a vial from his pocket on his jacket and tossed it: Daybreaker written across it. “This should get you going.”
Dash's bloodshot eyes lit up as if she'd been given a piece of candy as she examined it. Pushing the end of the vial a small needle popped out, causing her to grin in anticipation.”Who needs breakfest when I've got this.” She jammed the needle into the crook of her elbow and the chemical cocktail emptied into her.
A shiver ran through the girl's entire body as she lost hold of the empty vial. It clattered to the ground harmlessly as the euphoria washed over her and brought her senses back. Lazy eyes gazed forward as the rush peeked and sent another wave up through her in reverse, sending her up to her bare feet. She stretched and flexed her muscles in a state of invincibility that she felt. “Fuckin’ awesome!” she almost growled in pleasure.
“Yes. It is.” Mal smirked as his remark no doubt missed her senses completely in it's TRUE meaning. He finished packing as his half naked companion did the same at a faster pace.
She gave his body a few extra squeezes and kisses as she raced to ready herself, the chemical doing its job. “Alright let's get this shit going! Ain't nothing going to stop us, Mal!” she hoisted her backpack and walked ahead of him briefly as the surplus energy she had burned away.
Taking a white box from his shoulder pack, the ancient survivor of vault 76 peered in with his equally ancient eyes. Noticing he had 4 left, he took a cigarette and chewed the filter a bit before lighting it. Snapping the brass lighter shut like clockwork, he turned to face his hyper strung out lover, chasing after her direction.
***
The final ghoul dropped dead to the floor of the reactor room, the sickening thud of its squishy flesh signaling its departure. Knight ejected an empty chrome canister from his plasma accelerator, the hollow metal echoing in his ear softly.
“Well.” Sunset said, standing up from her hiding spot near the entrance of the room. “I have to hand it to you, you're much better at combat than I could ever hope to be.” The leather holster she slid her sidearm into latched shut as she turned to him. “That's not a standard plasma weapon is it?”
Knight pulled an identical plasma cartridge from his side pouch, inserting it slickly into the top loading port of his rifle. “No. It's a custom build. I had the lab whip it up from what little I could remember.” He cocked the side and his weapon whined to life with a full charge again. He looked over the small panel on the side for a moment and then slung it to his shoulder by its strap. “As much as I enjoyed the civil engineering elements of my life, everyone should have a hobby.”
Sunset nodded gradually as he said that, slowly comprehending its meaning. “You, as a non-combat zone engineer, enjoyed lethal weaponry?” she asked finally, walking with him towards a massive power unit that took up half the room they were in. Her eyes darted to the left to a small table a ghoul wearing a vault suit had fallen. She knelt down and picked up the item, a rectangular keycard with the vault tec on it.
“Ironically, yes.” He chuckled as his hands explored the dusty keyboard and monitors on the fusion reactor. Dials and readouts long since forgotten still danced with life, carefully re-adjusting themselves and staying shy of a meltdown. “I enjoyed building, but I always wanted to know more about what destroyed the things I built.” He finished as he threw a large knife switch from the up to the down position on the unit. “There we go.”
The groan of several small turbines spun to life inside the unit before them. Slowly gaining momentum as decades if not centuries of dust and lack of upkeep was whisked away from inside. The lights in the room flickered and began to glow brighter with full power reaching them. The whining of the reactor coincided with several arcing bolts of electrical power now visible inside the machines viewing screen. “Hey, we may have gotten--”
“WARNING. CRYOGENIC STASIS FAILURE. ALL MAINTENANCE AND RESPONSE TEAMS TO SECTION PCS-1 IMMEDIATELY.” a crackling yet absurdly loud computer voice shouted through the loudspeakers of the room they stood in. “Failure in pods 1, 2, 4. Pod 2 holding at status yellow. Warning. Pod 2 has sustained significant structural damage.”
“Well that's not promising.” Knight shouldered his rifle and brought the sight to his eye level. “Come on, let's go see who's left alive.”
“Alive? I don't understand there are no records indicating any life pods or storage containers for this vault!” Sunset gave an alarmed response as she stumbled up the stairs with her escort directly in front of her.
“Clearly recon didn't do all their homework.” He answered back, eyes front and following his gun sight and light beams as he secured the tight hallways of the deserted vault. “Clear so far. Move up. Follow the arrows.” He motioned his head to a sequence of lit arrows indicating where the alarm was coming from. “This place is user friendly at least.”
“Maybe we should not be running into an unknown room with unknown variables?” Sunset offered as they rounded a corner and stopped at a large sealed door.
“Terminals locked. Can you do anything with it?” Knight scouted forwards and back behind the way they came. “We’re clear for now.”
“Maybe we don't want to open this door just yet. Ever think of that?” Sunset offered again, her tone more aggressive but mildly frightened. Still, she began to type away at the terminal and ran a bypass program.
“We need to shut that alarm off or it'll attract something more unpleasant than an automated recording.” He replied and leaned closer. “Wait can't you just plug in?”
Sunset scoffed. “That's not how a synth works.” She balled her fists up a moment in frustration. “I am made of mainly organic parts. I eat. I sleep. I don't plug in like a toaster!” she crossed her arms and stared at him, the alarm still sounding.
Knight smiled and nodded to her. “I apologize. Please see if you can open the door so we can turn the alarm off?” he smiled more at the end of his request. “Before a deathclaw or worse comes wandering in?”
Sunset redoubled her efforts at that previously unthought scenario he presented and within 4 tries she'd opened the door for them. The seal broke on the door and cobwebs wisp away as it did.
Knight walked in first and secured the room, motioning for her to enter as well. He looked to the left side of the room and saw four cyropods, each with a different colored plaque on the front, all seemingly sealed. The other side housed the computer terminal making so much noise, several lines of errors on its flickering screen. “I'm assuming that's it?”
“WARNING. BREACH OF PCS-1 BY UNAUTHORIZED PERSONS. ENACT LEVEL 1 RESPONSE.”
“Oh we so need to shut that down.” Sunset worriedly pointed out as she typed away at the controls. Navigating through sub menus and different options, several keywords seemed encrypted or corrupted. “Half of this isn’t workable. I think I can turn this off though.”
“Level 1 gas canisters primed. Releasing in 20 seconds.” the computer warned.
“Oh you realllly need to turn that off now, Sunset!” Knight glanced around the ceiling and noticed several turrets ready to fire their payload at them.
“Almost got it.” Sunset answered back, her eyes scanning back and forth as she found the menu she needed and hit abort. “Got it!”
“STANDING DOWN. WELCOME. THIS IS YOUR AUTOMATED OVERSEER PROGRAM. NO ALL CLEAR HAS BEEN RECEIVED FROM VAULT TEC HQ. PLEASE ENTER YOUR KEYCARD FOR RELEASE SEQUENCE.”
“We're good for now according to this.” Sunset typed casually as she sat down at the monitor. Peering at the lines of words, she began to assess the situation. “Looks like a long term sleep study maybe? Hard to tell. Most of the data is corrupted.” She continued typing. “Pod one is labeled “C”...and the rest I can't make out.
Knight walked over to the first pod and brushed the window clean, startling at the skeleton inside with several broken seals on the side of the unit. “In this case, C is for Corpse.” He sighed.
“L and C, pods 2 and 4 are offline too.” She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. “They at least died in their sleep.”
“All of’em?” he tapped the third pods window softly, trying to peer in.
“No.” she paused and typed a few more keys. “Pod 3 is a student of some sort. Life signs stable.”
“This student got a name?” he squinted and brushed more frost from the glass, barely making out a lavender toned woman of 30 years in a peaceful dream state.
“Twilight.” Sunset responded. “Twilight Sparkle.” She turned back as she answered. “She's been asleep for at least 220 years.”
[Hard cut to Black] [End of episode] [Instrumental version of Virtual Insanity]
“Cold and Bitter” By DarkMalcontent Proofread by alisia
***
Appalachia, Eastern Commonwealth, 2105
Mal groaned as the world around him came into focus. The dimness in his vision cleared away as he tried to sit up. Hands slipping lower, he hit his head on cold metal behind him, sending a jolt of pain followed by numbness through his skull.
“Careful.” A stoic remark came. Filtered through a speaker, it dripped with unrealistic concern. “You've been passed out for….some time, General.”
Mal sat up slower this time and held his head as he came full upright. Waves of a throbbing headache bleed off as he groaned. “MODUS,” he said softly. “Last thing I remember I was fighting another scorch beast queen. She had me on the ropes. I was dug in behind a tree.”
“Yes. You were unsuccessful in destroying that particular queen.” MODUS replied, a monitor popping on next to Mal. The middle aged face of MODUS flickered into view. Not a human face by any stretch, but an amalgamation of several programmers for the AI it was representing. The most striking element was the round ping pong glasses it wore, hiding its eyes. “You succumbed to the….radiation of the area. We were...able to retrieve you using some of our assaultron we used as ...proxy...for that area.”
“Spying on me?” Mal swung his legs around and tried to stand, the world very unbalanced from his bout with death.
“We prefer to...think of it...as..” MODUS paused, the damage over the decades to his memory banks causing glitches at times. “Looking out for our friend.” He finished, the screen changing to a grinning version of the avatar.
“I'm sure. Turn the lights down. It's killin’ me.” Mal held his hand over his eyes, adjusting his glasses carefully. He had but one spare set and wasn't planning on losing these ones. Looking down to the floor he found his boots, reaching for them. Hr didn't make it far before he got dizzy from the height change.
“You really shouldn't be moving too much. We've been examining your… body while you slept.” MODUS chimed in. “We've made fascinating discoveries.”
“Yeah? I grow a third arm?” Mal chuckled, ignoring the advice and slowly but clumsily putting a boot on.
“No such...aggressive mutations present thankfully for you.” Another set of monitors popped on near Mal, making him wince in pain.”Your sensitivity to the light is not merely from your sleep. The eye aches you complained of for many months seem to be associated with a sudden growth of a Tapetum lucidum in your eyeballs.”
“Ok. I'm not a doctor. Do I have cancer, MODUS? Has all the radiation I've soaked in, then cured, soaked in, then cured over the years finally done me in?” Mal winced as he tried to look at a screen. “Cuz I'm going to be so pissed off if it's the case.”
“While we do think….this is associated with the volume of radiation you have...soaked...in over your time with us.” MODUS changed his expression a moment and displayed a bar graph. “We must admit that no one we have...hmmm..worked with...has ever endured as much radiation as our records indicate you have.” The display switched back to a grinning face. “Well, at least none who lived longer then twenty-two minutes.”
“Bottom line, MODUS.” Mal grabbed a pair of sunglasses and found that made the low light tolerable. Standing up, he straightened his uniform with the Enclave symbols a bit shabby for all the wear and tear he’d put it through.
“Yes. We...forget your background is...not medical.” MODUS chuckled. “You have, by our estimations, become one of the few documented cases of a positive mutation event. Typical...mutations in the lab setting needed extracted chemicals and serums to do such things...you...have the recipe...for lack of a better term.”
“Well at least some good came from the raiding of those queens.” He took a few steps, adjusting to the balance he felt gone moments ago.
“Yes. The...specimen...runs were quite successful it would seem.” The matter-of-factly statement caught Mal’s attention.
“You planned this?”
“Certainly not this...it was however...always a possibility you would..show some new mutations like so many others before you.” MODUS admitted. “We merely meant the tissue and resource samples you've...procured us...over these many...years have not been in vain.”
Mal picked up his gun belt and rifle from the table, the clicking of automated turrets and assaultrons moving about in the hallway filling his ear. He stopped cold when the doors did not automatically open.
“We would like… to share another revelation in our...hmmm...examinations.” MODUS said cooly, popping up on a standing terminal near Mal. A blood panel and cell sample graph appeared suddenly. “Based on...previously documented..samples of your body. It would appear another effect has occurred. This one more...important to tell you.”
“Go on,” Mal hesitantly said, staring at the data, a desperate clutch on his firearm.
“It appears…” MODUS popped back on the main screen. “Your cells have had their aging slowed down by some 99.7 percent.”
Nuka World Tram Station, Commonwealth 2287
Mal stared off into the distance, waiting for Dash to finish her pit stop. Puffing smoke in a brief cloud in front of him, he stared at the patrols of mercenaries walking the old world tram station. Safely hidden and crouched down, he had been studying their patterns while his lesser partner relieved herself behind a rock.
The wind blew gently and pushed the few bangs from his eyesight. The gentle glow of his split iris’ purple ring the only real color on his figure. Worn leather and other straps were all meant to conceal him during his operations. On his arm armor plating was the black and red lighting bolt of the Enclave Airforce, dulled with age and weather.
“Shite.” Dash stumbled from behind, her voice barely audible to him. “What the hell makes ya pee neon red? What the hell was in that DayBreaker?” she grumbled, her irish accent breaking through despite her attempts to suppress it. Zipping up her meager coverings she crouched down and snuck up next to her boss, a smoke in her mouth by the time she settled in.
“Ready?” Mal stared forward, eyeing up one of the weak points of the compound parameter. “They move in a decent pattern but the one coming up...” he pointed at a larger female, her rifle slung over her shoulder lazily. “Isn't focused entirely.” He motioned to the girl further left. “That leaves her vulnerable.”
“Guns blazin'?” Mal heard her ask as she tightened her harness around her chest. “Or quiet as a mouse?”
“Don't want the whole squad coming down on us immediately. Knock out the left with subtle lead poisoning.” He screwed a silencer to his pistol with a snicker. Checking the load out on the side, he flipped a switch and a small whine followed by a series of green lights flickering to life on the receiver. “And you do that thing you do to the lazy one.”
“One dose of Dash Downer outta bring that tower of a bitch down.” She smiled, loading a chemical cocktail canister into the butt of her Syringer rifle. “This thing may have been meant for wild animals, bit it's going to be lights out for that amazon.”
“Charming to the last.” Mal ran a possessive hand over his partners ass before slapping it softly. “Go.” He smiled as he brought the iron sights of his pistol to bear.
“With pleasure.” Dash grinned, her eyes locking on her victim as she moved to keep in the shadows.
Mal concentrated a few more seconds, waiting until he heard Dash's footsteps taper off. Satisfied with the timing, he took to steading his pistol with both hands as he closed an eye. A distant stare of 1000 miles came over his face before the muffled shot hit the air. The girl in front of his sights grabbed her throat as his round silently cut her windpipe. The gentle clatter of the woman's rifle alerted her lazy companion as anticipated, giving Dash her exposed neck.
A similar muffled sound echoed near Dash as her round fired and stuck into her target, the contents of the canister injecting rapidly on impact. As the yellow fluid vanished from sight, Mal watched as the girl grabbed her neck and tried to scream. Nothing came out as her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped to the ground like a sack of bricks.
Mal smiled as he stood up, jogging across the old parking lot to reach the bodies. A shot of plasma echoed into the air, stopping him cold in his tracks. Looking at the source, he cursed softly while looking at his partner. The drugged out girl was no doubt in paradise in her mind, but was spasming in some sort of climax. The resulting trigger pulls sent random gunfire in the form of plasma bolts at him and Dash, sending them scrambling to dodge.
Glancing towards the main gates, Mal heard the tell-tale sounds of mechanical legs. “Well she fucking blew this going quietly all to hell.” He complained while unscrewing the silencer and tossing it into a pocket on his jacket. His thumb flipped a switch near the trigger, changing it to automatic fire. The reconfiguring module in the pistol charged, the deadly harbinger of its whine piercing the air.
Shouting and boots hitting pavement grew closer, followed by stray opening shots that strayed wide. Mal ducked behind an overturned hull of a centuries old nuclear powered car as the green tint of plasma rounds shot past.
Glancing to his companion, Dash had ditched the stringer, thankfully, and was returning fire from a set of trash cans. The plasma rounds lit the front of the cans, the bleed off making her duck out of instinct. He heard the automatic ballistic fire from her carbine cut through one of the attackers, confirmed by a wet thud near his position. Tilting his head out, he got a quick glance of the opposition.
Three heavily armed Gunners with automatic plasma rifles wearing full sets of combat armor were their front line. Behind them were lighter armored infantry. Of them all only two were male, both wearing control collars of some sort.
Seems these girls have two trophies they like to show off. He mused mentally, reaching into his jacket and yanking a fragmentation grenade from his belt. Letting the pin drop and the handle fly, he lobbed the orb between the two males. Taking advantage of the moment of panic, which the more intelligent females took note, he caught one of the girls in the stomach and shoulder with a spray of automatic fire. As she fell holding her wounds, the grenade took out one of the huge brutes and blew the arm off the other.
“Suppression fire!” a louder more commanding voice cried through the violence from far in the rear.
Glancing at the gate, Mal squinted and caught an eyeful of the apparent company leader. Gunners are nothing if not consistent. He thought, taking aim at the yellow haired girl as he flipped to semi automatic fire on the switch. Bringing up the iron sights, he zeroed in on the leader and let a round fly.
Much to Mals disappointment the bullet hit the guard from her side. It was not for lack of aim but her situational awareness which let her prepare for the shot, sacrificing one of her pawns as a result. “Over there!” he heard her bark, the dead bodyguard dropping in a limp fleshy mess.
The remaining company Dash hadn't picked off all trained their laser sights on the car frame Mal hid behind within seconds. The resulting firepower began to melt the frame from the sustained heat. Ducking hard, he knew he was in trouble as several plasma orbs hit his shoulder and burnt the leather of his trenchcoat.
“Son of a bitch!” he shouted and dropped a plasma grenade. Fumbling fingers grabbed it before several shots chased his hands from it. “Alright you overrated bitches. You like plasma? Let's go with plasma!” he shouted as they all began to reload. He turned to eyeball his target, an almost calculator like projected arc appeared in his vision. Several centuries of fighting gave him full confidence in his grenade tossing as he visualized his lob. The silver orb gave a metal thud as it hit and rolled on the concrete.
“Scatter!” the leader ordered, a second later the air was filled with a bright green explosive wave. Burning everything it touched, the grenades discharge did its job and took out the main tank, their last male and one more support girl.
He heard Dash open fire again only to run dry, her trademark “Shite!” almost made him chuckle had it not been a very dangerous situation for him. He may be relatively immortal but he knew he wasn't invulnerable. “Alright ya piss heads!” Dash shouted from her cover. “Let's see how ya like a lady up close…”
He heard the distinct sound of his companion injecting a chem into her arm. Probably Psycho, he thought, peering out to assess the battlefield.
He heard Dash let out a satisfied groan he seldom heard from her in battle, followed up with a growl of intense power surging through her body. Mal knew the tide had turned when she sprung up. Watching her adrenaline and chem induced rage take over, the few shots the soldiers next to her got off missed or didn't even phase her as they hit. Grabbing the first bewildered soldier, twisting her arm too quick for them to react, a distinct snap followed by a cry of pain sounded. Dash twisted the girls wrist again, breaking both bones at the pivot point and letting her crew finish her off as Dash used her as a human shield. Allowing the poor girl to drop, the chem powered merc shot forward at a frightening pace and knocked the shotgun out of the next girls hands easily, catching it in mid air and reversing its direction so it come to rest under the Gunners chin. Fear didn't have time to register on her face before Dash pulled both triggers and the barrels blew at the same time.
Mal leaned out a bit more and watched with amusement. “Useful to no end.” He lit his smoke, leaning back as several stray shots from the leader whizzed past, the last bullet hitting him in the shoulder. Spinning in place he cursed loud and his smoke went flying in a random direction.
Trying to regain his balance, Mal heard boots run up on his position. This one knows a thing or two. He thought, pulling a Bowie knife from a holster on his right boot. “Gotta take her down.” Sounds of metal on metal filled his ears as the Gunner Commander pulled a machete down to end his life, meeting his blade in turn.
“You're so fucking dead!” she finally shouted, driving forward with brute force and taunting him. “You're going to pay for making us lose those breeding stock!” she growled and slashed at his head, cutting several strands of his hair.
“I think I did them a favor.” Mal wasn’t one for the stoic lone wanderer personality. He knew exactly how to push buttons and revelled in it. Sending an elbow into her chin, he took advantage of her stunned moment, cutting her across the chest. “Seems they would have fought your piss poor genetics. You can’t even beat two mercs with a full company.” He laughed as she slashed up, trying to castrate him.
“You fucking insecure bastard!” she replied to him, growing more frustrated as he knife play met block after block. “Wait ‘til I get a collar on you. I'll turn you into a dildo with wings!” she cursed, trading the knife in her hand to come down as a powerful stab from above him. “Keep you in the basement and make you eat what I say, when I say it!”
“Sorry,” Mal was unpaved. The many battles he’d been in as well as life in the wasteland numbing his potential fear. “I've never been one for marriage!” he punctuated his statement as he sidestepped her stab, slicing her across the throat with a step forward. Smiling as she dropped her blade, he closed his eyes in satisfaction, the once smug leader now seconds from the end of her life at his own hands.
Turning as he heard the body drop, he picked up her machete and examined it. “Nice blade. Poor form.” He commented, kicking over the leader as she began to spasm, her body going into shock. He began searching her pockets, letting deaths grip take her as he looted her still warm body. “Hmmm...what is this?” he asked teasingly, the light leaving her eyes as she clutched her throat uselessly. Unfolding a piece of paper he began to read it. “Ah. I see. These orders make you being here make much more sense.” Mal stepped on her chest and looked into her vacant eyes. “I appreciate the help, Commander Kaylor.”
Dash snapped another neck as her savage nature began to leave her. The chem she’d shot into her had a very good buff to her physical strength, but the downside was it burned out fast. She felt a crash coming and charged the last frightened girl in front of her. Several shots from the Gunners pistol hit Dash in the armor plating harmlessly as she closed the distance. Stumbling by part of a crash from the chemical, the last shot rang out and hit Dash in the exposed stomach, her grunt crossed with a cry of pain catching her keepers ear.
Mal snapped out of his enjoyment and drew his iron sights up on the last survivor. He unloaded the rest of the magazine he had at her, taking her down when his shots blew out her knees, the last hitting her gun arm at the bicep. She dropped and groaned as she impacted the stained concrete.
Dash felt reality return to her as she sat crumpled over, clutching her stomach. Trying to move at all sent another cry of anguish into the air. She barely registered Mal kneeling next to her and the last Gunner crawling away slowly, pulling with one good arm as she was in worse shape than Dash.
“Fucking...bast…” was all she got out as Mal kicked her onto her back, snatching her pistol and tossing it far out of reach. She stared helplessly at him, fear and curiosity radiating from her gaze.
“Don't break other people's toys. It's impolite.” He said calmly, raising his pistol and firing a round into the girls own stomach. He smiled as she made a pathetic whimper, her effort to curl up in pain making it all worse with wounded limbs. Turning to Dash, he reached into his side satchel and knelt beside her, pulling her hands from her gut wound. “Let me see,” he said serenely, as if he were a concerned parent.
Mal gave a seldom seen expression of concern, not that Dash registered it. He opened his kit and pulled several vials from it, preparing a syringe. “Easy. Easy. ” He said evenly, eyeing up the needle and making sure air was clear of it. “The crash from the Psycho is making your nerves endings fire. Being shot makes it worse.” He sprayed a bit from the tip. “Being gut shot makes it twelve times as worse.”
“It...it fucking h..hurts so..bad..” she stammered and shivered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh fuck … it hurts!” she repeated.
No further words exchanged as he plunged the needle into her wound, a long sustained whimper coming from her, bending her forward in new pain. She curled into his grip as he injected a cocktail meant to heal and take the edge off. Staring forward as he listened to her breathing stabilize, he found himself subconsciously stroking her back, the glistening sweat transfering to his leather glove.
“You got her...right?” she stuttered, laying on him. “That bitch that shot me..?”
“Yeah.” He nodded, patting her head softly. “I got her.” Mal held on still, pulling the needle out and helping her stand. The wound was closing quickly thanks to the stimpak he had blended with the painkillers and addictol. He steadied her as they stood properly and moved towards the main gate, stepping slowly at first.
“I...I tried Mal.” she said, sweat pouring from her brow and mixing with dried tears. “I almost got them all.”
“Now, now.” He gave her the slightest of hugs, knowing most of his affection would not be remembered after she came fully to her senses. “Ya did good. I'm proud of ya.” He said flatly, not sure if he was lying or telling the truth himself. “And...I got you some nuka cola cherry!” he teased as they limped alone.
“I..I bloody hate cherry.” She gritted her teeth as her internal organs knitted back in place.
“Oh Dash...” he rubbed her neck softly. “Dont be ungrateful.” Mal snickered. “It turns me off.” He handed her the cola and she stared at it as they hobbled in faster, turning the corner and out of sight from the main road.
***
“Well that's just shitty.”
“Come again?” Sunset turned to her traveling companion. She noticed he had opened a panel on the cryo tube and was messing with the wires hanging from it. Her eyes focused and magnified his work. “Ah. I see.”
“Yeah. I can't unhook her without committing to a full defrost.” Knight rubbed his brow, staring into the dozens of colored wires in front of him. “Battery backup died a while ago from no upkeep.” Shutting the compartment on the mess of wires, he stood up, brushing the glass on Twilight’s tube.
“What a peculiar use of the word.” Sunset mentioned as she walked to join him. “Can anything mechanical truly ‘die’?” she tilted her head, her eyes refocusing on him.
There was a brief pause as they looked at each other, broken as he cleared his throat. “I mean it’s non functional. It's a figure of speech.” He hesitantly smiled as he turned back to the sleeping girl. “We better get Dr. Grumpy on the line.”
Sunset nodded, a small smile at the reference to their superior. The same person her appearance was modeled after was also waiting to hear back from them at The Institute. “Broadcast enabled. Dialing.” Sunset’s eyes dilated as she spoke. Widening as the communication array in her body connected, her eyes shifted color as a connection took. Changing to a deep red glow, her body language changed, going rigid and stiff.
“Dr. Shimmer?” Knight asked hesitantly, waving a hand in front of the red eyes.
“Operative.” a modulated voice came from Sunset, clearly no longer dominant in the synth. “These communications pull a great deal of power from both ends. Your synth will need to be recharged. I trust you have something important to report?” her frown reminded him of her shortness on pleasantries.
“Operative contact of pre war nature. Found cache of cryogenic tubes. One survivor. Appears intelligent.” Knight reported to her, motioning to the tube. “Please advise. Battery failure negates teleportation of subject or moving of entire machine.”
Sunset turned to view the tube, curiosity expressed by her body language as she approached. Stiff steps brought her nearly to the ground, only for her to catch herself on a table. “Fascinating. Remote control of this nature is foreign to me. You must forgive my--” Shimmers voice stopped as her vessel came to a cracked mirror. She tilted her head, craning back and forth as her body brought its hands to her face, running them through her hair.
Knight looked away for a moment as the realization hit him. She's looking into the past. If S-537 was built using her as a model. She's no spring chicken anymore. He thought. Must be strange to see her younger self.
“They did quite the job of perfecting this synths appearance. Remarkable. Just remarkable.” Shimmers voice sounded unsure for once, stuck between emotion and the scientist in her. “Now. Let's see. Yes, Twilight Sparkle.” She cleared her throat, examining the data on the terminal.
“What's the verdict, doc?” Knight slung his plasma rifle on his shoulder gruffly. “Still haven't begun to assess this vault and I could use Sunset back.”
“The unit is called S-537, operative.” She turned sharply. “It's better to think of it as a tool rather than a person. It's easier that way.”
“I'll just call her Sunset, no offense.” Knight responded, folding his arms with a slightly impatient tone.
“In response to your juvenile question, I authorize you to begin wake up procedures on this one. We may have a use for her, if she’s specialized in fertility or any other field we need. No doubt she'll be useful to tell you more about this vault.” Shimmer's tone grew colder. “Make sure this unit begins the process. It's beyond your understanding so the machine will have to attend to the machine.” Shimmer finished and her eyes flickered. “Contact us when you assess the vault. That is all.” Her voice filtered out into static as her eyes reverted to S-537’s blue tint.
Sunset blinked a few times as her systems returned to normal, staring at Knight silently. “Was the uplink successful?”
“You don’t remember?” Knight raised his eyebrow.
“No. My central processing units divert all resources to ensure a smooth transmission. I essentially black out, for lack of a better term.” She shook her head softly.
“Well Shimmer said Hi.”
“I seriously doubt that.” Sunset smiled.
“You got me there,” he shrugged helplessly. “But she does want us to wake our friend up.” He walked to the case and brushed more frost off, looking in again. “Boy is she in for a rude awakening.”
“You would know best of the two of us.” Sunset remarked, pulling a dusty chair from the terminal desk and sitting down at the keyboard. Knight heard her as she typed away feverishly without a second thought. “It appears most of this will be automated. But it will take some time.” She said to him, not turning from the screen. “I'll set it up and we can finish checking the vault to see if it meets parameters.”
“Sounds good.” Knight pulled his rifle to a ready stance. “How long do you think it'll take for her to thaw?”
“At least 2 or three hours.” Sunset turned back to him, standing as she pressed the enter key. “All set.”
“Good work. Let's head in further and see what's what.”
“Such strange terminology.” Sunset remarked, walking behind her partner and looking back for a moment at Twilight. “Let's hope she went to sleep pleasantly. She'll be snapping right out of the moment when she revives. Whatever the moment was...” she said, the door sealing behind them as the faintest sound of hissing mixed with ice breaking filled the room.
“Witness” By DarkMalcontent Proofs by Alisia Input by The Pony Think Tank (Alden and Kyle)
*** Vault 88, 2287 09:52
Knight thanked his fortune as he landed on his artificial arm. The fall from the ledge he was on wasn’t deadly but it still would have hurt more on flesh. Looking at the lattice railing he was laying on, he stood and checked himself over. Shoulder light flickering still, he didn’t note any real blood that was his on him, and he gave his arm a quick rotation to confirm it was fine. The darkness around him was cut by his light, which was peppered with age old dust he had kicked up on his fall down.
“Knight!” Sunset's voice echoed towards him from above. “Are you alright?”
He smiled. It had been centuries since someone cared enough about him to feel the need to ask. The last person to really care for him that way was his late wife, Cherry Drop. He frowned for a moment just as quickly as he had smiled. “Or was it Trixie?” Knight opened one eye wider in amazement as he tried to remember his own wife's name. He heard her call again and turned up to answer. “I'm fine! Found some stairs, it’s sturdy enough. Seems like an expansion project for this vault.” He turned to stare down at the dimly lit stairs, which were haphazardly bolted to the rock face he was on. As old as they looked, they were anchored in firmly. Barely able to make out a door in the distance, he coughed as dust caught his lungs.
“I'm coming down.” Sunset shouted and half a moment later she landed with a great thud as her boots left an imprint from the dead drop she made. He was startled at how quickly she made it down. Had it not been for her more sturdy materials as a synth, she would have been crippled or dead. Sunset paid no mind to that while she dusted her leather jacket off. “You were right about ditching the lab coat up there. These traveling leathers are much more durable while we explore.” She smiled at him, scanning beyond the void of darkness.
“Anything useful?” he asked as he strained to see with normal eyes. Slowly taking the handrail, he descended the stairs towards the lower floor, ducking under the occasional low bridge of catwalks.
“Looks still intact for the most part. You'd be more able to attest to that.” She answered, the center of her eyes spinning clockwise. “Looks critter free too so far.”
“Let's hope so. I didn't like running into that pack of feral ghouls in the main atrium.” He remarked, reminded of their last encounter about an hour ago.
“No certainty.” Sunset's blue synth eyes shifted and cast a faint glow towards him. “But I doubt anything else in here can put up much of a fight.” She smiled as the continued on.
As they reached the bottom, the rocky cavern floor changed to a more machined gravel pattern. Further in, the clear evidence of a man made cave and floor became apparent, the classic architecture of Vault Tec prefab walls and rooms coming into view. The main door to the large cube of a room before them sat closed, the panel on the door reading it was on standby.
“Looks like it's been sealed for quite a while.” Knight tapped on the panel, the toggle stuck from ages of dust. Forcing the switch, it gave a groan of metal on metal, followed by the doors parting and the seal breaking. Opening to him is a corridor that was in decent condition, the floors littered with papers and dust but no real damage. Automated lighting clicked loudly and illuminated the entire small hallway. At the other end sat another door of identical build, and identical controls. Lining the hallway walls were small nozzles that caught his eye, as did they his companion as they both stopped to examine them. “Looks like decontamination.” He tapped the nearest nozzle. “Never used yet though, factory plug is still in this one.” He tapped the metal tubes that connected them all, a hollow echo traveling down each. “And no water. This was unfinished.”
“What purpose would an already safe vault underground need for a decontamination center further into itself?” Sunset asked, her eyes adjusting counterclockwise to the new lights.
“An excellent question.” He smiled back at her, starting to walk to the other door at the end of the hall. Arriving, he grabbed hold of the switch and turned it as he had the last. “Let's find out. Be ready, for all we know there's a deathclaw in here. Or an ancient ghoul who was building the room when the bombs fell.”
Sunset nodded as she readied her small laser pistol, a look of determination taking over as the door groaned like the other and the seal broke. Hydraulics hissed and the dark room it revealed gave no apparent threat.
Toggling his shoulder light, Knight raised his rifle sights and began a careful assessment, ready to pop any critter or ghoul should their entry have awakened them. Scanning his sights slowly left, the room lit up with his light as he tracked along. Stopping at a fuse box, he lowered his rifle and crept through the room, the absence of furniture sticking out in his mind. Looking at the fusebox he saw no apparent damage to the metal case, opening its rusty hinges revealed the whole story however. “Mmm..simple enough.” He said to himself, opening a pouch on his belt and withdrawing a screwdriver, he popped a few broken fuses out after killing the feed to each. “Too much juice at once.”
“Seems like a strange oversight.” Sunset scanned the room with her limited night vision, the soothing blue glow from her iris vanishing as she turned her head away. “Would not the architects have considered the proper powerload?”
Knight focused on his work, at home with repairing things instead of shooting for once. He began to replace each tiny glass canister in the box. “You would think, but this doesn't look like conventional planning. This might have been a rush job as well.” He tightened the fittings on the wires, giving each a firm seat before flipping the main toggle. “There we go.”
The rumbling of the power surging in followed by the doors sealing gave them both a start, their weapons ready again and checking for threats. Before they could speak another series of automation triggered the lights and lit up the room they were in. Both gave an audible gasp as their eyes focused.
A sterile square room lined with empty bookshelves and centuries of dust and debris welcomed their eyes. Crates of unopened items and storage bins sat in the center, along with a small desk with a computer terminal that was now booting up In the far corner.
The crates and storage boxes held the source of their surprise: a small frame of a feral ghoul, laying on the crates with a box of Little Gem Snack cakes in hand.
*** [Intro “Virtual Insanity”] [Title card] **
Vault 88, October 23rd, 2077 08:00
Twilight stretched a morning yawn out as she stopped to gather her thoughts. Glancing around at the rubble and metal catwalks of the entire entry to the vault, she noticed a rather fresh sign hanging above her that read ‘Screening and Intake’. Leaning back to peer at it, she noticed it was missing a screw or two, put up in haste no doubt. Around her the distant sound of machinery and power tools filled her ears.
“Boy, this sure is homey.” A voice said behind her. Glancing back she saw a boy a bit younger than her, his purple hue matching hers almost, but his green hair making for a far bigger contrast than her pinkish highlights. Dressed in black slacks and a matching black vest over a white dress shirt, he looked much more alert then she did that early. “So this is where we get to stay huh?”
“Hopefully, Spike.” Twilight put a hand to her mouth to cover a yawn, turning back to her young ward. “If Vault Tec wants me as bad as I’ve been told, no doubt I’ll be able to make a small request. Namely my little brother..” she smirked and ruffled his hair. “Let's go see if we can find Overseer Glimmer. I haven’t met her yet in person.”
“Twilight Sparkle?” A voice caught her by surprise, her head cocking and turning to the left. Behind her stood several shadowy figures, two holding briefcases, and all of them much taller than her.
“Yes?” She cracked out, bumping into Spike as she subconsciously took a step back.
“Vault Tec, Ms. Sparkle.” One of the women stepped closer and handed her a name tag on a lanyard “You'll need this to go any further.”
She took the badge and clumsily place it around her neck. Looking over her picture she cringed at her frozen smile and awkward expression. “Not the best picture I've ever had taken of me”
“Not a problem. You won’t need it unless you access any of the terminals, which we haven't had installed properly yet. Hence all the automated turrets.” Her mysterious guide told her.
Twilight gulped as she realized how many bubble turrets were above her, scanning back and forth silently. One seemed to almost stop and look at her, only to move on. “Security is never a bad thing I suppose.”
“It's vital. Now if you head down to the security check in down to the right, your companion can sit there while we get you acclimated.” She stood back up and turned to the left. “If you'll excuse me.” She said, departing with her two associates without another word.
Twilight stared at them as they left, bumping Spike in the head with her elbow as she turned. “Oops. Sorry, Spike.” She apologized, rubbing the top of his head.
“That was spooky.” Spike commented, rubbing his head. “You sure you want to trust these people? They say they may have another reason to do all these vaults.”
“Spike,” she gave a small sigh. She was used to his overprotective nature by now. It had grown over time as they had, from the moment he was adopted by her parents. The best she could figure was he felt he owed her and her family his life, so she forgave his overly zealous nature. “I'm sure there's a reason for all of this, and it's very simple, and hardly sinister.” She smirked. “Sometimes you just have to have faith in others, you can't always go at it alone.”
“I guess.” Spike said, staring down a moment.
“Now come on, let's see if there's some snack cakes at the security station.” She nudged him. “Little Gems Snack Cakes if your lucky!” She smiled as she saw his eyes light up. The two of them moving at a greater pace now to their destination.
***
Vault 88, 2287 09:55
Knight approached carefully, his sights set on the ghoul. Their habit of popping back up from a century old nap sticking in the back of his mind. Motioning behind him, he signaled for Sunset to hold her position, the floor padding muffling his boots. Holding out his pipboy, a quick attempt to scan the ghoul as a target came back as a negative, meaning it had no life signs. He slung his rifle at the same time turning back to Sunset. "It’s ok. Dead I think."
Sunset wandered closer, her eye irises twisting as she focused on the body. "Let's hope so. Usually dead comes in different stages for them." The blue of her eyes brightened as she focused on the item in its hand. "Strange. It died with regular food in its hand." She tilted her eyes down. "And a later pistol presumably in the other." She motioned to the dust cover weapon below the skeletons hand.
"Not too strange. I found several holding teddy bears and rattles. I think they pick up what's familiar or comforting to them as their brains suffer more damage from time." Knight commented, the sounds of the terminal behind them booting up. "But I bet this fellow’s story might be clearer if we read this."
"Why?" Sunset tilted her head to her companion.
"I dunno." He tapped in a few key commands. "Call it a hunch." The grey toned human leaned on the desk, his eyes darting back and forth as he began browsing entries. "And I'm right. Seems these were written by a 'Spike'. The dates seem to put them right at the time of the war."
"Anything of value?" Sunset inquired, kneeling next to him at a set of cargo boxes. She began working on finding the latches to open them.
Spike jumped out of his chair, the klaxon and sirens frightening him to the point of near fainting. He ran immediately over to Twilight, the comfort he sought absent as he saw fear in her eyes.
"Twilight, we have to get out of here!" Spike pleaded, tugging his adoptive sisters skirt. "They did it! They launched!"
Twilight shook her head slowly, listening to the system speakers continue, the plain white speaker box above her head droning its announcement.
"Oh my god." Twilight stammered and started to instinctively run towards the exit, only to halt. "No, Spike. We can't leave."
Several security personnel in vault jumpsuits began scurrying past them, each shouting commands as their training kicked in.
"What?!" Spike asked, panic climbing from his throat in its tone. "Twilight! Nuclear. Bombs. Are dropping!"
Twilight winced as he shouted. "That's what this place is built for, Spike." She knelt down to look him in the eye, a tone of sadness hinted in her words. "We were chosen to be here on purpose."
"The door isn't responding!" A security guard shouted from the distance. "Get me the manual decoupler!"
Twilight stared at Spike, stroking his hair protectively. "It’s the only reason I wanted you with me." She continued, standing up and taking him by the hand. "In case this happened, I want to make sure you're safe, little brother." She smiled slightly down at him.
"Outer door is sealed!" Another shout sounded closer to them, footsteps and sirens growing in intensity. "Maam we need to get you down into the vault proper!"
"Calm down and help me get the coupler ignited on the main inner door." A man slapped another, bringing him to a more stable state of mind. "That's where the radiation shielding is!"
The flurry of sounds and orders, crying and arguing, filled the hallways. Twilight looked around calmly, noticing the gathering of security down.
"Impact expected in minutes!" A radio speaker blared, the man on the other end clearly panicked."Let us in, dammit!"
"You know we cant, the system won’t let us! It's all automated!"
Twilight glanced around and noticed a storeroom that was deeper into the rock, taking Spike with her. The sirens became deafening as a low, constant, almost foreboding rumble filled her ears.
"Oh God, help us! There! I see something in the distance!" The man screamed suddenly, Twilight covering Spikes head and ears as they huddled down under a support strut.
"I cant see! My eyes are on fire! Oh God help us help us let us in!" The crackling radio link to watch tower outside rattled on. "What's that sound.."
The sudden silence told Twilight that the impact was far enough the EMP did not destroy everything immediately. The man had obviously looked right at the detonation. The science of it didn't help make it any easier to listen to as a life was snuffed out, or the countless others she knew were suffering the same fate.
Anyone not vaporized would be suffering only a few minutes before the blast wave hit. She knew from her studies the people up top were so irradiated they were already dead.
"They're bodies just haven't caught up with the reality of it." She thought, closing her eyes and huddling with Spike, the rumble getting louder and the shaking increasing, several cans of supplies tumbling to the floor near them. Spike’s startled cry only made her clutch him tighter, if not to shield him from physical harm, to shield him from the terrifying reality:
The world they knew was now gone.
*** Vault 88, 2287 10:09
"Looks like this Spike was here for a while. Plenty of entries." Knight tapped to the next entry, the text flying across the screen as the journal entry loaded. His eyes narrowed again as he scanned the words.
"Your eyes always go like that when you read fine text. Have you considered you may need glasses?" Sunset inquired, turning back to unlock the first container she knelt at. The dials on the outside gave her no release, only a blaring buzz. "Huh. Locked." She gave a puzzled look. "Shouldn't be too hard. Eight digit readout."
"I don't need them." Knight answered finally, turning his head to stare down at her. "Glasses I mean." He focused onto the screen. "Besides, we’re not exactly near an optometrist." He grunted, rubbing an eye with his real hand. "I'd look awful in them."
"Oh I don't know, Knight." She turned back to the keypad, attempting to override or bypass it. "I think you could make anything look good." She grunted as the keypad buzzed at her. "Or even nothing at all."
The last off hand comment caught Knight off guard, eyebrow cocked as he stopped reading. The awkward silence broke when the keypad growled at her again, letting her notice him now. "What?"
"Did you just make a pass at me?" His tone was genuinely curious and hinted with amazement.
"I believe I did." She turned back to her work.
"Is that even possible?" Knight inquired, completely taken out of the entry he was reading.
"I don't see why not. I am," she tilted her head back towards him as her hands kept pecking at the keypad. "Fully functional in all ways."
"No that's not what I mean-" Knight began, used to explain his statements, only to be brought to a stop as her own words gave him pause."--wait really?" He shook his head quickly, a means of shaking himself back on task. "Nevermind let's just keep going."
Sunset smirked, her synthetic eyes narrowed a bit as she sped up her work, new sequences typed in as she began a brute force method of data entry.
Knight took a few seconds longer to shake the blood flow back to his brain and returned to the journal entries.
*** Vault 88, October 23rd, 2077 21:06
"Overseer Glimmer was down in the lower levels when it all started. We have no way to determine who is or isn't alive down there."
Twilight listened as the staff that did make it in discussed the state of things. Spike had drifted off to sleep, laying in a pile of blankets the security staff had broken out of storage, so she sat quietly and listened. She had brief introductions to the small staff that had made it in: Celestia was a teacher of ethics and her younger sister Luna specialized in criminal justice. The two stood with the acting security chief, Flash, she hadn't caught his last name.
"The problem is the construction crew fell behind when they hit granite deposits and uranium veins." Flash rubbed the back of his neck, the heat clearly getting to him. "The new digging plan was scheduled to come in tomorrow."
"Then there is no way to reach the Overseer or any of the crew, should they be alive?" Luna asked, a hint of sternness in her voice.
"It would seem not." Celestia said to her sister. "We need to think about the essentials then. Water. Food. Waste removal or storage." She added, turning an eye to Twilight. "Not to mention the main reason any of us are here."
"Surely you can't presume to just start the curriculum?" Luna's hips cocked to the side and a hand rested on one. "Sister, there are barely any of us here. We should concern ourselves first with making sure we are entirely safe."
"I wish Cadance had made it in. She was on her honeymoon. I hope she found shelter." Celestia suddenly realized. "She would know what to worry about in this moment."
"She would tell you the same things I will now." Luna stepped in the path of Celestia's gaze. "We must fortify and assess danger. That means: entry points secure, radiation detection in place and a complete list of our resources. I doubt all of them made it in."
"Luna is correct, ma'am." Flash added. "The top side deliveries were just getting into regular routine when this happened. I'm not entirely sure of our food levels." He turned to face the blue toned teacher. "Miss Luna, Miss Celestia, I'll begin assignments for a patrol of what we know is safe."
Twilight glanced up as the conversation began to die down, catching Celestia's eye. Wringing her hands and wiping them gently on her blouse, Twilight rubbed sweat from her brow, the heat getting noticeable.
"I'll see to our student. Luna, you begin assessing our food supplies." Celestia paused, taking an audible swallow. "As well as taking a count of anyone we lost during the collapse in the central hallway."
Luna ran a hand across her sister’s back in brief comfort before turning to begin her unpleasant duties.
Twilight cleared her throat and stood up, noticing Celestia beckoning her to follow. Taking her further away from the others, she began to take in the sights and smells of the side atrium they entered. The steel and rubber texture adorned the floor and walls, each section of it all uniform and designed to give a sterile and secure look. Barely enough headroom for a tall person, the entire roof of the main atrium lifted high to another story above them, granting some relief from the catastrophic rooms they were in.
"Now that we have some privacy." Celestia said, coming up from behind and placing a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry we had to meet under these circumstances. I'm--"
"Celestia." Twilight finished her sentence. "Professor of Ethics and Morals at Vault Tech University." She nodded, turning to meet her teacher’s gaze. "I'm familiar with some of your work."
"I'm flattered, Miss Sparkle." Celestia smiled wide as she heard her. "I only know of you from the project portfolio, but they included pictures. I admit I was a bit amazed at the grades they gave." She stood next to her and took a step towards the balcony railing, looking down at artificial foliage.
"It's good to meet you." Twilight gave a sigh relief. "I was worried none of my teachers would like me."
"Oh?" Celestia leaned back on the railing, looking as her only student joined her to relax. "Why might that have been?"
"A Lot of my teachers back in high school didn't like me because I'd know the answer before them." Twilight answered, looking down in shame. "That's why I have been a bit of a recluse ..and why this vault assignment seemed like a God send."
"Based on what I've read about your grades, papers and academic achievements, I can see why some teachers would be intimidated by you." Celestia said, with an almost parental tone to her words. "But I think you should know I won’t be one of them…" she eased her tone, a hand going to her student’s lavender hair. "...in fact, I know I've been looking forward to having you ... as a student."
"Sister!" Luna broke the moment, much to Twilight’s relief, the sound of the other teacher making their way across the metal plating of the catwalk.
Celestia gave an angry look to her younger sister, the expression vanishing quickly as Twilight turned. "Yes, Luna?"
"I took a count of the dead and our supplies. The two problems are serious but not impossible to overcome." Luna stopped short of them, flipping pages on a clipboard. "There are twenty dead we can account for. Mainly the men we sent to shore up the ceiling before it collapsed." She flipped the papers. "I'm having the few strong guards we have begin pulling the bodies they can find out and putting them in the freezer units in food storage."
"Surely you don’t expect to bury--" Cellestia began to ask.
"Our food levels are a different story. By rationing what we have everyone we have accounted for," Luna scribbled with a pencil on the same paperwork. "Using the protein supplements and freeze dried meat we have: Approximately 7 weeks."
"Seven weeks?!" Celestia said, taking her sister by the arm to move from Twilight. "You know as well as I do radiation won’t go away in 2 years, let alone 2 months." She gritted her teeth, turning to cross her arms in frustration.
"The problem is lack of ingredients, sister." Luna lowered her tone slightly. "Most of the instant meals require protein or prepackaged meat to be of any nutritional value." She stuck the pencil behind her ear.
An awkward pause filled the three room occupant’s ears.
"We're doomed." Celestia felt tears well up in her eyes, failing to notice Twilight peeking around the corner.
"No." Luna was quick to respond, before another unsettling pause hit the air. "But we are going to have to make a difficult decision."
*** Vault 88, 2287 10:10
Knight quirked his eyebrow again as he read the entries. He paused and stood, stretching his back and arms. Glancing at his companion he watched her nimble fingers move across the keypad.
"Anything useful? A code perhaps?" Sunset asked.
"Nothing quite so helpful." He slung his rifle and stepped closer to the skeleton, looking it over. "Hard to tell what killed this one." He turned around and scanned the room walls, eying up anything out of place. "No apparent weapon fire."
"It would appear that point would not be useful, save our own curiosity." She answered.
Knight nodded as he walked to the end of the room, looking around at the prefabricated walls and hydraulic lines. He followed the drooping sets as they curved and came to a halt behind a large set of fridges. At the same moment he stopped in front of them, his pipboy began ticking away with radiation alerts. Instinctively he stepped back and looked around for apparent sources, happy to hear the alerts go away.
"Supplies are open. Nothing but powder packs. No ingredients." Sunset startled him. "Oh what's this?"
"Not sure. Seems unhealthy to me. It's made out of lead though, so anything inside might still be useful to us. Provided the back up power kept it going."
"Then let me have a look at it." She took him by the arm. "And you keep at this. No sense in your hair falling out if theres nothing but a can of 200 year old pickles in here." She smirked, eyes focusing again. "Though I doubt anyone would go to the trouble of putting a keypad like this on an ordinary fridge." She tapped the readout on the side. "Same design. It may take a few minutes."
Frowning for a moment, he returned to the terminal as his companion worked on opening the supply box lock.
*** Vault 88, November 30th, 2077 12:56
"Look, it's that or we starve."
"We have more food since we put the girls on ice."
"Too bad we only had three pods."
"Better them then us. I'm not about to freeze my ass and hope someone wakes me up. I could be in there for 200 years or more."
Spike listened as the women exchanged words, safely perched above them in the shadows. The catwalks above them were shut down and never patrolled due to being unfinished. He had found they made excellent eavesdropping perches, vital in the months after the war.
"This room was full of supplies and now look at it. Empty." Another female guard exclaimed, throwing her arms about in disbelief. "Now we are down to. Nothing but protein packs with no protein."
"That's why we gotta eat the kid." The one furthest away said.
"You said that a little too casually." The third remarked.
Spike sprang up after hearing his fate discussed, a wash of anxiety hitting him. Stepping back as quietly from the edge as he could, he gave a silent gasp when he saw the last package of donuts had slipping from his jumpsuit pocket. Terror swept over him as seconds turned to hours, the object in free fall. Landing softly, the packaging let a crinkle of the paper wrapping sound as it came to rest on the last of the supply crates.
All three looked up, flashlights fluttering about in search of the source. Spike froze as two of the beams hit him and they began to shout at him. Turning and starting a stride, he stumbled over his own foot, leverage shifting him backwards. A Yelp was all he was able to muster before he hit the metal supply boxes hard. He swore he heard a crack in his back and rib, but the pain he felt soon after assured him of it.
"Oh great. Ya broke him!"
"I didn't do shit. You're the one who yelled!"
"Shut up both of you."
The pain overtook his mind, fragments of the conversation blurred in and out as he tried to gasp for air. In his desperation he grabbed at nearby items, finding purchase on the package of donuts he clutched it with a death grip.
"He's alive!"
"Dont bet on it that's the body catching up to his brain. That was a spinal snap."
"You ain't no doctor."
"I am a field medic and I've seen enough backs broken to know that soun--"
Spike broke their concentration as his hand found another item, this one metallic and sturdy. It felt familiar in the vaguest of terms, the distinct whine coming from it confirmed: a laser pistol.
"Look out he's got Gabbys laser!
*** Vault 88, 2287 12:58
Sunset smiled as the keypad sounded, the door to the oversized fridge opening slowly. The dust and cobwebs around the door pushed away and a light inside came on.
Sunset widened her eyes as she called out to her companion. "Knight. Come take a look at this."
Knight was equally busy with reading when she summoned him. Standing up, he focused on the interior and his expression mimicked her own.
"You've got to be shitting me." Was all he got out.
***
Vault 88, November 13th, 2077 13:00
Spike focused on the voices shouting around him, hardly a man let alone a solider, he began squeezing the trigger wildly.
Two shrieks filled the room and were cut off suddenly, the world tilted and he cried out as another impact hit him, a blunt kick from the third girl sent him flying across the room.
"You little bastard I'll make you pay for that."
Spike felt hands around his throat, picking up his small frame and sending ripples of pain through him as the final girl tried to end him. "Then I'll eat you front of your sister! This whole situation wouldn't be fucking happening if it wasnt for--"
Spike fired a final desperate round that made her vicious tone change to scolding pain, her grip loosening on him.
His vision dimmed as he felt her grab the laser from him and curse him a few more times. The next thing he saw was a brilliant light above him, then darkness accompanied by a loud metal locking sound. Punctuated by a electronic beep, Spike had lost too much blood from his internal injuries to care about the cold biting at him now. He decided close his eyes entirely now, letting the sounds of the world muffle softer and softer.
*** Vault 88, November 13th, 2077 13:02
"Fucking. Little shit." Gabby held her side, checking the burn wound the laser made. The feeling of dread came over her as she realized the wide shot had pierced several organs, and per war time laser settings, was slowly burning her from the inside out.
Stumbling to get the the first aid kit in the front security check point, she made it barely to the center of the room before she fell. Landing on the same items Spike had, he turned onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. Her heartbeat began to slow in herr ears, the lights themselves fluctuating. "Shock." She muttered with a defeated smile. The feeling below her legs went, her grip on the laser pistol going slack. The clattering on the floor brought no one to help her. She knew she was the last now.
"No sense in...wasting...breath." she panted, laying her head to the side, her eyes focused on what had started it all.
A package of pre war donuts.
She laughed as much as she could before it hurt, reaching out to grab hold of them she clutched it close.
She gave the package a final squeeze as the lights dimmed around her. Darkness followed by silence.
Followed by nothing at all.
*** Vault 88, 2287 13:00
Staring at the contents of the fridge, they both rubbed their heads in astonishment.
"I'll admit. That I didn't see coming." Knight said.
Sunset knelt down to examine the small human Male, covered in frost, he slowly raised his chest up and down as air moved in and out.
Brushing a few strains of what hair he had left, some skin flaked away at his scalp. She checked his pulse.
"It gets better." Sunset stated flatly and turned her head back to Knight. "He's alive."
[Hard cut to black] [Credits over instrumental "Virtual Insanity"] *** End of episode
"Benefits of Doubting" By DarkMalcontent Proofs by
Mal dropped behind an overturned bumper car, weapon fire chasing him and his companion. Peering over the top, the lone survivor of Vault 76 cut through the darkness with his mutant eyesight. Blessed or cursed, the mutation from countless curings and exposure to nuclear fallout in Appalachia had given him certain edges, one of which helped him realize the deck was stacked against him more then usual.
It all began when he took on an Institute mission to investigate a pack of so called "smart" raiders: ones that weren't all about fighting, fornicating and foaming at the mouth. They were supposed to be held up in a run down amusement park from before the war: Nuka-World.
Turns out the intel was good, the tram he and Dash took led them straight to a trap laid by these new improved raiders. They dropped straight into a lethal maze of radiation, death traps and gunfire. The many bodies they had stumbled over in the maze told him more than a few had thought to try their hand at it. As they had reached the end of the maze, it spit out into a bumper car arena, surrounded by raiders as if it were a baseball stadium.
In the center was a so called 'Overboss', who was waiting for some sort of final fight. The fewer bodies he found in the room before him gave him and his companion a clear insight that this wasn't a common stage to reach. Once the fight began, he found out why no one seemed to live to talk about it.
"This fucker ain't playing fair!" Dash ducked from another salvo of gunfire, several shots clipping her hair. "That rigged up power armor blocks any shot."
"Yeah, well, they don't call raiders fair, usually." Mal barked back at her, ducking down as well. Calculating his options as he reloaded his machine pistol, the whine of the magnetic in it hit his ears. "But our friend seems to know that." He reached into his trench, pulling out a super long water gun. "Here. Ditch your piece and use this."
Dash stared at him. "What are you, daft?!"
"Dash, you're a great screw; but brains aren't your thing. Just trust me. I get what the guy means! Now when I draw his fire, open up on him from behind and be sure you hit the pole on his back." He tapped his head with a fingers. "Fight smarter, not harder. Electricity is what powers his ass."
A loud whine from the power armor sounded before a huge explosion uprooted the car they hid behind. The rail gun the raider had blew apart their cover, splitting them up, forcing them to find new places to hide.
"You two aren't even worth a cold opening, let alone a main event!" The male voice from the armor taunted them.
"Now!" Mal shouted, the crowds cheering loudly as they both leapt to the open and surprised the raider boss. Mal let loose the entire clip from his rifle, 5mm casings clattering on the ground under him, arcing electricity crackling as the power armor got closer.
"Must be suicidal!" The overboss laughed through his speakers. A high pitched squeal overpowered the rifle sound as his rail gun powered up.
"Oy! Dickless!" Dash shouted, rapidly squeezing the water pistol in her hand. The sheer pressure in it surprised her as it blew her backwards. The chem addict hit the car behind her, her head bouncing as she lost grip on the gun.
Mal squinted a moment in desperation, but smiled as the power armor came to a squealing halt. The water had done what he had figured, shorting the connection the savage’s shield needed to protect its wearer. The shocked occupant growled in frustration, dead in the water as it were.
"What the hell?" was all he could muster.
"Brave guy until we take your toys." Mal shouted, running at the sitting duck of a leader. At the same moment he tossed his rifle aside, the other hand reaching into his trench and pulling out a pulse mine. Arming the switch on top, Mal jumped onto the back of the armor, the sound of a generator recycling hitting his ears telling him time was no longer on his side. Slamming the mine to the back hatch, he powered past the front with another push from his legs, coat tails fluttering as he cleared the massive unit.
The explosion shorted out the hatch controls, the back popping open and exposing the pilot. Thanking the few engineering classes he took on power armor in Vault 76, he didn't have time to gloat as he landed chest first on a set of bumper cars, knocking the air out of him.
The crowd cheered loud again as Mal heard the source of their yelps: the leader had escaped the downed armor and was running at his location. Fighting his body's need for air, the sight of the raider leader growing larger faster than he liked and he felt a series of sledgehammer hits nail his right side.
Growling as bones bruised, Mal snapped back to full attention, charging to break the distance and disrupt the arc the hammer had to swing through to hit him. Knocking the frail looking leader to the ground, Mal landed a back hand that stunned his opponent, giving him time to stand and draw his pistol. As the sights aimed down at him, the standby to live sound from the pistol was all the arena could hear, the two locked in a staring contest at each other.
"Wait! Let's talk about this. You want this place, you can have it!" The raider begged, hands up high. "Just let me go."
A loud clunk filled the air as electricity charged the suit of power armor again, the reset cycle complete. The raider knocked Mal’s hand aside and ran to the suit, halting an inch from it as his opponent grabbed him by the straps on his harness.
"Tell ya what." Mal said, leaning over the back of the man. "I'll let ya go, and even let ya have your suit!" He grinned as he pulled back the helpless raider, only to throw him into the electrical field on the front of the suit.
The arena lit up with electrical discharge and filled with cheers of approval as the raiders watching got the show they had hoped for. Flailing arms and legs soon stopped as the raider died an agonizing death from the weapon he had so cherished. The room went dark as the power died again, leaving Mal's shoulder lamp on. It wobbled as he did as he moved towards Dash, who was groaning and trying to swear about booze of some sort.
The lights cycled on and revealed a set of raiders, armed to the teeth in improvised armor and weaponry all around him. He sighed softly as he stood up, checked his ammo count on his pistol and cocking it to life. Turning to the bunch, he held out a contempt-filled pose to them all.
"All right." He sighed, resigned to apparent defeat, or assured victory, it was hard to tell even for him. "Who’s next?"
[Snap to black, play intro]
***
Appalachian Commonwealth, 2075
Mal handed the voucher to the quartermaster, followed by the side arm he was upgrading. Worn gunmetal and an extra power cell clattered in front of the machine. As the ticket scanned, he scoffed at the error code it signaled with a buzzer. He straightened the paper out and made sure no corners were crinkled, pushing it back to the validator slit.
"Processing." The protectron behind the gate was a sad substitute for the girl in that tight uniform they first had. Another victim of automation, she had been replaced by the tin can in front of him. "Urban Pacification Specialist Mal. Upgrade side arm." The monotone speech box made him wince. "Upgrade from Hammer Mark 1 to Mark 2. Note: Voice recognition software is in alpha stages. Changing ammo manually is still advised. Do you accept?"
"UPS #1735 confirms and accepts." He responded gruffly, hearing another officer get in line behind him. He pulled his glove off and placed his hand on the scanner.
"Confirmation complete. Power cell replacement is due in 400 years." The robot sprouted off. "Have a good day."
"Wow. That's way better than the mark 1." He heard behind him, a distinctly female voice. "You'll be dead and buried by the time that thing reaches a half life!" She finished, cheerfully nodding.
"Yeah well, I don't know about you, ma’am, but I'm planning on living forever." He chuckled, locking the slide and bolstering the sidearm to his belt.
"You boys in U.P. get all the nice stuff." She pouted, flashing her big blue eyes to him, she narrowed them ever so slightly. "Even food and gas rations I hear."
"Well we do get out in the front line a lot." Mal answered, looking back at her now, taking note of her tone. "We are well fed. Sometimes I have too much." He egged on the conversation.
It was a fairly common practise with shortages from the war to look for suppliers of all items. From metal, medication, clean water or food, the market was rationed. Government and military got the cream of the crop, mainly due to their feeling of entitlement. The items then trickled down to civil servants and then maybe civilians. He was no stranger to people casting a fishing line towards him.
"Oh really? You know that's funny." She pushed her chest out enough to expose her sports bra and cleavage. "I was just thinking I have an overabundance of companionship." She looked around as much as he did, then leaned in closer. "Maybe your in the market for that as much as I am for food?"
Mal flipped the top of his helmet visor up, smiling at her. "Capitalism is what we're fighting for overseas. It would be our duty to uphold the ideals behind it, wouldn't it, miss…?” He paused.
"Flare." She smiled, setting her metaphorical hook. "Stella Flare."
"Hmm. Well Stella. You’re in luck. I think we can help each other out."
"ALL UPS REPORT TO COMMAND. FOOD RIOT IN PROGRESS AT THE CORNER OF ABBOTT AND COSTELLO." A loudspeaker near their head startled them both, several officers running past them.
"Never fails." Mal adjusted his chest straps and glanced back at her. "21:00. 44th and Charlie. Apartment 2D." He barked at her, noticing her smile, he returned it. He did jump as she suddenly grabbed his backside and held on a bit too long, giving his front a firm grip too.
"You'll see more of me then,” was all she said as she let go.
Flipping his visor down he chuckled. "For what you’re offering, I expect to see ALL of you." He turned before she could answer, breaking into a trot as he joined a pack of identically dressed specialists.
"Alright, listen up." The shift leader began, barking loud enough to overtake the sirens around them. "We got a food riot in progress. Get in. Pacify. Low number of casualties." A gloved finger pointed across the squad. "Coverage of us is starting to look for any, and identical mean any, reason to come after us." He continued.
"Screw this filth. We're better off without them."
Mal turned to hear the whispers to his left, a young cadet’s armor and helmet met his gaze. Hardly any wear and tear, he knew he hadn't seen much action. "What?"
"I said the sooner we put this unpatriotic filth down the sooner we can bring order back to the city." He leaned in closer to Mal. "I got a steak and a nice desperate nurse from B4 pitching for some prime cut meat, but ya know what--"
Mal cut the young man off, a hard strike to the neck made all the armor he was wearing useless. He fell to the ground, his rifle clattering as his body collected in a small pool.
The conversations all stopped and everyone turned to the ruckus. Mal lifted his visor, looking down at the boy choking for air, the youthful eyes wide and panicked as he stared back.
"This 'filth' you're so eager to put down are the same as you, cadet." Mal spoke sternly, his commander giving him leeway. "They deserve as much justice as you and I do. They aren't some virus needing eradication, they're just fucking hungry." He took the cadets rifle and handed it to him. "But they are breaking the law, and order is in short supply these days. So if they need to be brought down, that's what were trained for."
The cadet took the rifle, and the extended hand Mal gave to stand him up, shaky legs and arms.
"But don't for a minute think they aren't human." He turned and returned to formation. "Because they are." He noticed the air was tense as he finished, hoping to break the mood he searched for a line to do it. "...what you do with your meat ration is your business. I ain't touching that one."
Laughter broke out, be it ever so slightly, until the supervisor broke back in.
"Alright if our public service announcement is done?" He raised an eyebrow to Mal. "We got a job to do. Good to go?!"
"Good to go!" He shouted, locking the slide on his rifle as the doors to the station opened to a full fledged war zone.
Nuka-World, 2287
Mal snapped his eyes to the largest of the new threats, his memories of taking down a large behemoth of a rioter flooding his mind momentarily. The consequences of living this long means all sorts of memory leaks. He thought.
"Alright, alright now everyone get the hell out of here." The lead raider tilted his cowboy hat back, revealing a makeshift eyepatch. The metal contrasted with the eye next to it, crisp and green compared to the yellow metal patch. "I'll show the boss around."
Mal watched as each of the well armed raiders left the arena, still sorting out all the possible exits he would need. He had no intention of a double cross, but he wasn't too sure his new friend was of the same mind.
"So it worked." Mal finally said, watching the final set of raiders leave. "You wanted that one dead, he’s dead, now I assume you’re in charge and I'm owed a few hundred caps." He holstered his gun into a concealed sleeve, just under his left arm. "Didn't catch the name."
"Didn’t give it." The cowboy spat to the side, slinging up a double barrel shotgun from behind him on his shoulder. "Mama named me Braeburn." Opening the slide on the back of the shotgun, he slammed it back shut with a single motion. "Most people call me Gage now."
Mal snorted softly, a similar sound coming from Dash behind him. He turned slightly to look her over, trying to make sure she wasn’t permanently damaged. "You alright?" he asked, lighting a smoke as he kept a wary eye on their new friend.
"She yours I take it?" Gage asked, motioning to the blinking collar on Dash neck. "Usually it’s the girls that got the men collared. Nice to see a change."
"She and I have an arrangement." Mal blew smoke at him. "Collar helps me keep track of her if she needs me to and other little items." Stepping from the relative shadow of the booth they were in, the lighting gave Gage the first real look he hadn’t gotten yet.
Reptile like eyes burned a purple hue back at him, causing a clearing of his throat. "So, boss, let's get you to your place, where you can hang your hat or plant your seed or whatever." Gage turned, shotgun slung over his shoulder. "We can talk better there, free of ears."
"She’s trustworthy." Mal said, following slowly.
"No doubt about that, boss. Meant no disrespect." He held the doors open. "More referrin’ to some of the uncouth louts we got nearby."
Mal laughed as he stepped into the main fairgrounds. "Raiders using the term uncouth." He knocked his ashes to the side as he carefully scanned the new wide potential battleground. "Quite a few surprises today it seems."
"Wait till you hear it all, boss." Braeburn locked up the doors. "You do what I reckon you’re capable of and we will have quite the arrangement for ya."
The walkthrough the main fairgrounds was very informative to him. Just the way the barricades and plywood were put up spoke to their intentions.
Eggheads seem to be onto something. He thought, scanning around the property. The smell of burning firewood mixed with the distinct smell of human remains told a bit more. They dont waste a lot nor are they entirely stupid. He pulled a smoke to his mouth and lit it. The sound of brass snapping caught a few off guard, though quickly resuming their discussion as Mal walked by.
Several comments about his posterior came from the crowd, and he took them in stride, smiling back at the ones he didn't find repulsive. Dash spit to the ground at a pack of girls eyeing them up, slinging her carbine to her shoulder. "Keep dreaming." She barked at them.
"Seems this pack isn't doing as well as most. I count 4 males so far." He whispered to his pipboy, bringing it up close as he pretended to fiddle with the radio. "One can talk and form sentences. Unsure of the others." He clicked off his recorder as they came to a makeshift elevator. Made out of a window washer platform, it was by far the least trustworthy looking contraption he had seen in a while. Tugging at the wiring holding it up, he gave Gage a skeptical look.
"Oh I know, I know its old. Works like a charm though." He stood on it as if to testify. "Hop on boss.”
Dash shared the look of disbelief with Mal and shrugged. "You first, 'boss'," she snickered, only to have Mal shove her on before him.
"Ladies first." Mal quilted, taking hold of a small wooden handrail as the motor whirred to life and lifted them slowly.
"I ain't no lady." Dash protested, squeaky wheels and a swaying platform making her grab her keepers arm to steady herself.
"That's for damn sure." He smirked, stroking her rainbow colored bangs clear of her eyes, staring into their bloodshot whites. "But you're better than nothing." He turned and threw his finished smoke to the distance.
"You’re all heart." She stared across the park, a huge fountain and pond in front of them sputtering water as they climbed higher.
"You two need a moment?" Gage tipped the brim of his hat up, finally taking on a skeptical look of his own as they disappeared higher to their destination: an old repurposed restaurant called the FizzTop.
Glancing around the rundown counters and table tops, Mal laughed a bit at the reality of it all. He remembered how powerful Nuka Cola Corporation had been, and yet seeing it all like this was amusing.
"Oh how the mighty have fallen."
"It ain't Paradise Falls, true, but it's the Overboss' place, and thusly yours." Gage gestured with his shotgun haphazardly. "Main living area and kitchen." The dirt crunched under his boots as he made his way to a set of double doors. "Main workshop and what not." He motioned again, making Dash duck as he swung around the barrel.
"Oy! Watch it with that thing." She scowled, diving to the left.
"Oops." He chuckled, turning to open a set of heavy and worn curtains on the main floor. Pulling them aside revealed a very well used king size mattress with dingy sheets on it. "This is the bedroom."
***
Appalachian Commonwealth, 2075
"Hasn't gotten a lot of use it seems." Steller's voice dripped of over abundant sexual overtones. The small black dress she wore barely leaving much to Mal’s imagination as she coiled back on the mattress.
"It gets me by." He smiled, undoing his jacket and tossing it aside. "Besides, don’t have a lot of time to socialize these days. Sleep. Eat. Work. Repeat." Walking to the dresser, he took his wallet from his front pocket and tossed it atop the wood. The trifold popping up to reveal a badge a brief moment before he tossed his tie on it, covering it. "Though I did enjoy having someone to talk to this evening. Usually I listen to the news as I eat and it's off to bed." He turned, loosening his shirt collar.
He smiled wider as he noticed her taking her shoes off, revealing her nylons had a few patched holes in them, which she immediately began to slide off. Watching her silently, he took in her curves, the nail polish on her toes was worn, and her feet had sign of neglect.
Not often she gets to use her make up rations on herself or the nail salon. He thought, unbuttoning his shirt. She must be using her allotment for other things. Looking at her body he scanned the usual areas for track marks and bruises, no indication of abuse or drug use. He slowed his motions down as he calculated.
He realized he had slowed down and she gave a concerned look. She stood and walked closer to him, hands reaching to massage his shoulders. "Anything wrong, handsome?"
The words felt fake as the news he listened to these days. He shrugged her off and kept going at a slower pace. Turning to stare down at her cleavage, he noticed a set of holo tags around her neck. “Lt. Sun Spot" it read, the other “Pvt.Sun Burst” .
He pushed her back a moment, taking her by surprise and locking her into a chicken wing hold. Covering her mouth as she began to cry out, he whispered into her ear. “Now let's talk about why you’re really here?” he yanked the tags, breaking the cord holding them in place, and dangled them in front of her widened eyes. “There’s more going on here then you’d have me believe.”
***
Nuka-World, 2287
“Lets cut the bullshit.” Mal watched the sweat form on Gage’s brow. Having turned into the barrel of his Hammer pistol, he couldn’t blame him. He cocked the hammer. “This is TOO wonderful of a deal. What's the catch?”
“Let’s, er, let’s just calm down, boss.” Gage said, his one visible eye wide as a saucer. “There’s nothing fishy, but there is a bit of a problem with everyone playing nice.” he steadied himself, his shotgun still resting on his shoulder.
“Ha! Knew it.” Dash laughed, having found a comfortable seat in the living area, she watched her keeper work, happy she wasn’t on his bad side at the moment.
“There’s three major factions in the park at the moment. Pack, Operators, and the bloodthirsty Disciples.” Gage continued, confidence coming back the longer the pistol didn’t fire. “You got the gumption to fix that, this place will be yours to run, with an army at your back.”
Mal stared him down, a long pause in the air filling the time as his purple slits gazed seemingly through the one eyed cowboy. Releasing the hammer, he holstered his pistol and nodded, blowing a puff of smoke from his cigarette. “Alright, keep talking.”
***
Appalachian Commonwealth, 2075
“I’m not some gold digger, I really do need help!” Stellar covered herself out of instinct, her hand clutching at the missing items. “Those are mine, give them back please.” She asked, reaching towards them as dignified as she could.
Opening her small clutch purse, he pulled out a long military service knife, bearing the name Sun Spot as well.
“Stop! Those are--” she stood up, only to reel backwards as Mal backhanded her.
“These your last scores?” he dangled them out of reach, scowling at her. “This your M.O.? Find a nice lonely looking John and then stick’em, take his benefits until they catch on and move on?” he demanded, her sobbing evident, facing away, she shook her head.
“No! They’re my son and husband’s tags! They’re all I have left!” she cried out, lunging at them and grabbing them, falling face first into the carpet. She clutched them desperately, staring up at him. “I …” she closed her eyes, as if swallowing an unpleasant pill from the doctor. “..keep people company for dinner and whatever they’re generous with.”
“You drink or shoot up your family benefits?” Mal asked, pulling his side arm from a top drawer and cocking it, aiming it down at her. “You should be well off with two dead.” His tone remained flat as the gun whined to life.
Steller shook with fear as she heard the whine peirce the air. “No! No! They’re MIA not KIA, the last time they passed benefits the fucking government knocked MIA benefits down by 80%. I barely have enough to pay rent.” She choked, shaking her head. “In fact I…” she looked down again. “I don’t have enough. I keep my landlord...satisfied when he wants...and he lets me slide by every month.”
Mal stared down the barrel, his sights focused on the terrified expression of Stellar, thoughts running through his head. “Government is cutting a lot. Probably true.” Sweat formed on her brow, matching her tears in size. “Lotta people got it tough…” releasing the hammer, he lowered the gun. “That doesn't make it right for either side to be hard on the other.”
“Your landlord’s raping you? Take me to them.” He said, holstering his side arm and pulling his badge into his pocket.
“W...what?” she blinked, confusion taking over her face. “Why?!”
“Because I’m an officer of the law, Stellar.” He buttoned his shirt up, adjusting the center of it. “And even though what you're doing isn’t against the law…what you claim he’s doing certainly is.” He smiled as she gave the smallest of smiles in return. A smile that brimmed of something he hadn't seen much in his line of work: hope.
***
Nuka World, 2287
Mal stood stalwart, an icy cold gaze surveying the raider gangs leaders. The shocked expressions were few and far between those who seemed to be having a good time or flat out insane.
Except for the leader of The Pack, who he had just executed in front of them.
Holstering his side arm, he stepped over the body, hands clasped behind his back, his trenchcoat swaying as he came to a stop. Staring them down still, he pushed his glasses up. "I trust we will have no more bitching and complaining?"
The shrill cry of a member of the Pack came from the back of the crowd, the charge taking even Mal by surprise.
Usually they calm down after I kill one. He thought, keeping a cool exterior, he barely moved. Sloppy charge. No training. Raw power. He concluded in his mind, narrowing his eyes, he projected the attackers path, a heavy axe in her hand ready to cleave Mal in half.
"Well ya did kinda ask for this." Dash smiled, she stood by uncharacteristically as a threat closed in on him. Given orders to let any challenger come at him and not her, she was amused at the sudden line of challengers. The one cry led to several more raiders gaining courage and all of them pushed past the crowd, taking Mal at different directions.
Mal spun out of the first chop from the downward strike, elbowing his attacker in her back to throw her off balance. Drawing his Hammer pistol at the same moment, he emptied two rounds into her back. Ducking from a series of quick slices from another avenging girl, she met her fate with a palm to her nose, killing her instantly as the brain took the impact of the strike. Two more left, Mal grabbed the one dead body and used it to absorb the shotgun blast from one and threw the twitching body to the other.
Trench coat swirling, reminiscent of some sort of cape from an Unstoppables comic book, the former resident of Vault 76 kicked the shotgun aside as it discharged its only other round. The desperate raider lunged at him, stumbling him back, the Hammer pistol flying from his grasp.
"He ain't got shit, kill’em with his own gun!" she shouted from her crouched spot, a second later crying out as he snapped her neck from her failed tackle under his arm.
The last girl picked up the pistol and pulled the sights up to zero in on Mal. She didn’t have time to think as the safeguard went off and two rather sharp blades snapped out from the handle. Grasping her remaining fingers, she cursed as she dropped the boobytrapped firearm.
Mal closed the distance and pulled a military issue knife from a sheath on the back of his belt. The blade flashed through the air and embedded into the last challenger's throat, her body tensing in surprise.
Walking over to the stunned girl, he kicked her onto her back and reached down to grab the handle. Pulling it clear he looked around for other issues, and found none. Dash began clapping in appreciation.
"And that ladies and gents is why you don’t want to fuck with Mal." She announced with a grin. "And why I get first round with him if he wants." She added, kicking dirt at a few of the more bold girls eyeing him up.
Mal maintained his stoic expression, pulling the blade to examine it, he picked up the Hammer and holstered it again. He wiped the blood from the blade on the last girls chest straps, revealing the name "Lt. Sun Spot" etched on it.
He spun around to the remaining ones, the few Pack members left showing no intention of challenging him. All were now held by members of the other two gangs, both remaining factions no doubt eager to please the new Overboss.
"What shall we do with the leftovers…" Nisha, the leader of the assassin like Disciples, finally broke the silence.
"Let us live and we'll follow you, boss!" Pleaded, joined in by similar voices.
Mal thought for a moment and looked at his blade, remembering something it seemed, and slide it back behind him. Glancing at them, then the huge fountain behind them, he turned away and walked towards his elevator. "Drown them." He finally said, before adding. "One at a time, and remind everyone that next time the punishment might be awful if this happens again."
Dash raised an eyebrow, but followed closely as the elevator brought them up. As the first struggling straggler was brought to the fountain and bound, she cried out for mercy before they reached the top of the Fizztop.
"Not that I care but..." Dash finally asked. "Haven't you ever heard about the benefit of the doubt?"
Mal stopped as she asked, turning quickly as the same blade came inches from her eyes. The name on it clear as day to her. "I have, dear Dashy…I've found it's better to be safe than sorry." He smiled finally. "Call it a life experience." The sound of the metal knife being sheathed filled the room as he turned and walked to the bathroom. "Lock the patio and get undressed." He said, pointing to their new bed.
Dash shrugged and watched him leave, pulling her harness off casually as the doors slammed shut.
***
Appalachian Commonwealth, 2075
Mal sat on the edge of the stairs, the wet concrete soaking into his pants slightly as he stared down at the blade, the fresh rain washing the blood away slowly as flashing police lights and ambulance flickering strobes hit his vision. The attending officers and paramedics all muttered about, loading a few body bags into the back of the ambulance.
“This even worth processing?” one asked.
“Naw, these are tagged by U.P., straight to the incinerators. No papers. No funeral.” The other stated, slamming the ambulance door.
"You alright?"
Mal looked up and stared at his squad leader, who was tapping his security baton on the steel handle of the stairs he sat on. He looked back down almost instantly, watching the silver and chrome of the blade emerge slowly as rain continued.
"Long night." Mal focused on the handles name, trying to sum up what exactly had happened. "Gold digger caught me at the station. Brought her home. Gave me a sob story."
"Mal, ya gotta be careful." The man said, stepping closer. "Most of those girls are after only one thing and know you’re more than likely after another." He leaned on the railing, tilting his officers hat up gently.
"Yeah." Mal stared forward still, thunder rumbling in the distance. "I gave her the benefit of the doubt." He sheathed the knife and pocketed it in his jacket. Standing up, the ambulance pulled away with little flash or siren to be seen. "Turned out the sob story she gave me was just that. She tries her best to stick it to her John's before they can. If she can’t, she brings’em here with a story about an abusive landlord. Husband. Lover. Who knows?" Mal lifted his gaze to his supervisor, a pair of sad brown eyes staring back slowly turned into a glare.
"That's why we got two stiffs and a new housing opening?" he motioned to the apartment Steller had lured him to. "Belongs to a girl by the name of Flare. Army widow." He read from a folder in his hand, closing it just as quick. "Tried to kill ya once ya got here? Resource snatchers?"
Mal nodded, looking out across the horizon as the rolling storm moved with the slowness of a stubborn mule. Lightning pulsed in the back of it as his gaze moved to a billboard nearby for Vault Tec. "Yup. First thing they demanded was my credentials. Gonna scam the system and take all my food and gas rations." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a pack of smokes, taking one and lighting it. "Been thinking about how you said the Vault thing might not be a bad idea. I still got the letter." He blew a puff of smoke upwards.
"Not a bad idea, Mal." He walked with his teammate, stepping around the police barricades. "World’s getting worse. Got a buddy who works in Vegas. Sez his boss thinks the big bombs coming in less than two years."
"Bah. Everyone thinks the worlds going to end tomorrow." Mal knocked ashes off his smoke as they traveled.
“This guy knows his stuff, never been wrong.” He added. “Besides...you look like you could really use a place to get away. Worse case, Vault 76 is a publicity stunt and you're out in a year or two. Should be plenty of peace and quiet.” He leaned in. “Best case, you get to brave a new world if my friend’s right.”
Mal didn’t answer, pulling out the knife again and looking it over. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll look into it tomorrow morning. Thanks for covering for me, boss.”
“What are friends for?”
***
Nuka World, 2287
Mal stood on the balcony of the Fizztop, the sun having set an hour ago, the raiders below either on patrol or drinking. A few were doing chems and having a louder time all around the park. He focused on the squad of them disposing of the bodies from his orders, reminding him of the more unpleasant parts of the world he long left behind.
He heard Dash sit up, scratching her head and stretching, but he focused on the gangs below, pulling a smoke from his mouth and tossing the butt to the wind.
“Ya’ barely did what you usually do to me…” she said groggily, leaning on the door sill, the light from inside capturing her curves. Her hand went to her head, shaking off the chemical cocktail she had for the evening. “Ya’ alright?”
Mal stared silently a moment longer, turning to partially answer her. “I’m fine. Go back to sleep. Just assessing the problem.”
Dash listened and nodded. “We gotta’ kill’em all eh?” she folded her arms, hugging her bare arms half out of the chill and the other half the realization. “That’s why we were sent here.”
“Why I was sent here.” He corrected her, turning back and staring over the park again. “But I think I see another opportunity here.” The side of one of the corners of his mouth curled slightly. “Maybe. We’ll have to see.”
“Alright then.” Dash stood up and wandered back in, hesitant to respond anymore.
“We’ll have to see.” He said again softly, staring around as silence fell around him, the familiar feeling of isolation despite being around people overtaking him again.
Cycles and Circles By DarkMalcontent Proofreads by Ali Brainstorming by the Think Tanks (Alden, Floof, Kyle and Spencer)
****
The Institute, Level D Decontamination Rooms, 2276 (Prior to Nuka World Mission)
"Don't touch me ya' daff robots. I can clean meself!"
Mal chuckled as he watched Dash backhand one of the generation 1 synths to the ground. The other two surrounded the naked pit fighter with spray nozzles and radiation scrubbing body wash. The one way glass concealed his observation, though he wasn't alone in the room. Darting his eyes to the right, the glint of his organic night vision slowly fades, barely leaving a purple glow now behind his glasses. "You into voyeurism, doc?" his slightly fanged tooth exposed as he smiled.
The annoyed sigh left him happy as Dr. Shimmer's heels clicked twice as she stood next to him. Arms folded, her yellow skin tone contrasted to her white lab coat as she observed another synth go flying. "You realize this woman, this Dash?" she asked with a tone of half interest. "You realize her very existence down here goes against a great deal of protocol. I don't see why you needed her down here."
Mal placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it, puffing a cloud in front of him that wafted towards Dr. Shimmer. "She needs a blood cleaning. The machine we were going to use at Vault 95 was already used up and broken." He inhaled again, closing his eyes to enjoy the nicotine. "Besides you owe me." He finished, another puff blowing towards her.
"I owe you nothing." Dr. Shimmer snapped at him, her eyes narrowing at her former specimen and lover. Taking her anger a step further, she pulled the cigarette from his lips and tossed it to the ground. A split second later a precision laser fired from the ceiling and extinguished it. "Bioscience told me you called in an order for a pure form of Psycho?" she asked, fire in her voice. "What's the point of cleaning her up and getting her off psycho only to give her more?"
Mal focused on the spent cigarette, a look of annoyance matched Shimmers now. Staring down, he looked back to her. "You eggheads never could crack human elements could you? Always so busy with insemination and fertility that you forget who the expert is on human behavior."
"You are far from what could be considered an expert at anything, Mal." Dr. Shimmer pushed a bang from her eyeliner. "You can barely understand what you want out of life, let alone this...this junkie." She gestured towards Dash as another synth went flying.
"This 'junkie' is easily the best candidate for a partner topside I've found in decades." Mal responded. "I need her cooperative and her head clean. But she can't think the entire idea isn't hers. She's got a need for control."
"Again you speak as if your an expert in the matter of psychological evaluations." She responded with a step towards him.
"I may not have graduated from some big university, doctor." Mal emphasized her title with disdain. "But more than two centuries of people watching and over fifty years of Urban Pacification taught me to use the resources I have when I find a good one." He took a step toward her, his combat boots making a similar thud as her heel. "I'm telling you she needs to think this is her idea. We can't simply control her with intimidation, she’ll just eat a bullet herself and that's a waste of such...good...young…" Mal paused as he gave Dr. Shimmer a once over with a smile to emphasize her age to him now. "Material. I do hate to waste good material."
An uneasy moment of silence passed and Shimmer stared defiant at him.
"Now the reason we need to get Bioscience to make the psycho I've ordered is simple. I need her to work well in the field with me. She only works good when she has the chemicals in her bloodstream." He lit another cigarette as he spoke, folding his arms to watch the last reluctant synth spraying her down for decontamination. "The chemical compound they make uptop has nasty side effects and would kill her at this rate." He inhaled and blew a ring of smoke up. "The new formula has no side effects but when built up in the body from regular use, makes withdrawal near lethal."
"So you keep her hooked and reliant on the supply or the pain never stops?" Dr. Shimmer finished, shaking her head. "That's barbaric and I won’t--"
Mal turned and halted her mid sentence, the click of his HAMMER pistol echoing near her ear as he closed the distance. Eye to eye, the pistol was presented not as a threat but handle first to her. "Barbaric? You mean to lecture me? You people snatch people and replace them for no other reason then idle curiosity." He stared her down as his eyes began to glow purple again. "You and I are absolutely the same. Your Institute and myself differ at no other level than the fact I have no issue getting my hands dirty." Mal holstered his main weapon to his shoulder harness. "Whereas you can't stomach it. You may present different reasons why citing a superior intellect or the basic fact you can't stomach the work." He blew a puff of smoke that concealed his face, leaving two glowing eyes that now lit up her face as he stared at her. "But in the end you need people like me more than we need you."
Dr. Shimmer stared back, several moments passed as she began to try and respond, only to stop.
"Hence." He turned back and watched as the final synth went down, as the decontamination light turned green to signal finish."You owe me."
"Oy! Let me out of here and get me something to wear! I'm fucking freezing!" Dash banged on one of the doors, staring at the mirror. "You heard me!"
"Bioscience will have the blood cleanser ready and now that she's decontaminated she can go there. Under guard. Not just you." Shimmer relented, trying to save some face. "Once that's sorted out I want you and her teleported back uptop." She continued, pulling a folder off a table behind them. "In exchange for all that, I've been told to give you this as your next assignment. Counter Intelligence wants this group looked at. They seem to be based in Diamond City. Area they call 'The Bleachers'."
Scanning over the file he tapped on one of the photos. "Cute girl."
"Don't get any ideas. This needs to be deep cover. Go alone. Leave your little prize at the safe house. Once you have their confidence, contact us by secure connection and we will have your next steps." Dr. Shimmer finished.
"Mmm." He finished his smoke and tossed it to the floor. The Institute fire suppression system fired a laser and it extinguished instantly. "Looks like I'll need a change of clothes."
"An attitude change wouldn't hurt either." She turned and walked out, leaving him to study the folder.
"Hmm. Quite A Diamond City Story we have here. A vault refugee, a nuka dealer, an outcast and a courier." He closed the file and walked out of the room to collect Dash from the decontamination room.
***
"It sounds like our operative is reaching the end of his usefulness to us, Dr. Shimmer?" A modulated voice pierced the speakers of Dr. Shimmer's office. Flickering lines from the video transmission of The Directorite's main chambers made it all the more inhuman. The darkened room held five visible terminal screens, each with a computer generated face on them.
"Our operative Mal is still full of plenty of data from the old world." Dr. Shimmer answered, folding her hands in front of her. "Respectfully I would disagree we take any action of an aggressive nature towards him. He still has uses."
"Yes I understand you have taken advantage of many of those uses?" Another screen shifted itself towards the camera, the letters 'L.U.N.A.' barely visible. Bubbling on top was a bell jar filled with murky fluid and a series of wires. Culminating on the wires terminated was a preserved brain on a spinal column. "I understand you took a very hands on approach when exercising your fertility departments extractions?"
Shimmer winced and looked down only briefly. "Respectfully, ma'am, how my department attains the goals I've been tasked with is irrelevant." She narrowed her eyes back at LUNA. "I get results."
"Yes and at the expense of vital stock we have on ice. I understand you thawed out another breeder?" Across the room another brain popped into view, the face of a younger woman flickered on the screen under it: Cadence
"Under whose authority are you merely thawing out these company resources and doing with them--" LUNA began before the main computer, TIA interrupted. The hydraulics of her brain case shifting as it moved to imitate standing up.
"Enough. Dr. Shimmer went through all appropriate steps and has full authority to do as she wishes within the departments objectives." TIA responded as both the more vocal members shifted down to equilivlant of sitting. "The rewards and the consequences are hers and hers alone to shoulder." The eyes on the TIAs screen began to narrow. "This I'm sure she is well aware of."
Dr. Shimmer swallowed as quietly as she could and nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. I assure you there is a method to my madness." She gave a quick smile. "The Directorite's faith will be rewarded."
"I certainly hope so. It would be unfortunate for you to follow in your predecessor's footsteps." A fourth console appeared reading 'CINCH' leaned in.
A silence fell over both rooms as Dr. Shimmer cleared her throat. "I stand by my actions and assure you results will be more than satisfactory."
A series of binary sounds mixed with clicking came from all the Directorate consoles each display displayed a thumbs up or a thumbs down icon. Counting the vote it tied with TIA failing to cast a vote.
"Dr. Shimmer." TIA shifted in her position. "You are tasked with ensuring the continuation of the species in the face of massive gender inequality. How is the goal of ensuring fertile generations achieved by releasing what valuable stock offers males we have? If you could summarize?"
"Quite simply, madam director, you cannot make an omelette without breaking a few eggs." Dr Shimmer continued. "Project Rejuvenation relies on three distinct stages. Stage one where we use an able bodied and intelligent Male, with a synth chaperone, secures and rehabilittarises one of several non working but viable vaults." She cleared her throat. "The Male then begins under the guise of a new settlement, to gather a mixed sampling of near and far female stock--"
"Do not reduce our gender to such terms." CINCH interjected. "They are the cattle, we are the future." Her screen shifted to an angry emote.
"With the draw of an intelligent Male who seems to know enough to keep things going we interview entrants to secure a wide range sampling of the wasteland." She continued, taking out her frustrations on a pencil in her grip. "Once full to a properly manageable level we begin testing with the help of onsite synth fertility proxy. S5-37 had been fully uploaded with all the needed files to begin baseline swabbing and testing."
"And once you have a distinct baseline?" LUNA leaned in with a curious tone.
"At that point we begin to weed out applicants while taking the data and plugging it into our database. We then find out if we have a chance despite all the radiation damage to the population if we can expect to survive.." she paused and looked at them all. "...or begin to contemplate other methods of preservation."
As she sat down more binary buzzers and data began to sound from her superiors. Finally a vote of four to one came up. She breathed a sigh of relief.
"Contact us the moment you have any developments." TIA said, the lights turning off and leaving the televised room dark and hollow save the five brains bottom lighting on each console. "Regardless, operative Mal is to be kept on a short leash."
"Men like him were the reason war began. Don't forget that. " LUNA remarked as the room went still. "The future is in far better hands with our gender."
She leaned back as the connection terminated and rubbed her forehead in relief. "So I keep hearing." She frowned to herself.
***
Vault 76, 2099
"Overseer." Mal nodded to the young woman, his eyes wandering a bit to look at the items in her office. The smaller office was about half the size of the rooms they were given to sleep in. Atop her shelves were knick knacks and pictures, none of which interested him that much. Nothing too revealing about her personality to the casual observer.
Her room was another matter, though he only was privy to it when the mood seemed to strike her.
"Specialist Mal." The short formal haircut she had barely moved as she looked up from her desk. Adjusting her glasses with a single slender finger, she smiled at him briefly. "Thank you for coming in such short notice."
"Nothing too special going on today ma'am." He answered, standing as straight as possible out of habit. "I was running more drills with your security team. "
"I trust you have only good things to say?" The tone was hard to read, the quirking eyebrow wrinkled her peach colored brow ever so slightly. She wasn't any older then he was when they had entered the vault. They were both reaching middle age in the metal tomb and the activities to stave off stir crazy outburst only worked so much. They had to constantly come up with new ideas along with old ones.
"The team will be ready when the doors open, Overseer." He nodded. "I can only give them the training, I can't make them succeed." He sighed, his brown eyes flinching a bit with concern. "The New Years Eve party is ready as we shall ever be. I recommended double staff for it and patrol routes to the Security Chief."
"Yes, so I've heard. The chief is always quite concerned with you. He keeps telling me how stern you've been to our security team and even are issuing new tactics." She took her glasses off and ran a hand through her hair gently. "He has expressed concern about your need to drill the teams so often and that some of the tactics are perhaps too rigid for simple security officers." She raised an eyebrow. The leather chair she sat in squeaked as she turned to look at him.
"Ma'am, I can assure you, what I'm doing is what you asked me for." The exasperated look on Mal's face seemed to make her smile more.
"Oh I have no doubt. You've done everything I've requested…" she leaned back with a coy smile. "...and so much more than was required by dutiful service." She chewed her glasses stem softly as she gave him a slow look up and down.
"Overseer, the training will make the success of reclaiming the country much higher if you authorize the regiment I gave to--" Mal stopped as she stood up, arching her back as she grabbed hold of the small of it. A soft crack and groan came out of her as she looked at him again. Turning to look out the small circular window of her office, the view gave her all she needed to see of the main atrium.
"I share our chief's concerns. I'm responsible for over 500 people. I cant have them breaking before they do their duties." Placing her glasses back on, she smiled into the reflection of the window, coyly her gaze met Mal again. "Now why don't you stop by later at my quarters. We can discuss the matter in depth. Perhaps I can find a use for your rigid nature and convince the chief otherwise?" she looked across the atrium as she finished her sentence.
Mal winced as she implied what he knew she was implying. All too often would she demand a meeting, being done in private. He found it upsetting at first, but as the years wandered on he found it more than acceptable. He was under her, in many ways, and she was in charge.
The corruption he disliked about the old world that he had hoped would die with it was still clinging to life support. Locked into the mindset of these old world brains. Mal contemplated for a long moment as he watched her body shift in the dim light, and it became clear again why he had no choice.
"Of course, ma'am." He said with a nod, a more restrained tone in his voice.
"That will be all." She said as she continued to stare at the activity across the work floor. The metal clank of a lighter snapping shut hit his hears. He watched as she lit a cigarette and blew smoke forward in a cloud. The logo of Vault 76 pristine and clean, much like the rest of the vault.
"Yes ma'am." He paused a moment before replying, then turned and left, the door sealing behind him.
Walking past the guard at the door, he began to second guess himself. But just as quick he stood by his words, rationalizing that the only way anyone was going to be prepared was using the training he could give them. Back and forth a mental struggle went on as his boots clicked down the stairwell to the main atrium.
He wondered if they were worth keeping alive when the doors opened. If the old world thinking that got them there was going to be an endless loop if he did this all and some lived. Turning and rubbing the bridge of his nose, he felt the burn from an accident in the reactor room 10 years ago.
A decade old but the pain was still a memory. Recalling the accident, the images went by fast as he pushed a young lady and her husband away from a pipe that was about to blow. They were too engaged in an argument to bother noticing the warning signs. The steam blew and the metal had branded his bridge with a third degree burn.
They never really thanked him. They seemed too set on being upset with him for pushing them. It was only when the Overseer made them appreciate him did they do anything a week later.
That's what you get for being the white knight. He thought to himself. "Maybe I've been making a lot of bad decisions. Like coming to this vault."
As quickly as he thought it, he shook it away from his mind.
"No. I'm doing the right thing. These people, as crass and egghead as they are won’t survive without us protecting them. It's all worth it in the end." He nodded to himself as he entered his room, the door sealing behind him.
Sitting down on his bed, he closed the curtain door and began to ready himself for the evening with his Overseer.
"I hope she’s not as demanding as last time." He groaned as he began to undress for a shower. "I'm not as young as I used to be." He muttered to himself as he grabbed a towel and walked to the stall in his bathroom. "Sometimes I just wish I could live forever. Never enough time." He sighed as he shut the curtain and kicked the water on.
***
Nuka-World, 2078, Overboss Bedroom
“Be careful what you wish for, eh?”
Mal lifted his head up, the cigarette he had in his hands having burned down to the filter. The cold wind of the outside blew his hair out of his eyes, the small glow shifting from them as he turned back in. Looking at Dash, he shut the door behind him. “What was that?”
He watched as she sat up straighter on the bed, putting her top back on and slipping it over her slim frame. Fluffing her hair a bit, she tilted her gaze back to him, fumbling on the counter of a smoke herself. “The whole lot here.” She bit the filter, the light of his brass lighter catching the end on fire. A split second later the end began to glow as she took a long drag in. Leaning back she tilted her head back, sitting cross legged on their bed. “They wanted a real leader. Someone who could organize and fix their issues.” She blew a cloud of smoke up and stared at it as it dissipated above them. “Don’t they always say ‘Careful what you wish for’?” Dash turned back to her handler and lover, the blood shot eyes focusing on him now.
Closing the distance between them, the rising moon caught most of his bare chested features for her. No stranger to combat prior to his gifts, the roadmap on his chest and sides played out with different bullet wounds and old punctures from blades. The sound of his boots and creaking of wood filled the uneasy silence as he got right in front of her, staring down at her.
Dash traced a particularly visible wound on his left ab with her fingers, the lighter still clutched. Looking up, she stared at him through her bangs, a level of uneasiness growing as they locked glares. The slow blink of her “tracker” collar she agreed to wear as all the movement between the two now.
Before she could react, Mal had her wrist in his hand, smiling slowly at her discomfort as he squeezed. “That they do, Dashy.” He finally shattered the silence with his words, accompanied by the pained grunts from Dash. Toes clenching and teeth gritting, the clutch she had on his lighter loosened and he caught it with his other hand effortlessly.
The fading logo of Vault 76 barely caught the reflection of the moonlight as he took it from her. Releasing her hand just as quick, he let her recover, the smile fading from his face slowly. “They also say ‘Don’t press your luck’.” He finished. Letting her rub her wrist, he noticed her take a rather angry expression at him as he turned. He reached into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulled free a vial of the custom Psycho he had made for her. Tossing it at her, she caught it as if it was gold, clutching it just as she had the lighter. “Get dressed after you get your dose. We have a lot to do.”
***
Vault 88, Atrium, 2078
“Well that adds another piece to the puzzle.” Sunset said.
Knight turned his head, his grip on the irradiated Spike’s arm. “Pardon?”
“Reading some more of the entries around the vault we can access, sounds like the lower levels may have much more in terms of supplies.” Her eyes shifted, the iris in them rotating clockwise. “But we need some heavy equipment to get to them. How’s our little friend?”
“He’s alive, but I’m not sure how soon we can get him entirely conscious. He wasn’t frozen the conventional way.” Knight stood up, dusting his real hand with the artificial one. “Not to mention the lead in that fridge didn’t seal in the freshness so to speak.” He checked his Pip-Boy. “Radiation made it in there, so who knows if he’s going to be entirely...coherent.”
Sunset nodded, turning to look over the young frost covered boy. “He’s in for a bit of a system shock either way.” She knelt and checked over the small frame of Spike with her own devices. “Of course you’d know a bit about that yourself wouldn’t you?” she added.
“You aren’t kidding.” Knight nodded. “I tell you if he just stayed asleep, it would almost be better for him.” He gave a grim nod. “The world is nothing like it used to be.”
“Well. I’m not a conventional doctor, but my readings aren’t telling me more than what you already know.” She said, staying knelt down as she pocketed her bag of medical scanners. “He would stay asleep for another 200 years.”
“AH!” Spike’s eyes snapped open as he sat straight up, holding his chest. Frost and ice dropped from him as he shifted rapidly in his makeshift tomb. “Twilight!?”
“Or you know he could just wake up now.” Sunset raised an eyebrow, a slight shrug escaping her frame.
Knight began to speak but then turned his head to the sound of an old fashioned bell ringing. “What the hell was that? Is someone making toast? That sounded like a kitchen timer.”
“Oh!” Sunset stood up. “That's Twilight. She’s revived.” She chuckled a bit. “This is all very poorly timed.”
Strange Bedfellows By DarkMalcontent Proofs by Ali Consultation by the Pony Think Tank (Alden, Kyle and Spencer)
***
Appalachia Wasteland, 2102
I swear if I ever find that Overseer, she and I are going to have a discussion about her definition of 'slight change'. Mal thought, stepping over the recent kill he had made. A crustacean crab, equal to the size of two modern trucks, twitched a final time, the rear end of it stuck in a shell of an old van. "Damn things catch me all the time, camouflaged as a burnt out van."
He slung a worn shotgun to his shoulder, the strap tightening as he slid its buckle closed. He lifted his left arm, the Pipboy on it flickering as he flicked a dial to the left. A map of the area lit up, making him squint slightly.
"Damn thing must be shorting out." He blinked as he looked away, thoughts filling his mind. "I hope anyway." He had noticed in the last few months he had preferred night operations when going to do MODUS' field work. The daylight was almost too bright even with sunglasses on. He chalked it up to having lived in 76 for so long, not to mention his main quarters being in ANOTHER vault under White Springs.
Mal navigated using his Pipboy to what was once an old hotel near a gas station in the far north. It was here that MODUS had an issue that needed fixing. Several receivers had gone out of alignment and none of the robots under his control were able to make it this far. In fact no one had been here in quite a while by the looks of the gas station shelves.
Normally somewhat picked clean, this one was still fairly well stocked. He took a step inside, his hand primed to his pistol holster. Kneeling down to look over the well stocked shelves, he pocketed a few salvageable pieces of scrap.
He recalled other Red Rockets in his youth, the clean and gleaming floors and walls, the ever smiling but clearly fake persona of the attendant, the absurd price for Coolant.
"The good old days." He mused to himself. He had taken to thinking inward, as actual human contact was mainly absent in his travels. Since the original team he was tasked with protecting out of the vault had all died in one form or another, he had grown used to solitude. It was only with MODUS did he ever get any interaction at all, though it was hardly a stimulating conversation.
Pushing around the cans on the shelves, he kept an open ear for critter sounds or worse. Eyeing up a couple of cans of beans and CRAM, he took them from the bottom shelf and examined the dates.
"2080 expiration. Not bad." He smirked, standing up, he took a stroll behind the counter and checked the terminal for power.
The ticking and buzzing of the screen briefly filled the room with life as it booted up. Glancing away at the brightness, he typed a few commands in. Pulling up the mail on the database he skimmed them. The first was dated 2075.
"...unable to move anything food or drink wise. Why are we still open if the hotel isn't?"
He clicked through the messages, taking what interesting tidbits of the old world he remembered. The next one was dated 2076.
"Stopping all new arrivals for food. These things expire a year after they arrive and I've had to throw a shipment away. Thank goodness the nursing home down south takes them to feed the residents."
Mal frowned at the screen as he reread the last entry. Pulling the can out and looking over the date and back to the last message, he raised an eyebrow. "That ain't right."
A crunch of decades old gravel caught his ear, a split second turn brought his shotgun up to the other door. No target in sight, he scanned the immediate lines of sight around him. The door. The back door. The windows.
At the same time, a spear sailed in through a glassless window. The metal tip struck the shotgun, shooting off a random shot into the tiled flooring. It came to a stop embedded into his shoulder. Another spear came flying in, dislodging the shotgun from his grip, landing it on the far side of the room.
Crouching behind the counter top, Mal felt the tip dig in more as it comically stuck out from his right shoulder. Pulling it free elicited an undignified growl that was chased with the sound of his pistol cocking, the pre war technology whining to life.
Need to make these shots count. Energy cells have been out of stock for twenty-five years. He thought, looking out the windows to find the source of the attack. The worn side of the pistol barely bore the words HAMMER on it, the red hue of their stenciling having worn off over decades.
"Betcha thought this was an easy stash to raid, huh?" a female called out, a distinct Bronx accent coming from her. "Yeah well you ain't taking this girl or her stuff, ya hear me!?"
Mal searched the immediate area past the pumps and the side of the hotel. The area he focused on seemed to gather light around from all directions, giving him a line of sight on a skinny short haired girl, with orange toned skin that would have made her hard to spot in the trees nearby. Laying down some cover fire, he heard two rounds land at the concrete in front of her, startling her and giving him time to traverse to his wayward shotgun.
Rolling to the more easily defended position right under the windows, he edged his head up to gauge how many he was facing.
"I'm not interested in your stuff, lady." Mal shouted out as he switched windows and ducked closer towards the back door. "Just making a service call." He hoped to pin down her new position with taunting.
"What sorta moron comes up here, alone anyway? You got a death wish?" she shouted back, revealing she hadn't left her corner of the hotel. "You hear ol' Babs was easy picking? Shows what you know."
Mal let her talk, making his crouched movement out the back door. Shotgun ready, he peeked out the corner from the gas station and surveyed. Looking up and down the walkways of the motel, he didn't see any back up. She's got to be alone.
Crickets nearby stopped as Mal kept quiet, listening to her try and talk tough while he flanked her position.
"You dumbass survivors never learn. Stay the hell away from me." She hollered at the gas station. "I don't want trouble but I ain't letting no one pluck my stash clean while I go take a squat in the woods!"
Mal found the hallway she was crouched in, her voice echoing down the back of it and allowing his footsteps to be unheard. No time to talk her down, not while she's got me in her sights. He thought.
"Now I'm going to give you five seconds to surrender peacefully or I'm gunna hafta' get nasty with-"
The sound of Mal cocking his shotgun behind her ear cut her off.
"...shit." She said, hands going up above her head. "Let's just calm the fuck down and maybe we can all come out a winner, kay?" she turned her head to barely look at him, her short red hair and freckles caught in the moonlight. "You want the stuff? You can have it. Just leave me be."
Mal looked down at the girl. She was scantily clad in what seemed to be a pieced together harness that just barely covered her breasts and had a number of patchwork leather across the harness.
"Don't. On your knees." Mal barked, his eyes trained on her hands and waistline.
She swallowed softly and with a half second of reluctance, did as commanded, staring up at her apparent executioner. "Now wait. You look like ya been out here a bit. You don't want to shoot...me do ya?" she gave half a smile, a sultry tone that was as clumsy as her kneeling. "I mean you came here to raid, what an item I am to trade...or...or keep! You don't want to just shoot a prize piece of-"
She tilted her head at the same time her left hand went to her side, a crude knife glinting in the moonlight. She leapt forward with a wild desperate stab that missed and hit a concrete wall.
At the same moment Mal sidestepped the swing, using her momentum slammed her into the wall face first. He followed up with a buttstroke from his shotgun, sending her unconcious to the ground.
"You're right about that. Ammo is not easy to come by." He laughed. Checking her pulse for a brief moment, he stood up, taking her crude spear and a rust covered hatchet from her belt. Picking her up, he slung her into a storage closet and locked the door.
The final screw dropped to the concrete as Mal opened the metal covering in front of him. The satellite uplink it was attached to sat dead to the world, much like most of the world itself. He pinned for the sounds of the city or even the suburbs, yet only the eerie silence of the wasteland answered around him.
Keeping an ear open to the utility closet he stored the girl in, he worked quickly on identifying the bundles of wires in the uplink. Tapping the side of his Pipboy, the light on it made it easier as it lit up, allowing him to find two specific wires that had broken. Despite his newly acquired night vision, color difference was a problem in the dark still. The slightest of shocks bit his fingerless gloves like tiny fish, reminding him of the weekend fishing trips of his youth.
He would often sit with his father on the dock in front of their home, passing the time away as his father fished and he daydreamed, lazily draping a hand into the cool water.
The lights along the communication boards flickered a moment, two red lights staring back at him from the dark depth of the unit. They turned to a light green after a brief second of indecision. Hums and whirs began to fill his ears as connections revived the device, power flowing into it again and a slight but growing crackle sounded from the onboard speaker.
"Ah. There you are, general." MODUS chirped across the broken speaker. "I am so happy…you were able to swing by...this lovely location. Though originally thought to be a...motel...this Seneca Visitors Center...now holds host to a…new threat other than…boring tour guides."
Mal shook his head slightly, taking out a small crumpled pack of grey tortoise cigarettes and fishing one out. Pulling out a beaten but well oiled lighter, he snapped it open and lit the end, taking a drag of smoke, the orange tip lighting brighter as he did.
A moment far too brief in his opinion passed until he let out a puff of smoke, letting the nicotine soothe his otherwise empty soul. "Hurry up with the rundown, MODUS, I'd like to get out of here before daylight."
"The uplink requires...mmm...maintenance that has otherwise been neglected. The rudimentary repair you performed on this unit will…need to be...duplicated on gamma and beta units spread across the property." MODUS broken speech pattern answered. Years of neglect and a failed attempt by his former masters to destroy him had left the AI worse for wear and a bit more paranoid.
"Gotcha. Call back in a bit." Mal pocketed the lighter as he stood. Scanning around the property, he tapped his Pipboy display and started walking towards one of the locations.
"Hey, what's the big idea?" a small voice came from behind him, muffled by the wooden door she was behind. The door knob rattled a few times.
"Answer me!" she hollered as the door rattled a bit louder. "I swear to god if you're out there going through my stash!" she barked at him, the wood cracking a bit under her strained motions.
Mal stopped as she asked, turning to face her direction, his eyes giving a faint purple glow as they adjusted to the darkness. The uniform of an Enclave Officer adorned him in the moonlight, the long overcoat complimented by a tie and dress shirt seemed alien compared to her skimpy scavenged outfit. "No use bitching. You're in there until I'm done. I am not here for your stash. Just keep calm and we will be out of each other's hair in no time " He knocked ashes from his smoke to the ground. "Well, what hair you have." He smirked, letting a smile slip as he turned back to walk across the parking lot as she shouted insults through the door.
Kneeling at another device he began to unscrew the paneling and fiddle with the insides as he had with the first device. Finding it a bit harder to concentrate with the jabbering behind him, it took him a minute or two longer than he had hoped. The whine of capacitors charging sounded and he replaced the cover, taking a glance up to the second floor staircase along the outside of the building.
Taking a hop over what was once a human being, he made a quick trip up to the lodging. Trekking over the debris from panicked evacuation no doubt, he knelt down at the last device and began his work.
Freezing before the final connection was finished, the telltale screech of an animal from above sent him to his side arm. Practically scanning the skyline, wincing at the moonlight, he searched for the source. Distant sounds of wings flapping echoed closer as another screech came, heralding the arrival of a Scorchbeast!
Sliding his pistol to his holster, the gentle waft of dust he stirred up was the only sign of activity. Pulling the shotgun to a ready stance, he kept down and in the shadows, watching as the menacing and frighteningly large shadow of the beast circling the facility grew wider as it dropped closer.
Hasn't noticed me yet. Good. He checked his pockets silently. I wasn't loaded enough for this trip. He looked at the shells he brought: low yield pellets. These would only piss it off. He thought. He squinted to watch the shadow circle again, the screech getting louder as it tried to size up victims below. Thankfully that wasn't enough to panic him after as many as he had to deal with.
Just leave. Nothing here to interest you. He thought to himself. Old ruins, nice and quiet. The shadow circled a third time, getting smaller now as it flew upward. He let out a small sigh.
"I ain't messing around no more!" Babs yelled from her makeshift prison.
"Shit." He narrowed his eyes.
A half second later, the sounds of metal and wood giving way to brute force were amplified by the parking lot around them. As Babs grunted from her effort, she rolled from the storage room and growled. "I told ya, I was through messing-"
Her bravado faded as the light around her faded, the Scorchbeast calling out in its distinct high frequency as it spotted her.
Cocking his shotgun, Mal fired a shot into the air, startling Babs and taking the attention off her. He felt the heat of the sonic scream the beast threw down narrowly missing him, vibrating a large section of wall into dust behind him. Moving to find new cover, he fired at the beast wildly, his range ineffective but the pellets were good to distract it. "Get the hell out of here!" Mal hollered at Babs, cocking another shell into his chamber.
Babs didn't have to be told twice, nearly tripping over her own feet as she doubled back towards the gas station.
Mal fired again, this time the chamber jammed as it tried to eject its shell. He cursed and slung it, pulling his holstered pistol. Diving into an archway on the second floor, another series of sonic vibrations destroyed another wall, white smoke and debris cast in its place.
He heard it begin to circle around, having lost him in the smoke. He turned his pistol to semi auto with a click of the metal switch above the trigger. A small LED further down the body indicated his ammo count was below twenty-five rounds. Mal checked over the shotgun, pulling the slide and trying to unjam the mechanism in the precious seconds he had. Little progress was made as he heard the deep whomping of the beasts wings grow louder.
Another wall disintegrated to his right as the roof groaned from the new stress. He eyed the way he came in, dashing forward as struts and boards snapped above him. Barreling out of the area like a bullet shot from a rifle, the room he was in exploded with debris as the top collapsed. Landing hard on the concrete floor below, he groaned and rolled the fastest he could out of clear view.
As he caught the wind knocked out of him, he heard the wings suddenly stop flapping. A moment later the ground rumbled as the beast dropped to its legs and began to stalk the ex UPO, his hiding place not too convincing. Feeling around, he realized he had dropped his HAMMER on the way down, resorting to his jammed shotgun. Still unable to clear the breach, he threw the gun at the beast, hitting it in the wing and sending the shotgun clattering behind the two.
He saw the shell eject as it struck the ground behind them.
"Figures." He sighed softly, pulling out a combat knife in a hopeless attempt to preserve some dignity in his death.
The creature jerked its head to the side as a harpoon landed in its neck, making it wail a moment before stumbling a step. Mal scanned the ground for the source of the object, his eyes focusing on the scantily clad Babs, herself reloading a large handheld harpoon gun by the gas station. "Try to take my shit will ya?" she growled as the next load locked into the chamber.
Mal stood up and dodged a wild swing from the beast, leaping to the left as he ran up the staircase he first was on. A meaty thud sounded as Babs landed another harpoon in the Scorchbeast’s back, her reward another deathly howl as it turned it's full attention towards her now. Unleashing a rapid fire of sonic screams at her location, it began to discharge a green mist around itself at the same time.
Coming to a crouched position by the last device he had been working on, he fumbled with the final connection, linking the device. He heard a static comm unit crackle to life.
"General. All systems...are back. But overhead reconnaissance...shows a large...Scorchbeast may be heading your way." MODUS spoke calmly, another discharge of wails sounding near Mal.
"No shit! Thanks for the heads up!" Mal barked at the unit, his Pipboy starting to link with its frequency. "I could use a care package or a firestorm or something. I'm under equipped because YOU told me I shouldn't expect one."
"Standby. Charging the satellite will…take a moment. I will signal you to...clear the area when...orbital bombardment...begins." MODUS dryly responded. "Until then…try...to keep your head on." He chuckled before ending the call.
Mal sneered at his Pipboy, only to notice in the distance of his line of sight was his pistol, laying a mere ten meters below him. He hurled himself over the crumbling handrails and landed with haste, grabbing the pistol and checking the charge quickly.
Babs had the beast staggering again, four large harpoons in its body. The mutant bat wailed again, a massive flap from its wings sending more of its mutating spores to the area around it. Hissing and roaring came from the woods around them, scorched humanoids and several large dogs began to converge on the call it made.
Mal quickly ran under the beast, collecting his shotgun as he did. Tossing it to the girl, they both took aim at the vulnerable spot the Scorchbeast had: it's small head.
Both of the weapons opened the head of the beast up as the two survivors unloaded their shots. Between the bullets from Mal’s pistol and the close range of the pellets in his shotgun caused the creature to stagger back two then three steps. Both weapons ran dry, Babs pulling a spear from her back holster as Mal pulled a combat knife.
The Scorchbeast cried a final death whine as it collapsed onto a shell of a car in the parking lot, dead from the massive trauma. The victory was short lived as both of them realized they were outnumbered twenty to one.
A large mob of scorched, some armed with rifles and pistols and some feral and snarling, closed in on them.
"This is not how I planned to spend the evening." Mal said offhandedly, bumping backs with Babs.
"Yeah, well, I hada' better night in mind too. This wouldna' happened if ya' hadna' tried to take mah stash!" she replied, spear ready in front of her.
"I wasn't trying to steal anything, lady. I told you I was here to fix-" Mal raised an eyebrow as his Pipboy chirped at him. "Incoming!"
Babs had no time to respond as Mal grabbed her by the harness straps in the front and drug her through the back of the gas station. Kicking the door open he dove with her behind several rocks that were just out of range of the blast zone.
The ground shook as the sky fell on the area around them. Massive bombardment of the creatures with three distinct shells hitting and rocking the area. Sounds of burning critters and wailing monsters faded soon after the third strike.
Buried under a modest pile of rubble, Mal grumbled as he pushed what he could off his back, gravel and rocks clattering about as he coughed. Spurts of dust and powdered concrete escaped his lungs as he pushed a massive chunk away from him, revealing the bruised girl he had brought with him. Leaning an ear down to her chest, he listened as best he could in the mayhem. Picking up a faint heartbeat finally, he slapped her cheek a few times. "Hey. Hey come on snap out of it." He dug more of himself out as he tried to wake her up, getting a soft groaning from her as an answer. "Come on lady, we don't have time to stick around."
Taking a large lungful of air, she coughed out several shards of rock, the last wave of coughing opening her eyes wider than normal. Sitting up, she looked around the remains of the gas station in awe, her vision scanning to the visitors center which was still in mid collapse. She came back to stare at him in disbelief. "What the fuck was that?!" she finally asked as she tried to stand.
Mal laughed out of habit, standing up easier as he dusted his uniform off. "That, miss, was a three point ballistic missile strike from a satellite in geosynchronous orbit above good ol' Appalachia." He offered her a gloved hand. "It saved our asses too I might add."
"Ya…" she paused, the slack jawed buggy eyed expression taking over her face as she stared across the rubble. Arms raised high for a moment she threw them forward as she turned her head to him. "Ya blew up mah fuckin home! My stash! My weapons!"
Mal paused, dusting himself off still, and stared back wide eyed at her, looking over the crumbling building. His expression mimicked her own for a brief moment, followed by him clearing his throat. "Well I mean, I didn’t do it." He began to explain. "I mean if you-"
"The fuck you didn't! You and your damn sly laser bomb dropping pals completely destroyed everything I collected over the years!" her expression soured. "You're gunna pay me back, bright eyes!" she pointed a finger at his purple hued irises.
Mal stared back at her as he slowly collected his pack and turned his Pipboy light on, blinding her a brief moment as he typed a few commands. Staring back as he let his arm drop, the distant whistling above them caught her attention first.
Both craned their heads up, watching a distant object become larger as it accelerated towards them. The flames behind it bled off as it slowed to a landing, a sequence of braking thrusters on the bottom slowing it enough for it to survive impact.
"Don't get your pants in a knot, this one won't hit us, girl." He noticed her about to flee, despite her gaze locked on the object. He stole a glance over her slim body and her outfits shorts. "Course you would need pants to begin with I suppose."
The girl turned, her hands covering her behind a moment out of instinct. The look of a scowl barely registered as she quickly changed demeanor, aggression taking over. "What the hell is that supposed ta' mean? You some sorta pervert?" she crossed her arms over her chest, raising an eyebrow. "And its 'Babs' not girl, boy."
"Boy? You must be mistaken. I'm a man." He raised an eyebrow back at her, offended seemingly by her brashness. "Mal, specifically is my name." He changed his focus as the item impacted, throwing up dust and gravel, a dull thud of earth being hit echoing in their ears. "As far as compensation, let me remind you, you started attacking me first." He added, walking towards the supply drop.
Stepping over several rocks and through a bit of brush, Mal knelt down to the coffin sized capsule. It bore the emblem of an organization he had come to know well over the past year: The Enclave. Carbon scoring and a bit of dust brushed off easily as he took off his glove, putting his hand to the emblem itself. A series of buzzing and beeping followed with a scan of his handprint. The green light that followed quickly switched to yellow and then red, making him frown.
"Error. Payload inaccessible while hostiles present." A monotone computer recited to him.
"Must be reading you." Mal said, Babs standing to the left of his vision. "Why don't you go that way several hundred feet?"
Babs crossed her arms again. "I ain't going no wheres till you pony up some supplies and weapons for those you broke!" she answered, "besides if I left you alone out here you'd be a sitting duck to all sorts of crap and I'd never get anything back."
"Lady, what the hell do you suppose is left out here to give us trouble after I blew this place to bits?" he sighed as he turned to her.
A shotgun and several small pistol rounds hit him in the back as he saw her try to say something. Falling forward from the impact, he felt the wind go out of him as Babs tumbled behind a pile of brush.
"Funny ya should mention that." She responded, ducking further as more shots rang out.
Turning to the source, Mal winced in pain, able to focus his vision on a pack of scorched, what used to be humans. Each had crystals starting to grow out of parts of their body, some more than others. The green glow of the growths made them easier to see against the dark pavement as they grew closer. Though not entirely feral they were for all intents and purposes zombies that could wield basic weapons. Their usual silence made them that much harder to detect. Usually.
I was too busy with her to hear them. He thought, feeling for his sidearm, his shotgun still slung on his back. Ain't using it, I can barely breathe.
As he turned towards them more, a single round fired from his HAMMER pistol, wide and off target. The effort hurt him more as he growled at the new pain of another round hitting him in the shoulder. Another surge of adrenaline hit him, letting the old world civil servant fire wildly, hitting one of the closest in its leg, taking splinters of green lattice with it.
Vision blurring, he desperately aimed at the targets, unable to get a steady hold, he fell backwards. Not hitting ground, he realized Babs had begun to pull him back to her rocky and brush thick cover. Bullets sounded as they whizzed past his ear, hitting pavement in the distance.
"Ya suppose they were this shitty a shot before they were brain dead?" she asked as she pulled his shotgun free of him, cocking it and laying the closest one down for the count, a well timed shot to its neck. "Hey this thing pulls to the right."
Mal coughed up a storm before eyeing the girl up. Noticing she had a good grip on the weapon, he quickly realized she wasn't robbing him but helping him. Opening a pouch on his left side, he pulled out a diluted stimpak, stabbing it directly into his shoulder. The focused injection went to work knitting his bones back quicker than one would expect. Thank goodness for radiation. He thought as his newly given gifts from his time at the alpha site took over and healed him quickly. He growled and cursed as he stabbed another one into his chest, just missing his heart. "Dammit!"
"Hey whoa-whoa." Babs glanced down at his efforts, another small round whizzing past her head as she ducked in time. "You wasting those or trying to die?" she scorned him, the footfalls of the scorched getting closer.
"Just keep them busy!" he groaned back at her, the last one in his hand hitting his heart as he plunged it in. Healing serum began to course through his circulatory system almost instantly, mending internal bleeding and tears from the rounds.
Two more dropped from Babs shotgun spray, then a final thud inches to their right as the last one fell from its wounds. The young girl's breathing was fierce and fast still as she checked the chamber. "Huh. Last round too."
The last one snarled and lunged up, hands going for her throat.
A single shot came from Mal's pistol, right through its head stopping it cold.
"Shell." Mal uttered finally, looking at the bewildered Babs as she threw the dead creature off her.
"What?" she asked, standing up and dusting herself off.
"Pistols have rounds." He smiled, grunting and standing up with a bit of effort. Taking to his knee, he panted and looked back up at her. "Shotguns use shells."
Babs blinked back at him, unsure of how to respond. Finally her expression changed to a more familiar annoyed one. "Look, whatever Mel, I just want repayment."
He laughed. "Mal." He stood up. "You handle yourself better than I'd assume, Babs." He added. "I assumed you were more hand to hand."
"I'm more of a jack of all trades." She replied, walking with him as they inched back to the capsule.
Mal popped the capsule open and replaced his glove. The smoke from inside cleared quickly, the light on his Pipboy giving view to its contents. Quickly looking over the contents, he sighed in frustration. Inside was not the usual fair of shells, stimpaks or spare parts. From wall to wall was twenty five year old, white cellophane wrapped rolls of 2-ply toilet paper.
"Y'know you got a funny idea of what 'emergency supplies' means, Mal." She patted his shoulder as she peered in. "Paper?"
Running a hand over his forehead, he shook his head softly. "Whomever packed this one apparently thought toilet paper was a vital element." He shut the pod angrily. "What kind of 'stable genius' would do that I can't even begin to tell you."
"Well that's not gunna cut it for repayment pally." Babs added, crossing her arms. "Did you say 'toilet' paper? Never actually seen this stuff." she asked with a tilt of her head.
"Let's not go there right now." Mal shook his head. "Alright. Well since I'm pretty sure you aren't leaving until you get some sorta payment and I sure as hell ain't staying out past sunrise, let's go." He holstered his pistol with a final word. "Besides you're the first real person I've met out here for a while. I could use a companion."
"Whoa now." She stood up, hands out towards him. "I ain't sure I like that implication. Just what are you expecting from me and where are we headin'?"
***
"White Springs Report?" Babs asked, squinting as she read the aged and weathered sign.
"Resort." Mal corrected her while stepping under a tollbooth arm.
"Whateva'," she scoffed, leaping over the arm, her feet kicking up some gravel, hopping as she hit a rather pointed rock.
"Why are you running around barefoot anyway?” Mal asked, turning to see her regain her footing. His own boots dug into the gravel with a crunch as he turned, the dust he kicked up blowing fiercely. A glance up to the sky and then the still manicured shrubs and he looked back at her. “We better get inside. Storms coming.”
“Well I did have a decent pair until I LOST EVERYTHING TO SOME JERKWAD and his…sky missile...things.” Babs answered, stumbling again as much on her words as the ground. Happy to find the semi smooth cement, she focused on a pair of huge double doors in front of her. Looking up and to the trees, she looked back at the doors, and the overall gradness of the loading dock doors in front of them. “Huh. We going in there? Ain’t much in there ‘sides a storeroom and a big ass door that's locked. I tried a while back.”
“No doubt you did.” Mal responded, reaching for the doors. He cracked them open enough to slip through, beckoning her to follow. The wind picking up debris around the outside of the entrance, a distant thunder clap following.
“What you got, a trick past that door, Mr. Magic?” she asked, kicking free from the odd debris that wrapped around her ankle. She slipped through, her breasts and hips clearing easily but the buckles on her entire harness clattered against the door at the rivets. “You couldn’t have made it bigga?”
“Bigger isn’t always better.” He responded, poking about in the storage room for a moment before approaching the reinforced door at the end of the room.
“Someone’s been lying to ya then.” She snickered, a huff coming from her as she shoved the doors closed, a metallic clang echoing in the small room as she turned to see her traveling companion pulling a small card out of his chest pocket. A slide across the magnetic reader was all the door took to unlock, three large metal clanks sounding at once.
Hinges creaked softly, showing signs of lubrication and maintenance. He turned to Babs with a confident smile, his split irises seen more clearly now from the overhead lighting. Wincing at the mistake of standing in the direct light, he motioned to her to follow. “Come on, the storm’s a bastard and I’m not sitting in a storeroom.”
Babs showed an expression of fear for once, her usual bravado gone as she stared into the black abyss beyond the door. A series of laser grided security every ten feet was all she saw, each starting to deactivate in sequence from afar. The final set switched off, making her take a step back, her foot catching on a gas can on the floor. The clatter it made startled her, as did the sequence of overhead lights in the new hallway coming on. “Hey what the fuck is wrong with your eyes?”
“Long story. You want in or you want to sleep in the shed?” he extended his gloved hand, the brown leather stretching a bit. The gaze he gave her was one of indifference, but still grew almost desperate for her to come along.
“Alright, but no funny business, we get different bed rolls.” She finally said, knocking his hand away and walking next to him. “Lead the way, Mr. Bright eyes.”
Mal laughed a bit at her and shook his head, moving to lead the way down the dark hallway. The ramp they walked down appeared to be the smaller part of a loading dock, the shelves all along the way filled with the same type of canisters, only in different sizes and colors. On the side of each bore the name “Department of War” or “Enclave”, and each cluster of them on shelves were shown to be more empty then the last shelves as they ventured down into the darkness.
The end of the hallway gave way to a larger atrium, dark save for a few utility lights on railings. A collection of half raided supplies strewn about became apparent as more lights popped on the closer to the center they seemed to get. Finally, Babs saw what she had seen only once before in her life: a vault door.
“Huh. You a vault dweller?” she asked, the lights and klaxon lighting up as they approached the catwalks leading to the giant gear shaped door. No lettering or number was etched on, merely simple metal that had dulled over time.
“What do you know about vaults?” Mal asked as he walked up to a large ominous button mounted on a metal pedestal. Turning as she didn’t answer, he waited a moment as she collected her thoughts.
“Mom said you were all a buncha selfish bastards who didn’t want to share your food and shelter. So you locked yourself down in the ground.” Babs cocked an eyebrow at him, crossing her arms again with a look of apathy. “I could care less but it seems the way you look, she might have been right. Too bad she’s dead or I’d tell her.”
Pressing the button down with a forceful slam from his palm, the klaxon changed to a rotating yellow as a collection of gears and hydraulics began to sound at once. Walking up the catwalk, he motioned for her to come with him. “You’re wrong and right at the same time.”
“Don’t get me wrong, I want decent payment for my losses still.” She followed him. The screech of metal on metal sounded as the door pulled into the bunker, the massive weight apparent in it’s tone. As it rolled out of sight, a path and walkway extended from inside, clattering to the catwalk outside.
Venturing inside, Babs took in the reception area, the sound of automated guns training on her from the ceiling made her stop however. Glancing forward, she saw several military grade Assaultrons powering up their onboard lasers, the crimson threat in their head unit whining to life. She instinctively put her hands up, her eyes wide in shock for a moment as she glanced back to Mal. “Hey! What is this? Some sorta double cross?”
"A precaution...I assure you...ah. General." The offset tone of MODUS came across several speakers. Each was mounted on a height wall and protected by patchwork covers. "I see you…found...some company. High radiation exposure…no apparent...mutations...or shoes."
"Whose that!?" Babs widened her eyes, staring around the room and focusing on the speakers. "You said you were the only one here!"
"I am the only LIVING person here." Mal emphasized as she hit the coupler ignition switch on the inside of the room. The klaxon and lights sounding as the door locked back into place with a loud sequence. "That's MODUS. He's the last relic of a long dead faction that ran this place."
"A pleasure to meet…a new non-psychotic living breathing...human...miss...?" MODUS paused. The sounds of robots patrolling grew closer, two assaultrons now joined by a pair of protections dressed as butlers.
"Name’s Babs." She answered back, her head craned towards the speaker closest to her. Giving it a look over, her hands slowly began to drop as curiosity overtook her fear.
"Alright. Here’s the moment of truth." Mal interrupted. "Babs, you have a clear survival instinct, otherwise your skinny ass would have been dead or a scorched by now." The subtle and slow pacing of his boots on the metal lattice kept pace with his words.
Babs turned her head back, keeping an eye on him carefully. "I get along well enough. What's your point?" she asked with hesitation creeping into her tone.
"My point is, the few people I've run into that have made it, turned quick on me despite my attempts at being civil. You get bonus points because I may have had something to do with blowing up your home." He raised a hand before she could counter the statement. "Which is why I felt, partially, I should ask you this next part." Coming near face-to-face with her, he looked down just slightly as his height was above her by an inch or three. "I could use some help out there, would you be interested in teaming up on a more consistent basis?"
"Teaming up eh?" she had turned completely around by this point, staring up with a sly grin coming over her face, her freckles shifting as her cheeks curled. "Would we be splitting the loot down the middle?"
"Oh absolutely. Though we wouldn't be raiding as much for 'loot' as you may think." He added, taking a smoke out of his right arm pouch and popping it in his mouth. "But if you take a look around, I assure you there are many benefits to being friends with me." He fumbled in his right side pants pocket as he spoke.
Babs had been keeping an eye on her surroundings, noticing the lasers trained on her had shifted to a standard patrol sequence. She had taken consideration that the door was closed now and how completely clean the rooms she had glanced at were. Plenty of salvage in here alone if things go south. She thought to herself. Besides, it ain't like I couldnt use someone that wasn’t trying to rob or rape me around for once. A quirked eyebrow began to drop into her confident expression. She reached down to his hand, keeping a firm eye to eye connection to him. Green eyes locked to his purple tinted ones as she took the lighter in his hand, clicking it open and flicking a flame for him. Lighting his smoke, she slammed the top shut with a sharp metal clank.
"Sounds like a deal." She handed him the lighter back, a serious stare still present as a finger pointed to him now. "But you try to fuck me…" she shook her finger. "In ANYWAY I dislike? It won't end pretty, robots or not. Got it?"
Mal smiled at her. "Absolutely crystal clear, Babs." He blew a circle of smoke up into the air.
"If negotiations...are over." MODUS chirped in from behind them. "...Miss Babs will need to follow intake protocol…would you like to do the …honors...General?"
"And what's with him callin' ya General? I thought your name was Mal?" she broke her expression to one of confusion. "And what's an intake?"
Mal laughed a bit, nodding. "All very good questions." He gestured with his hand to turn around. "Head this way and take a right. We need to explain past the basics and get you a meal." He added. "I assume you're hungry?"
"You kiddin'?" she adjusted her straps and walked next to him heading towards a door marked 'Intake and Orientation', the pistons silently opening it into the ceiling. "I ain't had anything to eat in days. I was on my way to get something to eat when you barged in."