Babs approves of any situation in which there are unguarded valuables, that's not really a hard approval to get.
Gotta admit I'm curious about Springfield, but for the sake of your brain bits working, I suggest Gravestone. Perhaps you can go back later and do Springfield and any other missed missions as "lost logs" or something, with any and all cheating methods available to you to make it quick and easy.
Wasn't Springfield a bonus or pre-order mission or something? I remember there being issues with missing textures and such, but they're probably easily available now.
GNU Terry Pratchett
PSN: Wstfgl | GamerTag: An Evil Plan | Battle.net: FallenIdle#1970
Hit me up on BoardGameArena! User: Loaded D1
Maybe he accidentally ended the LP with a stray bullet to the nuke.
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
Computer's been in the shop for the past week and this mission is more trouble than expected. Don't worry, update should be ready by the weekend. Hopefully.
Computer's been in the shop for the past week and this mission is more trouble than expected. Don't worry, update should be ready by the weekend. Hopefully.
In the "Shop"?
Haven't brought a computer in to get fixed since the early 90's with my 486.
chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which questions of logistics come up.
From the journals of Nina "Farsight" Stills.
So. Gravestone.
Officially, this is another diplomatic mission that we stumbled into on long range patrol.
Which is why Rage and Ice are coming along. I mean, nothing says "diplomacy" like "I will shit down your neck". Honestly, if this wasn't gunboat diplomacy at best, I'd be back at the bunker. Not exactly a people person.
Well, we were going, and Babs and Milo would be good at talking to ghouls in exchange for their atomic bomb. Rad-x should keep us alive and not-vomiting until we secure the area.
The trip down has been... messy.
Few holdout beastlords tried to attack us. Not a good idea when the hummer is full of SAWs and ammo.
The mutant ambush was more of an issue. Eight or nine of them before we got to Gravestone. We'd all kind of hoped to beat them to the site. So much for that.
Fortunately, Rage and Ice are good with heavy weapons.
And I'm the best sniper in the whole damn brotherhood of steel. Took out a mutant with fucking Ma Deuce before he blew us all to hell.
So, all going well, for a given very low standard of well.
Then Rage speaks up.
"Look at this shit. Fucking asshole was charging a fucking gun emplacement with a fucking piece of lead pipe."
"Mutants are stupid?"
"They're fucking retards, yeah, but not enough to pull this shit. I thought you said they had a fucking manufacturing plant. Guess they're building fucking mutant dildos if this crap is on the frontlines."
"Well, shucks, Wolcott. Not e'rybody can be a logistics wizard like Milo. Ah reckon they just..."
"Then somebody else is ramming them up the ass if they can't get their heads out of their asses for a fucking Nuke. Shit, not all of them are fucktarded."
I hate to agree with Rage, but... I agree with Rage. Something is off.
chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which Shaav is a good son.
Hello Momma!
Shaav is writing letter home because Shaav good boy, not like dumb shriek. Shaav ask Broodmother Farsight for help writing letter and spelling but Broodmother Farsight say "No! Drink!" so Shaav ask squadleader Milo for help and he said he help with spelling and tricky bits if Shaav let him put advertising in same envelope.
Shaav think this good deal. (Means free poop-paper. No tell squadleader.)
So. Shaav adventure. Shaav doing fine in Magpie squad. Shaav drive truk truck good, get food, help fix people.
Yesterday Shaav go for long drive. Say secret, but give map. We kill lot of big green people.
Find town of little drippy people, like Babs. (Babs is drippy steelperson, Krldaav. She nice, always have treat.)
Shaav do, because mama say to help and Broodmother Farsight give Shaav books and pies, and Milo give Shaav help with things and more stuff and lets Shaav eat things Shaav finds.
Shaav chaperone there, Broodmother Farsight said later. Just another thing Shaav good at.
So, we go and there are lots and lots and lots of big stinky drippy men.
Rage (Bald shinysteel person) says "Fuck!" and a lot of other noises, and he and Ice (Silent shinysteelperson, Krldaav) set up loud shootyguns. Shaav get out grenades.
Small drippy men make noises too. Smells too. Shaav not like smells.
The big drippypersons keep running, Rage make ratatatata and Ice go Boom Boom! Shaav help too.
Shaav remember now. Big people moo-tants. (Mutants) Mutants! One try to punch Shaav. Mutants dumb, but taste good.
Rage say fuck a lot. Also lots of other words. Shaav ask what they mean, then ask broodmother Farsight later. Made list!
Shit: Poop! Broodmother says poop too.
Crap: Also poop!
God: Rage say "Old fuck in sky or some shit." Farsight talk about triune and mon-o-theism and Arian hear say and Shaav's head hurt a lot. All Shaav remember is God is nice and tastes good.
Fuck: Lots of things. Farsight just say "Fuck" over and over when Shaav start asking questions. Squadleader says it means Shaav is a good Deathclaw and everyone likes him!
Broodmother Farsight was up on wall. Mutants run at her.
Mutants dumb. Shaav not smart like Mama or Broodmother Farsight or Babs or Milo or Stitch (One eye steelperson) but Shaav know Broodmother Farsight well enough to not stay away when she can see you.
But it not help Shaav. All the small drippy people dead, and more Mutants coming. Rage bleeding, Shaav help, run away and throw grenades.
Shaav throw more grenades, help patch up more.
Deathclaws can't use toolkits or medkits directly, but they can use the relevant skill when they're holding the item. Useful.
Squadleader hurt too, him and drippyskins (Ghouls, Shaav.) Ghouls all running and shooting. Guns go clik clik clik and more screaming and
Mutants all dead! Shaav help. Try to catch breath. Everyone else go out, make sure.
Broodmother Farsight shoots more mutants in eyeballs, bang bang!
We find more dead ghouls. Farsight say Shaav a good Deathclaw a lot.
Rage shoot last few Mutants too. Crack in wall. Rage smart.
Ice uses shooty gun, hurts lots of mutants. They explode. Mama say it kill lots of Deathclaws, and be careful! Shaav listen, not get hurt. Mutants dumb.
Broodmother find pew-pew laser. Don't know how to use. Bringing it back.
Mutant throw grenade at broodmother. Shaav worry. It okay, she not hurt, kill mutant bangbangbang.
Rage kill more mutants all together.
Little trick in turn based? When enemies reaction fire, the action plays in real time, but you can still move. Longer bursts and rockets can be ducked if you still have TUs and time it right. Saved my ass in the three mutant close range cluster
Mutants charge. Farsight shove gun in mouth, head explode.
Farsight and Rage grab new boomsticks off ground. Ice says guns Fun-fall and Jackhammer. Ice not talk much not about guns.
Lots of ghouls dead. We go see ghoul leader. Broodmother Farsight says Shaav good Deathclaw more.
Ghoul sad.
Milo talk, then Broodmother Farsight yell a little at Milo. Get shovels.
Broodmother Farsight yell at Rage next and we dig holes. Shaav not get to eat Ghouls, shove them in holes.
We walk away.
Farsight, Milo, and Babs are sad. Rage is not. Says "No offense" a lot to Babs.
My blackened, twisted heart grew three sizes this day.
[REDACTED]
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which Deatchclaw concerns are addressed.
From the journals of Nina "Farsight" Stills.
Well, I was wrong about Shaav. Seems this whole thing isn't a long game to eat all our entrails or some kind of unholy evil. Just another way to die in the wasteland.
No shortage of those. But some people... well, it's a miracle they lasted as long as they did.
So, we're driving back, avoiding any retreating mutant patrols.
"I don't like it. It was too fucking easy."
"Rage, we nearly got killed, half the population of Gravestone is in shallow graves. I hate to think what hard would be."
"They were only fucking ghouls. Not like people died. No offense. But come fucking on. How it could be harder? Not carrying fucking pipes? Even the fucking flipper baby raiders we ran into a couple months back had fucking grenades. Same shit as last time."
"Shaav have to puke."
"And the fucking wave charge shit. Fuckers back in St. Louis knew better."
Ice spoke up then.
"Disciplined. Good dispersal. Not like this."
"We didn't hit them that fucking hard."
"Shaav really have to puke. Mutant disagree with Shaav."
"Shucks. Poor critter. Y'all better pull over."
"Broodmother say Shaav can pull over?"
"Fine. Go left, mutants seem to be staying away from this canyon."
And we stopped. Shaav was retching into a hole when we saw a civvie.
And a huge cage.
Milo went to talk to her. Shaav followed, wiping his mouth a little.
"Yes. Well. I can't say I entirely..."
"This bad idea."
"Nonsense! You have a Deathclaw companion animal! You see how the poor creatures are mistreated."
"It's more..."
"Shaav not mistreated! Shaav get to drive car."
He scratched his head a little then.
"Do have to poop outside. But not mistreated. Deathclaw lock-up for reasons. Shriek go in box all the time, Shaav never go in box."
Then the idiot ran off and opened the door.
"Shaav say it bad idea!"
Milo looked at all of us then.
"Hummer. Now. Shaav? Floor it."
Dad said God protects fools, children, and the United States of America. But he also added a corollary then.
"Infinite patience only goes so far, Nina. Let the wasteland be a lesson and when an idiot starts testing the limits of that protection, head for the hills."
We drove away frantically firing out the windows, and it more or less worked. We got back in one piece, anyway.
And met with a lunatic cultist.
"We have... reconsidered access to the launch codes. You did the best you could. "
"Fucking A!"
"And you gave the departed passage to the sacred underground testing."
"Weren't nothing."
Well, we might need the firepower. Can't go complaining too much. Might want a debate later, but I'm too tired today.
Babs talked to me in quarters about it after.
"Nuttier than a whole season of Christmas fruitcakes. No wonder folks are so biased against Ghouls. Probably wondering if we're all going to give them pamphlets. Then again, takes all kinds ah reckon."
"You stole the launch codes, didn't you?"
"Well, if he was going to go 'round carrin' copies..."
Well, we're probably going out again soon, and since the leak still isn't pinned, the official mission's going to be unknown until we're on our way.
I think that the Deathclaws were the real humanitarians there.
I'm not talking about humanitarianism.
[REDACTED]
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which Magpie Squad moves on up.
From the journals of Knight Commander John Milo of the Brotherhood of Steel
I totaled up the Syndicate's resources today, only counting liquid assets. Over 300,000 in scrip. As unfortunate as the incidents with the supermutants may be from the prospective of the Brotherhood as a whole, and for me on a personal level, professionally they've been a godsend. I'll be almost sorry to see them go.
We finished another mission, applying more pressure while the mutants were reeling from Gravestone. Jefferson, the supposed location of a supermutant weapons development plant. Or, apparently, super mutant dildo factory "or some other stupid shit" according to Rage.
The man had a good argument. If the mutants could make their own weapons, they would be considerably less likely to charge mounted guns with pipes and broken beer bottles.
Ah well. Seldom a profitable move to question orders in public.
We arrived under the cover of darkness at the extraction point for the surviving intelligence officers. The bloodstains were not particularly promising.
The scout car they left behind, however, was an asset. Full tank of alcohol, superficial damage. Not enough room for the entire squad, but it provided an excellent mobile machine gun nest..
Unfortunately, Rage didn't see things the same way.
"Shit, it's bad enough to ride in a fucking hummer with Shaav driving, but that rickety piece of crap, through hostile rocket fire..."
"Shaav good driver! Get discount on insurance!"
Which was a fair point. Admittedly, I'd told him not to mention the insurance to anyone else (these things get... complicated when brass gets involved) but I had lowered the rates considerably since I made the first offer.
Statistically, riding in a vehicle driven by Shaav is the safest you can be outside a vault.
"Broodmother Farsight ride with Shaav?"
Stills just sighed and stepped into the back, sticking her sniper rifle out a window.
They returned in record time. I said riding with Shaav was safe. I didn't say it felt safe.
"Lot of mutants. Less now, but still too many. We need another route. "
I'll admit, Farsight has been on the pessimistic side from time to time.
"Would you define too many, Farsight?"
"I don't know. They didn't set up a fucking census, sir. Multiple squad automatic weapons, rockets, grenades. Bare minimum, we need sniper positions. Ideally, we'd get another nuclear bomb."
I went with the first option. More cost efficient.
Farsight took point and found several Bouncing Betties. The mutants actually bothered with security, which meant they had something worth securing or negotiating for. Good news, assuming we didn't die.
We drove the scouter in and loaded it up with 50 cal. Farsight, Rage, and Ice went ahead.
Apparently, they ran into issues.
Of several varieties.
The main point, as far as we could find after, was that Rage "Really want a fucking Jackhammer. I mean, FUCK!"
Also, Initiate Harris did a good job recently adjusting the scope on Initiate Harris's sniper rifle, which Initiate Wolcott took as a double entendre despite the best efforts of all concerned.
I doubt my ribs will recover any time soon.
We encountered more mutants on regrouping. Initiate Stills took point, several excellent shots, and a minigun round to the leg, in that order.
Multiple fractures, if I'm any judge. I attempted to render assistance, but...
Well, Shaav is a better medic than I am, it turns out, and he's no good at healing a broken leg. Stills had a splint, at least, but she'd need care at base.
So, we split. She'd stay with Shaav guarding our backs, Babs and I would provide sniper support, Rage and Ice breach. Simple.
The armor was a good investment. Lowers risk. Farsight, meanwhile, stuck with her Ranger gear, and nearly got her log shot off. Sentimentality can be a risky business, I suppose.
Rage and Ice neutralized multiple hostiles in the trainyard. Enough for a quick drive to the first generator and back, where Rage could keep the mutants occupied while Shaav handled the situation with explosives.
Of course, there was still resistance.
And the scouter needed repairs by the end, making Rage swear at me and wonder how I talked him into the ride. (I still haven't quite worked it out myself, but it may have involved blackmail or death threats.) He did have a point. Any other mechanic would have written the scouter off, most other pilots would have been killed trying to drive it by the end, and Babs was mostly using Nuka bottles and shell casings for the fix by the end. Still, she managed to fix it.
Job well done, when Stills came back, walking like a ghost among the living and the born free, limping with her sniper rifle as a cane.
"Leg still works better than I thought, and I can't trust you without adult supervision."
"I'm sure some would take offense at that."
"Rage is a psycho, Ice isn't going to notice, Babs will help in whatever you're planning for a share, and Shaav is Shaav."
Well, it was true. I'm just surprised it took her that long to notice.
"Scouter then. Back seat, same as earlier, since walking on that leg is something of a bad idea."
If it had just been more mutants, we'd have been fine. Unfortunately, there were... complications.
Turrets. Military grade. I didn't expect this sort of thing. They could shrug off buckshot or 7.62, and grenades meant getting close. A losing proposition. Oh, and their sensor grids could pinpoint a moving target from the pulse at a nice range.
Shaav walked right past.
Threw a grenade, totalled the generator, and walked back. The turrets didn't notice until he was out of range.
"Shaav did good."
I suppose he did.
It was routine for a bit after.
Overwhelming odds. Impossible chokepoints.
Heavily armed mutants getting their heads blown off. If anything went wrong, we'd all die, but it didn't and we didn't. Boring to write about.
And then we saw the only route into the factory, and things became non-routine for a bit.
A radioactive sewer. And we were... low on Rad-X.
(Beastlords and raiders were paying well in the internment camps, urgent need, I'm a soft touch.)
Fortunately, Ice had found some EV protection suits. Unfortunately, it was a cramped one man crawl into a high risk scenario.
I was squad leader. Still am. And that means responsibility alongside privilege.
I grabbed the last pill and dove in. It only made sense. I have a long history with underground enclosed spaces, less radiation exposure and better preventive measures than anyone else, and again, squad leader.
I heard swearing and explosions above, but it's best to ignore these things. When you can't do anything, you can safely ignore a lot.
Large facility there. Good equipment. Bad smell.
Probably from the mutants. Most just cowered in the back, and I can't say murdering civilians has ever appealed to me, human or not. I stepped outside and stared at a mounted gun emplacement.
The cavalry arrived in the nick of time. The noise of initiate Oliver cutting through a mutant torso distracted them for long enough to duck back.
And firing from behind a reinforced steel door bought me enough time to neutralize the enemy before they could kill me.
The rest was... sad, I suppose. Wouldn't say it to anyone else, it hurts morale, but there you are.
Just Mutants angrily charging our line of fire and dying like flies.
Generators exploding.
Angry rants and hints Rage was right. Someone else was, ahem, "fucking over" the Mutant armies.
What a waste.
I decided to take the last generator alone. Carefully. Who knows? I might not have had to kill anyone.
But no. Common sense prevailed. I'd nearly been killed last time I went off alone, and I still wasn't entirely trusted. I'd need witnesses to keep up what reputation I'd earned. Farsight followed while everyone else prepared our getaway.
It was the second most horrible thing I'd seen in my life. Abominations, constant agony, so on and so forth.
And a terrified looking Mutant scientist.
He was pleading, not for his life, but for the research.
Farsight already had the bolt back.
"You sick son of a bitch."
I held my hand up.
"These were volunteers?"
He nodded.
"Right. Now, you are familiar with the Brotherhood of Steel?"
Another nod.
And I match Rychek, one of the nastiest drill sergeants I've met, for volume.
"NO, MAGGOT, YOU DO NOT!"
Farsight just stared. Always fun to surprise people.
"You know we are BRUTAL. You know we are DEADLY. You. Do. Not. Know. Why.
In the beginning, there was Roger Maxson. A good man, as far as I can tell, who was in the mother of all shitstorms. His CO committed suicide, and he goes calling on the scientists to try and ask why."
"I've..."
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH UNLESS YOU WANT A NEW SKULL HOLE FOR SQUIRE WOLCOTT OUTSIDE TO USE AS A TOILET! So, he asks and he hears stories a lot like this fucking crap. Of course, there were mitigating factors. Fellow humans, only following orders, espirit de corps, and that. You know what he did?"
"I.."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! HE EXECUTED THE LOT OF THEM. Can you give me one good reason not to do the same?"
"No. But please..."
He was tearing up.
"Spare the research. It's our only hope."
Farsight finally seemed up to talking again.
"Our meaning mutants or...?"
"All meaning... meaning anyone. They have no mercy. No bargaining. They will not stop until everyone is dead."
Another motion to Farsight. Sniper rifle lowered.
"Right. No pleas for mercy. No simpering. This has to stop, of course, and the generator is gone, but..."
I took in a breath. This was, well, fucked up, but I'd heard stories, and I'd seen the looks. We might well need it.
"The Brotherhood will protect the research. Our people can talk, if your people are willing. Squad, hold fire."
And he ran off.
Generator down.
"Noncombatant. I couldn't take the shot."
"I know."
"I mean, I'm pretty sure I couldn't. He deserved it, but..."
"Might have, might not. At any rate, not your call."
And it's always best to end these things with a concession.
"At least you were right about the robots?"
Officially, I made the right call. Which is where it ends, as far as I'm concerned.
chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which Medical Concerns are discussed.
From the journals of Joachim "Stitch" Josephs
Brotherhood East
It's finally slowing down in the infirmary. Anyone who was going to die is dead already, and most of the people who will recover are back in the field, which means we're finally having downtime.
Unfortunately, the Still is still broken, and the, ahem, ladies of questionable repute at this bunker... tend to be ghouls.
The Palm family and I have been closer these past few days than ever before.
So, when Farsight, Rage and the rest of the squad came back on a break, it was a nice change from the monotony.
"How'd it go, Rage?"
"Fucking bullshit, like always. Fucking mutants, right?"
"Yeah. I've been seeing the aftereffects. Be careful out there."
"Be fucking careful out there? Stitch, you cut your balls off with that fucking scalpel?"
"Well, Ice chopped yours off. It was solidarity, Wolcott."
"Fuck you too."
You miss that kind of thing when it's gone. Mariposa Syndrome at its finest.
Farsight came limping in a little later.
"Stitch old pal? Broken leg."
"You really should be more careful."
"I was up against three supermutants with M2s, Stitch. I think getting out with one leg broken is being careful."
Well, I took a look. And it was... whoever did the first attempt at surgery should be shot for malpractice. Someone had managed to mitigate most of the damage, but it was still amazingly bad.
Multiple crus fractures. A fucking Bosworth fracture. I was amazed Stills could still move.
I could fix it, But...
"Farsight, this is going to hurt."
"Watching Rage try to be suave hurt or having a Deathclaw rip off your legs, crawling through a minefield covered in broken glass, and then being eaten alive by roaches hurt?"
"The second."
"Good. I couldn't live through the first. "
I gave her a slug of vodka for the pain (The Med-x ran out over a week ago and I'm not prescribing a patient voodoo.) and went to work.
And she gave the world's new record for volume in rendition of the word "Fuck". Then, it was over.
"Now, if I was your commanding officer, I'd hold you for a few weeks to heal."
"And you're not. Magpie needs me. Anyone else in my spot just means someone gets killed. If I stay out there, at least it can be me when it happens. Even if my C.O..."
And Milo walked in the door.
"Stitch! Just the man I was hoping to see. I filled out the paperwork. Next mission, you get to see fieldwork again. I know, you're beside yourself with joy."
Farsight was sitting up straighter than I remembered before when talking to Milo. Excuse me, Knight Commander Milo.
"Mission?"
"Assassination or diplomacy. We've found the leader of the mutants. It's our job to...end things. I hold every hope that talks will prove useful, the main reason Wolcott is staying home on this one, but in the eventuality of violence, we will be needing a second medic. Ideally, one who does not eat corpses. Standard rules of engagement."
"Leader?"
"Gamorin, and that's all we know. Apparently, it means champion or similar. He probably has Baranky with him, making this, potentially, a daring rescue."
I didn't really get a say in things. I just packed up some medical supplies, and saw a Deathclaw ready to drive a hummer.
chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
edited November 2011
In Which no-one is good at diplomacy.
From the journals of Nina "Farsight" Stills
I had to bring Stitch up to speed before the last mission. It put things in prospective.
You forget that most people don't carry 200 rounds of spare ammo "In case Babs needs some without telling you."
You describe a show down with 27 mutants with fire coming over everything, and anyone outside Magpie looks at you like you've fallen into the middle of a cold sea instead of "Yeah. Shit happens, quit bitching."
On a more positive note, having something like 4,000 spare rounds for the sniper rifles and SAW looks a lot better when most squads struggle to keep .223 in stock. Scroungers, amateur gunsmiths, and thieves can keep the supply lines running, I guess.
It was an awkward drive.
Then we stopped. Flat. Babs and Shaav went to deal with it, and Milo took the rest of us to look around.
We met some tribals.
"USA NUMBER 1!"
Milo gave a thousand megaton grin from under the environmental armor.
"Indeed it is. America, land of the free, home of the brave. Not many people remember that, these days. Outside the vaults, it's forgotten in the struggle. But you people, fine people..."
"CANADIANS!"
"Wait, no, this must be a misunderstanding. I'm a small businessman and war profiteer. That's as American as Apple Pie."
"Then why are you so fucking polite?"
"There's a funny... Look, ask me to sing the second verse of the Star Spangled Banner. "
I leaned toward the CO then.
"What the hell is the Star Spangled Banner? Only thing I remember is the loyalty oath."
"She's joking. Go on, ask us."
The tribals looked tense then. Their leader spoke up.
"Go on then."
"I can't. See? True blue American."
Then their leader said something else. Well, sang.
"On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
’Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave."
Then they started shooting. Fine by me if it means the singing stops.
Most ran when Milo fired the M-14 in the air.
The rest died to a quick burst of the Jackhammer.
Stitch found a nasty modified water gun.
And Ice?
You see a lot of weird porn in the wasteland. But this was... well, it's got the record, and I hope it keeps it. Not worse than anything else I've seen. Child porn, snuff, it drifts around the wasteland and you get used to it, as in you don't want to set the world on fire anymore. But less coherent, and the production quality said old world, when they were supposed to have a little more class.
Milo recognized it instantly.
"I should have known. So much for true blue patriotism. Someone at this little shindig had Canadian sympathies. No real American knows more than the first verse of our old national anthem. Now, a Canadian? They might, if they wanted to provide bona-fides."
Stitch just stared for a second, and whispered to me.
"I have no idea what the hell is going on. Is this normal now?"
"No, still stupid and confusing."
We just walked back to the Hummer with the supplies. Babs had fixed it when Milo said
"So, the loyalty oath. I'm curious."
Shit. Hadn't had to say it since I was a kid. Still, I sucked in some air. Dad would have skinned me alive if I forgot something like that.
""I further swear (or affirm) that I do not advise, advocate or teach, and have not within the period beginning five (5) years prior to the effective date of the ordinance requiring the making of this oath or affirmation, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means, of the Government of the United States of America, or conscious action against its lawful authority except in such circumstance that the Ranger Center has determined necessary, and that I am not now and have not, within said period, been or become a member of or affiliated with any group, society, association, organization or party which advises, advocates or teaches, or has, within said period, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means of the Government of the United States of America, again with the exception of the Desert Rangers. I further swear (or affirm) that I will not, while I am in the service of the Desert Rangers, advise, advocate or teach, or be or become a member of or affiliated with any group, association, society, organization or party which advises, advocates or teaches, or has within said period, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means, of the Government of the United States of America unless it is acting against its governing principles."
"Hmm."
And we were driving again.
We stopped for some brahmin tipping. Stitch said it was one of the only entertainments growing up.
I can't see the appeal.
When we arrived, well, it was easy to forget Milo was the only one who had (or said he had) anything like a plan. Or knowledge of where we were. Or a face to match the name Gammorin.
In other words, we didn't know jack shit. Milo sent Shaav north to scout, see if friendly contact was possible. Apparently, he'd been pretty optimistic about it, sending us out in the damn daylight with minimal cover, and no huddle for tactics.
It wasn't, but seven feet of Deathclaw nicely distract a mutant from sniper teams.
Unfortunately, that alerted the main mutant forces.
Babs and I were the forward sniper team. It was a simple job.
Count shots. Keep your head down. Fire with your breathing so you don't sway. And aim for the eyes.
And when your teammate yells out something like
"Shee-oot! We've got a lively one!"
You draw your shotgun and empty it before a mutant can beat you to death with a pipe. I'm lucky Babs was there. Scope gives me tunnel vision, and if that means an M2 clubs my head in, I have it coming.
We finished off the patrol, and Shaav found some 50 rounds. Apparently, some scribe had built a rig to let us fragile humans fire the thing without getting ripped to ribbons, and the market for ammo was booming.
I'm not a huge fan. If you can't kill it with .762, you're probably going to die anyway. Trusting a hefty gun to do the work you can't is just stupid.
The main gate was heavily guarded. Milo said there was a tunnel past some mines, so we took a detour.
At least, we started, when Ice stepped out of line.
"Ambush."
130 rounds from my rifle. I counted. They rushed us with clubs and knives, grenades, SAWs. I was focused, even managed to shift to the Jackhammer before I got overwhelmed.
But I let one slip through, like an idiot. Fuck , when it's some bitchy idiot you hate, it's unacceptable. But I nearly let Stitch, Ice and Babs get torn to shreds. This is exactly what a scout is supposed to prevent, let alone a Ranger.
Stitch set up the 249 in a hurry and fired a burst. Mutant fell after a couple seconds. And then we ran. More any second.
You know, I'd heard "Great Airships" a million times in basic. Just some shit about how great the Brotherhood is, how anyone else is a savage who couldn't manage the trip.
I spent a week in the box for saying I didn't see anything impressive about taking a blimp. A real soldier could walk it. But in person, they kind of deserved the bragging. It was a burnt out wreck, but it looked, well, holy. A cathedral to a dead god that didn't have the strength to return on its own.
"Thamous, Pan ho megas tethneke."
And then the majesty goes. We see some maniac pissing into an old Nuka bottle and ranting. Maybe ex-brotherhood. Maybe I didn't care. Stitch and Shaav cleaned up our wounds there.
"And this is normal recently?"
"Yes. I don't like it much more than you do, Stitch. AAGGGHHH!"
"Rib adjustment. Diplomatic mission, huh?"
I shrugged.
"I'm not in charge, Stitch. And I'd have wasted Shaav sooner than talking. God only knows, Stitch."
Shaav moved ahead then, and sniffed out a minefield. That was fun.
I was trying to deal with that when one exploded three feet from me. Browning fire. I found cover, or something close, while two mutants in a good sniping position shot at me. One went down, when I heard a "click".
I was out of .762. We never run out. But the rush earlier cost me. If I stood still, I would die. And if anyone rushed to help me, they'd hit a mine. So, I ran for the ladder.
I was halfway up when it noticed I was moving, and it walked over to investigate. I didn't have many options. So, I clung one handed and grabbed the jackhammer with the other and fired a burst up. Then I relaxed as I fell, because tensing up would break every bone in my body.
I grabbed with my legs then, and avoided more of a fall than I needed. It didn't feel good, but as recent pains went, it hardly was worth mentioning. Crawled down somehow, and helped Shaav get close to a couple mutants.
So, if you throw grenades at a spot on the ground instead of at an enemy? You can hit them while you're sipping tea cozy as Alistair Cooke. They can't even detect you.
They never noticed him until he threw the grenades, which ended any problems. And there we were, the tunnel Milo mentioned. I motioned for the group. Easy in.
"Excellent work, Farsight, just... shit."
I looked for more mutants. Nothing in view.
"What's the problem?"
"It forces us into close, radioactive quarters with the mutants. Range and stealth has been our strategy this whole time. Even range engagements just get good soldiers killed. I suppose you'll hate me when I suggest a frontal assault?"
Babs spoke up then.
"Shucks, no."
Then Ice said what I was thinking.
"We hate you already."
"Excellent then!"
Getting to the tunnels was almost routine. Dangerous then, but the details fade.
We just killed a lot of mutants.
Oh, Shaav ate one's eyeballs while it was still alive. I guess that was almost memorable.
Then we were in. One half dead mutant met us. Milo went to talk to him.
He said something about being overwhelmed, which sounded bad for all of us. And Barnaky didn't give anything up. Good, except it left the leak an open question.
Milo... didn't seem to wonder about that.
I forced Stitch to try to keep the thing alive a little longer. A hostage might buy us enough time to talk, which was the idea here. And anything bad enough to slaughter the mutants like that would leave us wanting all the help we could get, even a shattered army like this one. No luck.
The CO found a letter on the body. I managed to read it later, when we were delivering it to Dekker.
"Although it pains me to record this, I must continue. Time is short and my future is less than certain. *deep breath* I am currently captured and held prisoner by a large group of super mutants and I don't believe that I'm going to make it back this time.
But, once again, time is short and I'll use it to tell you what's important.
I love you Maria. I've loved you since we first met and I love you even more fifty years since.
We were always much alike, you and I. And know that I would never have had the courage to fight for humanity without you faithfully by my side.
For, in the end, I realize I did it all for you. For I wanted nothing more but to restore order to this chaotic world so you can live a life free of danger, free of fear and free of ungodly mutations.
I'm afraid I'm out of time.
I will make every attempt to fix this world for you, my love. I promise.
Love Eternal,
Simon Barnaky
"
I never much liked him. Racist asshole at the best of times. But he deserved better than that. Not my call, though. And then we heard banging on the door. John nodded to Ice.
And she got out a M2, and faced the doorway. It slid open, and blood sprayed out as lead went in.
North, we found a few more mutants... in a room full of explosive tanks.
You could hardly hear for a few minutes after. Then, we went up to another door. It didn't look much different from the others, but Milo made us stop. Then he went in, gun holstered.
"Paladin Latham? Knight Commander Milo. There's been a terrible..."
And the rest was cut off by the sound of a tommygun. Milo fell back then, slamming on the ground. And everyone looked at me.
"Shaav! Grab him. Stitch, triage! Ice, Babs keep them back from the door."
Farsight, try to keep breathing. There was a human working with the mutants. And from the sound of things, Brotherhood. The CO and the elders knew, and they never told us. Friends died, and now it was all...
But I kept breathing, and so did Milo. Environmental armor had blocked most of the bullets.
And then he was talking again.
"Thank you, Josephs. Well, so much for plan A."
"That was a fucking paladin! What the..."
"Was. Mutants respect one thing. Personal strength. I think I owe you a little explanation. "
"Gammorin was one of the lost airship crewmen. Good Paladin. Good man. I assumed that, well... It's unimportant now. I assumed we could talk. Which is why we went in without a good escape route. If we don't take measure, we'll all die on the way out to sheer numbers."
I wished Rage was there about then. For several reasons.
"Against the General and the Elder's advice, not against orders. And I did have a backup plan. As I said, mutants respect strength. We send in a champion for a man to man unarmed fight to the death, and win, it may buy us breathing room."
And then he turned to Shaav.
"Good luck, son."
I didn't see much of the fight.
Not that there was much new to see. Deathclaw diving on helpless human filled every night of Junior Ranger Farsight's life from age 6-16. The night the nightmares stopped was paradisaical.
Milo stepped in once it was done. The general was gasping out his last words.
Our CO just... stared. No words, no gestures for a few minutes. I started to wonder about shock.
Then
"Shaav. Grab the body. You're Gammorin by right of battle until we get back to the safety of the bunker. Show the body as proof, and hope they don't rush us. When you see the jeep, run. We'll follow. Am I clear?"
"Shaav not Gammorin. Shaav Shaav."
"It's a title. Like Doctor. Can you handle that?"
Shaav nodded. Milo grabbed a briefcase and we started running.
It was tense on the way out. Superstition kept the mutants away. Or loyalty. Or something. But we were able to run and no-one was able to follow, much as the crazy guy by the blimp cursed. Shaav put pedal to metal, and we were away, while Milo listened to a holotape he found in the briefcase. And swore under his breath.
Something's coming. Never so bad it can't get worse. And we killed one of our own today, for God-knows-what reason.
Nothing to do but hope and pray.
Bonus:
So, in Tactics, like previous and future Fallouts, there were holodisks. Little bits of additional information to flesh out the world. Only in this one? They weren't properly implemented. Fortunately, the wiki dug them up. Barnaky's letter is one of them.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 10.1.4.
We have crash landed north of a camp occupied by Super Mutants. We believe these to be remnants of the Master's army as encountered by the first Vault Dweller. Although the archives mentioned that some of these Super Mutants might actually be friendly, we found little to like about these ones, especially the chief.
The leader of this camp went by the name of Gammorin. We were set upon by his patrols soon after we pulled ourselves from the wreckage. Bound and gagged, the mutant guards dragged us back to their camp. Fully half of us had been killed by the crash, and now less than half of that survived the treatment of our mutant captors.
We were scheduled to be killed for the amusement of Gammorin. It was not hard to see that several of the Super-Mutants were unhappy with this. In fact, I was amazed to discover that they were not as savage as I had been previously lead to believe.
I challenged Gammorin to single unarmed combat. It was to the death. There could be no other outcome in my mind. If I die, it will in combat.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.0.1.
I am awake.
To tell the truth, I remember little of the battle. The gash on my head, along with multiple fractures and breaks, paint an adequate picture. However, the mutants are now expecting me to lead them since I laid Gammorin to rest. I will record more later. I fear my brain has been set awry by the fight. I will try to rest until I can think clearly.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.5.8.
The Super Mutants are a simple but good people. While considered stupid by many, they show a loyalty stronger than I have seen in many humans. They live life the only way they know how.
I have begun to organize these Mutant forces with the handful of fellow humans who survived the crash. I have recovered physically but I find myself prone to mysterious fits of anger and depression. But much worse are the hallucinations.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.4.5.
Today is a day filled with absolute horror.
Only one mutant returned from a scouting trip that was ten soldiers strong. He staggered back to camp and collapsed without a sound. He died in my arms while trying to hold back the blood pouring from his mouth.
Before I had a chance to close his eyes, the menace was upon us! Metallic death machines entered the camp undetected by my sentries! I have never seen creatures such as this before, but they seemed unstoppable. It was only the sheer power and, more importantly, our numbers that allowed us to defeat these three machinations of death.
Our losses were staggering.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.8.2.
We are resting now. Humans and mutants alike, hanging their heads and trying to catch their breath. Who knows how far we retreated? Twenty miles? Forty even?
Once we put enough distance between us and this... this Menace from the West, then we can regroup and plan a counter-strike.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.3.4.
I am not well. This morning I thought I was attacked by a Deathclaw. Too far from my SMG, I lashed out with my Ripper, slashing the beast's throat. My vision cleared in time to see Nathan the scribe's eyes go cloudy. His neck in ruin, his blood covering my hands. How can I go mad when humanity is in such dire peril?
I must maintain my sanity. I must.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.4.2.
My scouts engaged an enemy today. The sound of chain guns and explosions hasting my steps. What I observed in that fight changed me to the core of my being.
My mutant scouts were engaged by a Brotherhood patrol. For the first time in my life, I was frozen in battle.
I watched, curious even, tribal looking Brotherhood soldiers laughing manically as they cut down my new companions.
My mutant companions, who dedicated their life to me as their leader. I lifted my weapon then, and fired again and again.
When it was over, with Brotherhood corpses littering the ground, my head suddenly cleared. I now know my purpose and, more importantly, I finally know who I am.
I am Gammorin - sworn enemy of the Menace from the West.
Diplomacy is for hostage negotiators and the French.
And I don't see a megaphone or a baguette.
[REDACTED]
0
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chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
In Which Big Stick policy is discussed.
From the diary of Barbara Harris.
Well, shucks. Looks like Shaav and me won't be feeling like the odd ones out soon enough. Last thing first, though. We're packing up an' movin' on ahead.
Something about a tech cult and robots and suchlike. What matters is that there's a lot of hustle and folks aren't watching things too closely. Wouldn't steal something from Farsight or someone else in the squad these days, but some folks don't seem to be needing quite so much in the way of stuff.
Well, I've been trying not to steal from squadmates lately. It's tricky to remember sometimes when they get something fancy. But I usually give it back before they miss it these days. Old habits, I reckon.
Anyhow, we're heading in from the little assassination, which left us all feelin' as tuckered out as a clean-up crew the day after the war. Milo's listening to a holotape and swearin' under his breath enough to make you think Rage is riding in the trunk, and it's all just... depressing, if anyone wanted my opinion. Shaav's bein' all sad to make everyone feel better, even when you know he don't get any of it.
And then we're nearing home when Farsight spots something on the horizon and she starts swearing too.
"Mutants. A... They've got most of a company. We're fucked. Everyone is fucked."
Milo seemed to jolt right out with that, turned his little pip-boy off.
"No need to panic. We've... dealt with this kind of thing before."
I said something then
"Shucks. We've taken on more'n our share. What's a couple more."
"A platoon. Maybe two. I've never SEEN a company of anything before. And the ammo's in the trunk."
Well, Oliver was loading up her sniper rife then, and looking down the scope. Then she put the gun back.
"No issue. Drive on."
Most of us just stared at her then, but Milo tapped Shaav and we drove in.
The mutants were unarmed, and some of them were on the ground looking like prisoners but they all turned to stare at the hummer the second we got in sight. And one started chantin'. "GAMMORIN! GAMMORIN!" before one of the Paladins poked at him.
Another mutant with glasses went to talk to them both, then came running to our little hummer.
"They want to see Gammorin."
Well, Milo seemed to know him and he stepped out.
"The corpse is in the trunk, but showing it would be panic in the ranks. Pleasure to see you trying to make good."
"No, the... new Gammorin."
"Ah. Shaav, wave to your public while we talk about the issues of the day. Farsight, might as well be here. Babs, drive the car in. Tell Dekker I'll be along shortly."
And then we watch the few Paladins out there trying to keep all the mutants in line.
Milo came out a little later.
"Well, it turns out some mutants decided to go with us when things went bad. Emphasis on some. Not an organized threat at present, mission accomplished on that front, but we're going to need a garrison here when we go."
"And Shaav is very popular."
Farsight snorted a little then.
Stitch responded.
"Wait. We're moving again?"
"Fresh tech to the west in the hands of the unworthy. And... other things, on a need to know basis. Like the intel on Latham, we want to avoid a panic. Any details, and Rage or someone else might guess. Stitch, you're with the medical convoy."
"And the Mutants are staying behind."
"Some. Integrated units these days, changing times, kicking and screaming into the next century. Pack up. Stitch, you're riding with medical again."
Well, there we go. Right smack up to date. Other than the unguarded medical supply cupboards.
I'm liking babs and farsight too. Recent updates have really rounded out the cast.
I'm torn about new additions though. Each new race is awesome and makes the story that much better. The best part is the interactions between them. But I can't imagine losing any member of the current crew. And there's 3 more races.
Frankly I'm amazed at how easily you're dispatching the super muties. I remember the learning curve when dealing with them was...harsh. Good show!
It's not AS easy as it looks. I'm reloading... well, reasonably often. Surprise M2s are nasty, and close quarters are deadly. But Farsight is a monster against them.
High AC, and an insane range with the sniper rifle. They can't hit at the ranges she engages at, so it's a sturdy game of shooting out the eyeballs.
Of course, when anyone else gets close, heh. Mutants are like the giants in the Silver Chair. The only safe place is where they're aiming. Everyone else is in trouble.
And Kansas City is turn based and filled with panic. Being cautious with M2 ammo didn't help there.
And, since I didn't mention it when it went down, the Shaav CSI Miami thing is kind of amazing. Good show.
chiasaur11Never doubt a raccoon.Do you think it's trademarked?Registered Userregular
Intermission 3
From "The War of the Steel Plague: An Initiate's Guide"
At the time, the Gammorin campaign was the worst thing to happen to our Brotherhood since the great crash and the exile. While the majority of our forces survived, they were mostly inexperienced, untrained tribals, Deathclaws, and others who we would have once rejected at best, and slaughtered had circumstances permitted. Our officer corps, the intelligence division, our engineers, they all were devastated by a handful of mutant attacks. John Milo may have been the most famous promotion in the wake of the Gammorin campaign, but he was hardly alone. Any tribal or other recruit who showed exceptional skill or valor went up the ladder much faster than ever before. We were desperate for veterans, and old order Paladins like Solo and Maximus were tasked to the limit until the conflict ended.
The Supermutant army broke with the death of the second Gammorin and the crowning of the third, a dynasty that continues to this day. With the mutants destroyed as an organized force, and most of the best loyal to the Brotherhood of Steel, the wastes finally breathed easily. Even in the Brotherhood, the worst was officially over. Latham's betrayal, the tremendous costs, anything that could destroy morale was swept aside.
But at the highest levels, and in the most trusted squads, some knew better. If the Mutants had been able to bring their full force against us, we would have been destroyed in days. The Menace from the West saved us for a time. But the enemy of my enemy is not a friend. Not an ally. They are a tool and a potential threat. Remember this in dealings with the Enclave or the lesser Brotherhoods. We give them shelter and technology, but that should not be mistaken for trust. The Elders set plans in play to protect against the encroaching robots, and prepared for the worst as we headed towards Vault Zero and the motherload.
At the time, one Mutant gave a terrifying story. He claimed to be the only remaining survivor of a trip into an underground facility that closely matched the descriptions of Vault Zero. Although the details were difficult to confirm, and the brotherhood of the time was loathe to trust Mutants, it claimed the robots had awakened when he and his brethren stepped inside. It was a possible hub for the new enemy, but the implications were horrible. Remember, this was before the Enclave showed itself to the wastes, and long, long before the Chicago Accords. The old world was a corpse. Vault Zero's new purpose was revenge from beyond the grave.
It was where the Brotherhood entered the War. And where we were almost destroyed.
And the original chapter ending text
The Super Mutants were a powerful adversary of great strength and courage. Without the leadership of Gammorin though, they will never pose the same threat to the Brotherhood. It was the corruption of Gammorin that provided the most sobering lesson; even the purest of hearts may falter. The Elders and Generals must push their sorrow aside however, for they have more pressing matters to attend to. The data recovered from the Gammorin's base, indicates the mutant force's route, intercepted with the calculated location of Vault 0. It is possible that the mutant horde discovered the location of Vault 0 during their exodus from the west. Is there a connection between the mutants discovering Vault 0 and the emergence of the mechanical menace? Only time will tell the future holds one thing for certain more encounters with the Robots are inevitable and the Brotherhood has a new and deadly enemy.
Posts
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
This is good stuff.
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
PSN: Wstfgl | GamerTag: An Evil Plan | Battle.net: FallenIdle#1970
Hit me up on BoardGameArena! User: Loaded D1
Why I fear the ocean.
In the "Shop"?
Haven't brought a computer in to get fixed since the early 90's with my 486.
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
So. Gravestone.
Officially, this is another diplomatic mission that we stumbled into on long range patrol.
Which is why Rage and Ice are coming along. I mean, nothing says "diplomacy" like "I will shit down your neck". Honestly, if this wasn't gunboat diplomacy at best, I'd be back at the bunker. Not exactly a people person.
Well, we were going, and Babs and Milo would be good at talking to ghouls in exchange for their atomic bomb. Rad-x should keep us alive and not-vomiting until we secure the area.
The trip down has been... messy.
Few holdout beastlords tried to attack us. Not a good idea when the hummer is full of SAWs and ammo.
The mutant ambush was more of an issue. Eight or nine of them before we got to Gravestone. We'd all kind of hoped to beat them to the site. So much for that.
Fortunately, Rage and Ice are good with heavy weapons.
And I'm the best sniper in the whole damn brotherhood of steel. Took out a mutant with fucking Ma Deuce before he blew us all to hell.
So, all going well, for a given very low standard of well.
Then Rage speaks up.
"Look at this shit. Fucking asshole was charging a fucking gun emplacement with a fucking piece of lead pipe."
"Mutants are stupid?"
"They're fucking retards, yeah, but not enough to pull this shit. I thought you said they had a fucking manufacturing plant. Guess they're building fucking mutant dildos if this crap is on the frontlines."
"Well, shucks, Wolcott. Not e'rybody can be a logistics wizard like Milo. Ah reckon they just..."
"Then somebody else is ramming them up the ass if they can't get their heads out of their asses for a fucking Nuke. Shit, not all of them are fucktarded."
I hate to agree with Rage, but... I agree with Rage. Something is off.
We're almost there. Rad-x down.
Gravestone coming up. Should be "fun".
Why I fear the ocean.
Shaav is writing letter home because Shaav good boy, not like dumb shriek. Shaav ask Broodmother Farsight for help writing letter and spelling but Broodmother Farsight say "No! Drink!" so Shaav ask squadleader Milo for help and he said he help with spelling and tricky bits if Shaav let him put advertising in same envelope.
Shaav think this good deal. (Means free poop-paper. No tell squadleader.)
So. Shaav adventure. Shaav doing fine in Magpie squad. Shaav drive truk truck good, get food, help fix people.
Yesterday Shaav go for long drive. Say secret, but give map. We kill lot of big green people.
Find town of little drippy people, like Babs. (Babs is drippy steelperson, Krldaav. She nice, always have treat.)
Milo says
"Hostiles coming. Shaav, Ice, Rage, South! Farsight, wall!"
Shaav do, because mama say to help and Broodmother Farsight give Shaav books and pies, and Milo give Shaav help with things and more stuff and lets Shaav eat things Shaav finds.
Shaav chaperone there, Broodmother Farsight said later. Just another thing Shaav good at.
So, we go and there are lots and lots and lots of big stinky drippy men.
Rage (Bald shinysteel person) says "Fuck!" and a lot of other noises, and he and Ice (Silent shinysteelperson, Krldaav) set up loud shootyguns. Shaav get out grenades.
Small drippy men make noises too. Smells too. Shaav not like smells.
The big drippypersons keep running, Rage make ratatatata and Ice go Boom Boom! Shaav help too.
Shaav remember now. Big people moo-tants. (Mutants) Mutants! One try to punch Shaav. Mutants dumb, but taste good.
Rage say fuck a lot. Also lots of other words. Shaav ask what they mean, then ask broodmother Farsight later. Made list!
Shit: Poop! Broodmother says poop too.
Crap: Also poop!
God: Rage say "Old fuck in sky or some shit." Farsight talk about triune and mon-o-theism and Arian hear say and Shaav's head hurt a lot. All Shaav remember is God is nice and tastes good.
Fuck: Lots of things. Farsight just say "Fuck" over and over when Shaav start asking questions. Squadleader says it means Shaav is a good Deathclaw and everyone likes him!
Broodmother Farsight was up on wall. Mutants run at her.
Mutants dumb. Shaav not smart like Mama or Broodmother Farsight or Babs or Milo or Stitch (One eye steelperson) but Shaav know Broodmother Farsight well enough to not stay away when she can see you.
But it not help Shaav. All the small drippy people dead, and more Mutants coming. Rage bleeding, Shaav help, run away and throw grenades.
Shaav throw more grenades, help patch up more.
Squadleader hurt too, him and drippyskins (Ghouls, Shaav.) Ghouls all running and shooting. Guns go clik clik clik and more screaming and
Mutants all dead! Shaav help. Try to catch breath. Everyone else go out, make sure.
Broodmother Farsight shoots more mutants in eyeballs, bang bang!
We find more dead ghouls. Farsight say Shaav a good Deathclaw a lot.
Rage shoot last few Mutants too. Crack in wall. Rage smart.
Ice uses shooty gun, hurts lots of mutants. They explode. Mama say it kill lots of Deathclaws, and be careful! Shaav listen, not get hurt. Mutants dumb.
Broodmother find pew-pew laser. Don't know how to use. Bringing it back.
Mutant throw grenade at broodmother. Shaav worry. It okay, she not hurt, kill mutant bangbangbang.
Rage kill more mutants all together.
Mutants charge. Farsight shove gun in mouth, head explode.
Farsight and Rage grab new boomsticks off ground. Ice says guns Fun-fall and Jackhammer. Ice not talk much not about guns.
Lots of ghouls dead. We go see ghoul leader. Broodmother Farsight says Shaav good Deathclaw more.
Ghoul sad.
Milo talk, then Broodmother Farsight yell a little at Milo. Get shovels.
Broodmother Farsight yell at Rage next and we dig holes. Shaav not get to eat Ghouls, shove them in holes.
We walk away.
Farsight, Milo, and Babs are sad. Rage is not. Says "No offense" a lot to Babs.
Shaav tired now. Have happy pie.
Your son
Shaav
Why I fear the ocean.
Well, I was wrong about Shaav. Seems this whole thing isn't a long game to eat all our entrails or some kind of unholy evil. Just another way to die in the wasteland.
No shortage of those. But some people... well, it's a miracle they lasted as long as they did.
So, we're driving back, avoiding any retreating mutant patrols.
"I don't like it. It was too fucking easy."
"Rage, we nearly got killed, half the population of Gravestone is in shallow graves. I hate to think what hard would be."
"They were only fucking ghouls. Not like people died. No offense. But come fucking on. How it could be harder? Not carrying fucking pipes? Even the fucking flipper baby raiders we ran into a couple months back had fucking grenades. Same shit as last time."
"Shaav have to puke."
"And the fucking wave charge shit. Fuckers back in St. Louis knew better."
Ice spoke up then.
"Disciplined. Good dispersal. Not like this."
"We didn't hit them that fucking hard."
"Shaav really have to puke. Mutant disagree with Shaav."
"Shucks. Poor critter. Y'all better pull over."
"Broodmother say Shaav can pull over?"
"Fine. Go left, mutants seem to be staying away from this canyon."
And we stopped. Shaav was retching into a hole when we saw a civvie.
And a huge cage.
Milo went to talk to her. Shaav followed, wiping his mouth a little.
"Yes. Well. I can't say I entirely..."
"This bad idea."
"Nonsense! You have a Deathclaw companion animal! You see how the poor creatures are mistreated."
"It's more..."
"Shaav not mistreated! Shaav get to drive car."
He scratched his head a little then.
"Do have to poop outside. But not mistreated. Deathclaw lock-up for reasons. Shriek go in box all the time, Shaav never go in box."
Then the idiot ran off and opened the door.
"Shaav say it bad idea!"
Milo looked at all of us then.
"Hummer. Now. Shaav? Floor it."
Dad said God protects fools, children, and the United States of America. But he also added a corollary then.
"Infinite patience only goes so far, Nina. Let the wasteland be a lesson and when an idiot starts testing the limits of that protection, head for the hills."
We drove away frantically firing out the windows, and it more or less worked. We got back in one piece, anyway.
And met with a lunatic cultist.
"We have... reconsidered access to the launch codes. You did the best you could. "
"Fucking A!"
"And you gave the departed passage to the sacred underground testing."
"Weren't nothing."
Well, we might need the firepower. Can't go complaining too much. Might want a debate later, but I'm too tired today.
Babs talked to me in quarters about it after.
"Nuttier than a whole season of Christmas fruitcakes. No wonder folks are so biased against Ghouls. Probably wondering if we're all going to give them pamphlets. Then again, takes all kinds ah reckon."
"You stole the launch codes, didn't you?"
"Well, if he was going to go 'round carrin' copies..."
Well, we're probably going out again soon, and since the leak still isn't pinned, the official mission's going to be unknown until we're on our way.
Every day I pray the still is fixed.
Why I fear the ocean.
I totaled up the Syndicate's resources today, only counting liquid assets. Over 300,000 in scrip. As unfortunate as the incidents with the supermutants may be from the prospective of the Brotherhood as a whole, and for me on a personal level, professionally they've been a godsend. I'll be almost sorry to see them go.
We finished another mission, applying more pressure while the mutants were reeling from Gravestone. Jefferson, the supposed location of a supermutant weapons development plant. Or, apparently, super mutant dildo factory "or some other stupid shit" according to Rage.
The man had a good argument. If the mutants could make their own weapons, they would be considerably less likely to charge mounted guns with pipes and broken beer bottles.
Ah well. Seldom a profitable move to question orders in public.
We arrived under the cover of darkness at the extraction point for the surviving intelligence officers. The bloodstains were not particularly promising.
The scout car they left behind, however, was an asset. Full tank of alcohol, superficial damage. Not enough room for the entire squad, but it provided an excellent mobile machine gun nest..
Unfortunately, Rage didn't see things the same way.
"Shit, it's bad enough to ride in a fucking hummer with Shaav driving, but that rickety piece of crap, through hostile rocket fire..."
"Shaav good driver! Get discount on insurance!"
Which was a fair point. Admittedly, I'd told him not to mention the insurance to anyone else (these things get... complicated when brass gets involved) but I had lowered the rates considerably since I made the first offer.
Statistically, riding in a vehicle driven by Shaav is the safest you can be outside a vault.
"Broodmother Farsight ride with Shaav?"
Stills just sighed and stepped into the back, sticking her sniper rifle out a window.
They returned in record time. I said riding with Shaav was safe. I didn't say it felt safe.
"Lot of mutants. Less now, but still too many. We need another route. "
I'll admit, Farsight has been on the pessimistic side from time to time.
"Would you define too many, Farsight?"
"I don't know. They didn't set up a fucking census, sir. Multiple squad automatic weapons, rockets, grenades. Bare minimum, we need sniper positions. Ideally, we'd get another nuclear bomb."
I went with the first option. More cost efficient.
Farsight took point and found several Bouncing Betties. The mutants actually bothered with security, which meant they had something worth securing or negotiating for. Good news, assuming we didn't die.
We drove the scouter in and loaded it up with 50 cal. Farsight, Rage, and Ice went ahead.
Apparently, they ran into issues.
Of several varieties.
The main point, as far as we could find after, was that Rage "Really want a fucking Jackhammer. I mean, FUCK!"
Also, Initiate Harris did a good job recently adjusting the scope on Initiate Harris's sniper rifle, which Initiate Wolcott took as a double entendre despite the best efforts of all concerned.
I doubt my ribs will recover any time soon.
We encountered more mutants on regrouping. Initiate Stills took point, several excellent shots, and a minigun round to the leg, in that order.
Multiple fractures, if I'm any judge. I attempted to render assistance, but...
Well, Shaav is a better medic than I am, it turns out, and he's no good at healing a broken leg. Stills had a splint, at least, but she'd need care at base.
So, we split. She'd stay with Shaav guarding our backs, Babs and I would provide sniper support, Rage and Ice breach. Simple.
The armor was a good investment. Lowers risk. Farsight, meanwhile, stuck with her Ranger gear, and nearly got her log shot off. Sentimentality can be a risky business, I suppose.
Rage and Ice neutralized multiple hostiles in the trainyard. Enough for a quick drive to the first generator and back, where Rage could keep the mutants occupied while Shaav handled the situation with explosives.
Of course, there was still resistance.
And the scouter needed repairs by the end, making Rage swear at me and wonder how I talked him into the ride. (I still haven't quite worked it out myself, but it may have involved blackmail or death threats.) He did have a point. Any other mechanic would have written the scouter off, most other pilots would have been killed trying to drive it by the end, and Babs was mostly using Nuka bottles and shell casings for the fix by the end. Still, she managed to fix it.
Job well done, when Stills came back, walking like a ghost among the living and the born free, limping with her sniper rifle as a cane.
"Leg still works better than I thought, and I can't trust you without adult supervision."
"I'm sure some would take offense at that."
"Rage is a psycho, Ice isn't going to notice, Babs will help in whatever you're planning for a share, and Shaav is Shaav."
Well, it was true. I'm just surprised it took her that long to notice.
"Scouter then. Back seat, same as earlier, since walking on that leg is something of a bad idea."
If it had just been more mutants, we'd have been fine. Unfortunately, there were... complications.
Turrets. Military grade. I didn't expect this sort of thing. They could shrug off buckshot or 7.62, and grenades meant getting close. A losing proposition. Oh, and their sensor grids could pinpoint a moving target from the pulse at a nice range.
Shaav walked right past.
Threw a grenade, totalled the generator, and walked back. The turrets didn't notice until he was out of range.
"Shaav did good."
I suppose he did.
It was routine for a bit after.
Overwhelming odds. Impossible chokepoints.
Heavily armed mutants getting their heads blown off. If anything went wrong, we'd all die, but it didn't and we didn't. Boring to write about.
And then we saw the only route into the factory, and things became non-routine for a bit.
A radioactive sewer. And we were... low on Rad-X.
(Beastlords and raiders were paying well in the internment camps, urgent need, I'm a soft touch.)
Fortunately, Ice had found some EV protection suits. Unfortunately, it was a cramped one man crawl into a high risk scenario.
I was squad leader. Still am. And that means responsibility alongside privilege.
I grabbed the last pill and dove in. It only made sense. I have a long history with underground enclosed spaces, less radiation exposure and better preventive measures than anyone else, and again, squad leader.
I heard swearing and explosions above, but it's best to ignore these things. When you can't do anything, you can safely ignore a lot.
Large facility there. Good equipment. Bad smell.
Probably from the mutants. Most just cowered in the back, and I can't say murdering civilians has ever appealed to me, human or not. I stepped outside and stared at a mounted gun emplacement.
The cavalry arrived in the nick of time. The noise of initiate Oliver cutting through a mutant torso distracted them for long enough to duck back.
And firing from behind a reinforced steel door bought me enough time to neutralize the enemy before they could kill me.
The rest was... sad, I suppose. Wouldn't say it to anyone else, it hurts morale, but there you are.
Just Mutants angrily charging our line of fire and dying like flies.
Generators exploding.
Angry rants and hints Rage was right. Someone else was, ahem, "fucking over" the Mutant armies.
What a waste.
I decided to take the last generator alone. Carefully. Who knows? I might not have had to kill anyone.
But no. Common sense prevailed. I'd nearly been killed last time I went off alone, and I still wasn't entirely trusted. I'd need witnesses to keep up what reputation I'd earned. Farsight followed while everyone else prepared our getaway.
It was the second most horrible thing I'd seen in my life. Abominations, constant agony, so on and so forth.
And a terrified looking Mutant scientist.
He was pleading, not for his life, but for the research.
Farsight already had the bolt back.
"You sick son of a bitch."
I held my hand up.
"These were volunteers?"
He nodded.
"Right. Now, you are familiar with the Brotherhood of Steel?"
Another nod.
And I match Rychek, one of the nastiest drill sergeants I've met, for volume.
"NO, MAGGOT, YOU DO NOT!"
Farsight just stared. Always fun to surprise people.
"You know we are BRUTAL. You know we are DEADLY. You. Do. Not. Know. Why.
In the beginning, there was Roger Maxson. A good man, as far as I can tell, who was in the mother of all shitstorms. His CO committed suicide, and he goes calling on the scientists to try and ask why."
"I've..."
"SHUT YOUR MOUTH UNLESS YOU WANT A NEW SKULL HOLE FOR SQUIRE WOLCOTT OUTSIDE TO USE AS A TOILET! So, he asks and he hears stories a lot like this fucking crap. Of course, there were mitigating factors. Fellow humans, only following orders, espirit de corps, and that. You know what he did?"
"I.."
"SHUT THE FUCK UP! HE EXECUTED THE LOT OF THEM. Can you give me one good reason not to do the same?"
"No. But please..."
He was tearing up.
"Spare the research. It's our only hope."
Farsight finally seemed up to talking again.
"Our meaning mutants or...?"
"All meaning... meaning anyone. They have no mercy. No bargaining. They will not stop until everyone is dead."
Another motion to Farsight. Sniper rifle lowered.
"Right. No pleas for mercy. No simpering. This has to stop, of course, and the generator is gone, but..."
I took in a breath. This was, well, fucked up, but I'd heard stories, and I'd seen the looks. We might well need it.
"The Brotherhood will protect the research. Our people can talk, if your people are willing. Squad, hold fire."
And he ran off.
Generator down.
"Noncombatant. I couldn't take the shot."
"I know."
"I mean, I'm pretty sure I couldn't. He deserved it, but..."
"Might have, might not. At any rate, not your call."
And it's always best to end these things with a concession.
"At least you were right about the robots?"
Officially, I made the right call. Which is where it ends, as far as I'm concerned.
It means I can go back to the important work.
Why I fear the ocean.
He's a minor, you sick freaks.
For shame.
Why I fear the ocean.
This is Fallout. Everyone is sick, everyone is probably a freak to some degree.
Like a flesh-eating demon, Shaav Farm is there!
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
I guess you could say...
... it was a close Shaav.
Steam: Elvenshae // PSN: Elvenshae // WotC: Elvenshae
Wilds of Aladrion: [https://forums.penny-arcade.com/discussion/comment/43159014/#Comment_43159014]Ellandryn[/url]
Brotherhood East
It's finally slowing down in the infirmary. Anyone who was going to die is dead already, and most of the people who will recover are back in the field, which means we're finally having downtime.
Unfortunately, the Still is still broken, and the, ahem, ladies of questionable repute at this bunker... tend to be ghouls.
The Palm family and I have been closer these past few days than ever before.
So, when Farsight, Rage and the rest of the squad came back on a break, it was a nice change from the monotony.
"How'd it go, Rage?"
"Fucking bullshit, like always. Fucking mutants, right?"
"Yeah. I've been seeing the aftereffects. Be careful out there."
"Be fucking careful out there? Stitch, you cut your balls off with that fucking scalpel?"
"Well, Ice chopped yours off. It was solidarity, Wolcott."
"Fuck you too."
You miss that kind of thing when it's gone. Mariposa Syndrome at its finest.
Farsight came limping in a little later.
"Stitch old pal? Broken leg."
"You really should be more careful."
"I was up against three supermutants with M2s, Stitch. I think getting out with one leg broken is being careful."
Well, I took a look. And it was... whoever did the first attempt at surgery should be shot for malpractice. Someone had managed to mitigate most of the damage, but it was still amazingly bad.
Multiple crus fractures. A fucking Bosworth fracture. I was amazed Stills could still move.
I could fix it, But...
"Farsight, this is going to hurt."
"Watching Rage try to be suave hurt or having a Deathclaw rip off your legs, crawling through a minefield covered in broken glass, and then being eaten alive by roaches hurt?"
"The second."
"Good. I couldn't live through the first. "
I gave her a slug of vodka for the pain (The Med-x ran out over a week ago and I'm not prescribing a patient voodoo.) and went to work.
And she gave the world's new record for volume in rendition of the word "Fuck". Then, it was over.
"Now, if I was your commanding officer, I'd hold you for a few weeks to heal."
"And you're not. Magpie needs me. Anyone else in my spot just means someone gets killed. If I stay out there, at least it can be me when it happens. Even if my C.O..."
And Milo walked in the door.
"Stitch! Just the man I was hoping to see. I filled out the paperwork. Next mission, you get to see fieldwork again. I know, you're beside yourself with joy."
Farsight was sitting up straighter than I remembered before when talking to Milo. Excuse me, Knight Commander Milo.
"Mission?"
"Assassination or diplomacy. We've found the leader of the mutants. It's our job to...end things. I hold every hope that talks will prove useful, the main reason Wolcott is staying home on this one, but in the eventuality of violence, we will be needing a second medic. Ideally, one who does not eat corpses. Standard rules of engagement."
"Leader?"
"Gamorin, and that's all we know. Apparently, it means champion or similar. He probably has Baranky with him, making this, potentially, a daring rescue."
I didn't really get a say in things. I just packed up some medical supplies, and saw a Deathclaw ready to drive a hummer.
Things changed while I was gone.
Why I fear the ocean.
Ah. So that's what they've been doing.
That poor man has no idea.
Fucking fantastic.
Steam profile.
Getting started with BATTLETECH: Part 1 / Part 2
I had to bring Stitch up to speed before the last mission. It put things in prospective.
You forget that most people don't carry 200 rounds of spare ammo "In case Babs needs some without telling you."
You describe a show down with 27 mutants with fire coming over everything, and anyone outside Magpie looks at you like you've fallen into the middle of a cold sea instead of "Yeah. Shit happens, quit bitching."
On a more positive note, having something like 4,000 spare rounds for the sniper rifles and SAW looks a lot better when most squads struggle to keep .223 in stock. Scroungers, amateur gunsmiths, and thieves can keep the supply lines running, I guess.
It was an awkward drive.
Then we stopped. Flat. Babs and Shaav went to deal with it, and Milo took the rest of us to look around.
We met some tribals.
"USA NUMBER 1!"
Milo gave a thousand megaton grin from under the environmental armor.
"Indeed it is. America, land of the free, home of the brave. Not many people remember that, these days. Outside the vaults, it's forgotten in the struggle. But you people, fine people..."
"CANADIANS!"
"Wait, no, this must be a misunderstanding. I'm a small businessman and war profiteer. That's as American as Apple Pie."
"Then why are you so fucking polite?"
"There's a funny... Look, ask me to sing the second verse of the Star Spangled Banner. "
I leaned toward the CO then.
"What the hell is the Star Spangled Banner? Only thing I remember is the loyalty oath."
"She's joking. Go on, ask us."
The tribals looked tense then. Their leader spoke up.
"Go on then."
"I can't. See? True blue American."
Then their leader said something else. Well, sang.
"On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
Where the foe’s haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o’er the towering steep,
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning’s first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines in the stream:
’Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave
O’er the land of the free and the home of the brave."
Then they started shooting. Fine by me if it means the singing stops.
Most ran when Milo fired the M-14 in the air.
The rest died to a quick burst of the Jackhammer.
Stitch found a nasty modified water gun.
And Ice?
You see a lot of weird porn in the wasteland. But this was... well, it's got the record, and I hope it keeps it. Not worse than anything else I've seen. Child porn, snuff, it drifts around the wasteland and you get used to it, as in you don't want to set the world on fire anymore. But less coherent, and the production quality said old world, when they were supposed to have a little more class.
Milo recognized it instantly.
"I should have known. So much for true blue patriotism. Someone at this little shindig had Canadian sympathies. No real American knows more than the first verse of our old national anthem. Now, a Canadian? They might, if they wanted to provide bona-fides."
Stitch just stared for a second, and whispered to me.
"I have no idea what the hell is going on. Is this normal now?"
"No, still stupid and confusing."
We just walked back to the Hummer with the supplies. Babs had fixed it when Milo said
"So, the loyalty oath. I'm curious."
Shit. Hadn't had to say it since I was a kid. Still, I sucked in some air. Dad would have skinned me alive if I forgot something like that.
""I further swear (or affirm) that I do not advise, advocate or teach, and have not within the period beginning five (5) years prior to the effective date of the ordinance requiring the making of this oath or affirmation, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means, of the Government of the United States of America, or conscious action against its lawful authority except in such circumstance that the Ranger Center has determined necessary, and that I am not now and have not, within said period, been or become a member of or affiliated with any group, society, association, organization or party which advises, advocates or teaches, or has, within said period, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means of the Government of the United States of America, again with the exception of the Desert Rangers. I further swear (or affirm) that I will not, while I am in the service of the Desert Rangers, advise, advocate or teach, or be or become a member of or affiliated with any group, association, society, organization or party which advises, advocates or teaches, or has within said period, advised, advocated or taught, the overthrow by force, violence or other unlawful means, of the Government of the United States of America unless it is acting against its governing principles."
"Hmm."
And we were driving again.
We stopped for some brahmin tipping. Stitch said it was one of the only entertainments growing up.
I can't see the appeal.
When we arrived, well, it was easy to forget Milo was the only one who had (or said he had) anything like a plan. Or knowledge of where we were. Or a face to match the name Gammorin.
In other words, we didn't know jack shit. Milo sent Shaav north to scout, see if friendly contact was possible. Apparently, he'd been pretty optimistic about it, sending us out in the damn daylight with minimal cover, and no huddle for tactics.
It wasn't, but seven feet of Deathclaw nicely distract a mutant from sniper teams.
Unfortunately, that alerted the main mutant forces.
Babs and I were the forward sniper team. It was a simple job.
Count shots. Keep your head down. Fire with your breathing so you don't sway. And aim for the eyes.
And when your teammate yells out something like
"Shee-oot! We've got a lively one!"
You draw your shotgun and empty it before a mutant can beat you to death with a pipe. I'm lucky Babs was there. Scope gives me tunnel vision, and if that means an M2 clubs my head in, I have it coming.
We finished off the patrol, and Shaav found some 50 rounds. Apparently, some scribe had built a rig to let us fragile humans fire the thing without getting ripped to ribbons, and the market for ammo was booming.
I'm not a huge fan. If you can't kill it with .762, you're probably going to die anyway. Trusting a hefty gun to do the work you can't is just stupid.
The main gate was heavily guarded. Milo said there was a tunnel past some mines, so we took a detour.
At least, we started, when Ice stepped out of line.
"Ambush."
130 rounds from my rifle. I counted. They rushed us with clubs and knives, grenades, SAWs. I was focused, even managed to shift to the Jackhammer before I got overwhelmed.
But I let one slip through, like an idiot. Fuck , when it's some bitchy idiot you hate, it's unacceptable. But I nearly let Stitch, Ice and Babs get torn to shreds. This is exactly what a scout is supposed to prevent, let alone a Ranger.
Stitch set up the 249 in a hurry and fired a burst. Mutant fell after a couple seconds. And then we ran. More any second.
You know, I'd heard "Great Airships" a million times in basic. Just some shit about how great the Brotherhood is, how anyone else is a savage who couldn't manage the trip.
I spent a week in the box for saying I didn't see anything impressive about taking a blimp. A real soldier could walk it. But in person, they kind of deserved the bragging. It was a burnt out wreck, but it looked, well, holy. A cathedral to a dead god that didn't have the strength to return on its own.
"Thamous, Pan ho megas tethneke."
And then the majesty goes. We see some maniac pissing into an old Nuka bottle and ranting. Maybe ex-brotherhood. Maybe I didn't care. Stitch and Shaav cleaned up our wounds there.
"And this is normal recently?"
"Yes. I don't like it much more than you do, Stitch. AAGGGHHH!"
"Rib adjustment. Diplomatic mission, huh?"
I shrugged.
"I'm not in charge, Stitch. And I'd have wasted Shaav sooner than talking. God only knows, Stitch."
Shaav moved ahead then, and sniffed out a minefield. That was fun.
I was trying to deal with that when one exploded three feet from me. Browning fire. I found cover, or something close, while two mutants in a good sniping position shot at me. One went down, when I heard a "click".
I was out of .762. We never run out. But the rush earlier cost me. If I stood still, I would die. And if anyone rushed to help me, they'd hit a mine. So, I ran for the ladder.
I was halfway up when it noticed I was moving, and it walked over to investigate. I didn't have many options. So, I clung one handed and grabbed the jackhammer with the other and fired a burst up. Then I relaxed as I fell, because tensing up would break every bone in my body.
I grabbed with my legs then, and avoided more of a fall than I needed. It didn't feel good, but as recent pains went, it hardly was worth mentioning. Crawled down somehow, and helped Shaav get close to a couple mutants.
They never noticed him until he threw the grenades, which ended any problems. And there we were, the tunnel Milo mentioned. I motioned for the group. Easy in.
"Excellent work, Farsight, just... shit."
I looked for more mutants. Nothing in view.
"What's the problem?"
"It forces us into close, radioactive quarters with the mutants. Range and stealth has been our strategy this whole time. Even range engagements just get good soldiers killed. I suppose you'll hate me when I suggest a frontal assault?"
Babs spoke up then.
"Shucks, no."
Then Ice said what I was thinking.
"We hate you already."
"Excellent then!"
Getting to the tunnels was almost routine. Dangerous then, but the details fade.
We just killed a lot of mutants.
Oh, Shaav ate one's eyeballs while it was still alive. I guess that was almost memorable.
Then we were in. One half dead mutant met us. Milo went to talk to him.
He said something about being overwhelmed, which sounded bad for all of us. And Barnaky didn't give anything up. Good, except it left the leak an open question.
Milo... didn't seem to wonder about that.
I forced Stitch to try to keep the thing alive a little longer. A hostage might buy us enough time to talk, which was the idea here. And anything bad enough to slaughter the mutants like that would leave us wanting all the help we could get, even a shattered army like this one. No luck.
The CO found a letter on the body. I managed to read it later, when we were delivering it to Dekker.
"Although it pains me to record this, I must continue. Time is short and my future is less than certain. *deep breath* I am currently captured and held prisoner by a large group of super mutants and I don't believe that I'm going to make it back this time.
But, once again, time is short and I'll use it to tell you what's important.
I love you Maria. I've loved you since we first met and I love you even more fifty years since.
We were always much alike, you and I. And know that I would never have had the courage to fight for humanity without you faithfully by my side.
For, in the end, I realize I did it all for you. For I wanted nothing more but to restore order to this chaotic world so you can live a life free of danger, free of fear and free of ungodly mutations.
I'm afraid I'm out of time.
I will make every attempt to fix this world for you, my love. I promise.
Love Eternal,
Simon Barnaky
"
I never much liked him. Racist asshole at the best of times. But he deserved better than that. Not my call, though. And then we heard banging on the door. John nodded to Ice.
And she got out a M2, and faced the doorway. It slid open, and blood sprayed out as lead went in.
North, we found a few more mutants... in a room full of explosive tanks.
You could hardly hear for a few minutes after. Then, we went up to another door. It didn't look much different from the others, but Milo made us stop. Then he went in, gun holstered.
"Paladin Latham? Knight Commander Milo. There's been a terrible..."
And the rest was cut off by the sound of a tommygun. Milo fell back then, slamming on the ground. And everyone looked at me.
"Shaav! Grab him. Stitch, triage! Ice, Babs keep them back from the door."
Farsight, try to keep breathing. There was a human working with the mutants. And from the sound of things, Brotherhood. The CO and the elders knew, and they never told us. Friends died, and now it was all...
But I kept breathing, and so did Milo. Environmental armor had blocked most of the bullets.
And then he was talking again.
"Thank you, Josephs. Well, so much for plan A."
"That was a fucking paladin! What the..."
"Was. Mutants respect one thing. Personal strength. I think I owe you a little explanation. "
"Gammorin was one of the lost airship crewmen. Good Paladin. Good man. I assumed that, well... It's unimportant now. I assumed we could talk. Which is why we went in without a good escape route. If we don't take measure, we'll all die on the way out to sheer numbers."
I wished Rage was there about then. For several reasons.
"Against the General and the Elder's advice, not against orders. And I did have a backup plan. As I said, mutants respect strength. We send in a champion for a man to man unarmed fight to the death, and win, it may buy us breathing room."
And then he turned to Shaav.
"Good luck, son."
I didn't see much of the fight.
Not that there was much new to see. Deathclaw diving on helpless human filled every night of Junior Ranger Farsight's life from age 6-16. The night the nightmares stopped was paradisaical.
Milo stepped in once it was done. The general was gasping out his last words.
Our CO just... stared. No words, no gestures for a few minutes. I started to wonder about shock.
Then
"Shaav. Grab the body. You're Gammorin by right of battle until we get back to the safety of the bunker. Show the body as proof, and hope they don't rush us. When you see the jeep, run. We'll follow. Am I clear?"
"Shaav not Gammorin. Shaav Shaav."
"It's a title. Like Doctor. Can you handle that?"
Shaav nodded. Milo grabbed a briefcase and we started running.
It was tense on the way out. Superstition kept the mutants away. Or loyalty. Or something. But we were able to run and no-one was able to follow, much as the crazy guy by the blimp cursed. Shaav put pedal to metal, and we were away, while Milo listened to a holotape he found in the briefcase. And swore under his breath.
Something's coming. Never so bad it can't get worse. And we killed one of our own today, for God-knows-what reason.
Nothing to do but hope and pray.
Bonus:
Another? Latham's journals.
http://fallout.wikia.com/wiki/Journal_of_Sir_Latham
We have crash landed north of a camp occupied by Super Mutants. We believe these to be remnants of the Master's army as encountered by the first Vault Dweller. Although the archives mentioned that some of these Super Mutants might actually be friendly, we found little to like about these ones, especially the chief.
The leader of this camp went by the name of Gammorin. We were set upon by his patrols soon after we pulled ourselves from the wreckage. Bound and gagged, the mutant guards dragged us back to their camp. Fully half of us had been killed by the crash, and now less than half of that survived the treatment of our mutant captors.
We were scheduled to be killed for the amusement of Gammorin. It was not hard to see that several of the Super-Mutants were unhappy with this. In fact, I was amazed to discover that they were not as savage as I had been previously lead to believe.
I challenged Gammorin to single unarmed combat. It was to the death. There could be no other outcome in my mind. If I die, it will in combat.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.0.1.
I am awake.
To tell the truth, I remember little of the battle. The gash on my head, along with multiple fractures and breaks, paint an adequate picture. However, the mutants are now expecting me to lead them since I laid Gammorin to rest. I will record more later. I fear my brain has been set awry by the fight. I will try to rest until I can think clearly.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 0.5.8.
The Super Mutants are a simple but good people. While considered stupid by many, they show a loyalty stronger than I have seen in many humans. They live life the only way they know how.
I have begun to organize these Mutant forces with the handful of fellow humans who survived the crash. I have recovered physically but I find myself prone to mysterious fits of anger and depression. But much worse are the hallucinations.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.4.5.
Today is a day filled with absolute horror.
Only one mutant returned from a scouting trip that was ten soldiers strong. He staggered back to camp and collapsed without a sound. He died in my arms while trying to hold back the blood pouring from his mouth.
Before I had a chance to close his eyes, the menace was upon us! Metallic death machines entered the camp undetected by my sentries! I have never seen creatures such as this before, but they seemed unstoppable. It was only the sheer power and, more importantly, our numbers that allowed us to defeat these three machinations of death.
Our losses were staggering.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 1.8.2.
We are resting now. Humans and mutants alike, hanging their heads and trying to catch their breath. Who knows how far we retreated? Twenty miles? Forty even?
Once we put enough distance between us and this... this Menace from the West, then we can regroup and plan a counter-strike.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.3.4.
I am not well. This morning I thought I was attacked by a Deathclaw. Too far from my SMG, I lashed out with my Ripper, slashing the beast's throat. My vision cleared in time to see Nathan the scribe's eyes go cloudy. His neck in ruin, his blood covering my hands. How can I go mad when humanity is in such dire peril?
I must maintain my sanity. I must.
Journal of Sir Latham, Entry 2.4.2.
My scouts engaged an enemy today. The sound of chain guns and explosions hasting my steps. What I observed in that fight changed me to the core of my being.
My mutant scouts were engaged by a Brotherhood patrol. For the first time in my life, I was frozen in battle.
I watched, curious even, tribal looking Brotherhood soldiers laughing manically as they cut down my new companions.
My mutant companions, who dedicated their life to me as their leader. I lifted my weapon then, and fired again and again.
When it was over, with Brotherhood corpses littering the ground, my head suddenly cleared. I now know my purpose and, more importantly, I finally know who I am.
I am Gammorin - sworn enemy of the Menace from the West.
Why I fear the ocean.
And I don't see a megaphone or a baguette.
Well, shucks. Looks like Shaav and me won't be feeling like the odd ones out soon enough. Last thing first, though. We're packing up an' movin' on ahead.
Something about a tech cult and robots and suchlike. What matters is that there's a lot of hustle and folks aren't watching things too closely. Wouldn't steal something from Farsight or someone else in the squad these days, but some folks don't seem to be needing quite so much in the way of stuff.
Well, I've been trying not to steal from squadmates lately. It's tricky to remember sometimes when they get something fancy. But I usually give it back before they miss it these days. Old habits, I reckon.
Anyhow, we're heading in from the little assassination, which left us all feelin' as tuckered out as a clean-up crew the day after the war. Milo's listening to a holotape and swearin' under his breath enough to make you think Rage is riding in the trunk, and it's all just... depressing, if anyone wanted my opinion. Shaav's bein' all sad to make everyone feel better, even when you know he don't get any of it.
And then we're nearing home when Farsight spots something on the horizon and she starts swearing too.
"Mutants. A... They've got most of a company. We're fucked. Everyone is fucked."
Milo seemed to jolt right out with that, turned his little pip-boy off.
"No need to panic. We've... dealt with this kind of thing before."
I said something then
"Shucks. We've taken on more'n our share. What's a couple more."
"A platoon. Maybe two. I've never SEEN a company of anything before. And the ammo's in the trunk."
Well, Oliver was loading up her sniper rife then, and looking down the scope. Then she put the gun back.
"No issue. Drive on."
Most of us just stared at her then, but Milo tapped Shaav and we drove in.
The mutants were unarmed, and some of them were on the ground looking like prisoners but they all turned to stare at the hummer the second we got in sight. And one started chantin'. "GAMMORIN! GAMMORIN!" before one of the Paladins poked at him.
Another mutant with glasses went to talk to them both, then came running to our little hummer.
"They want to see Gammorin."
Well, Milo seemed to know him and he stepped out.
"The corpse is in the trunk, but showing it would be panic in the ranks. Pleasure to see you trying to make good."
"No, the... new Gammorin."
"Ah. Shaav, wave to your public while we talk about the issues of the day. Farsight, might as well be here. Babs, drive the car in. Tell Dekker I'll be along shortly."
And then we watch the few Paladins out there trying to keep all the mutants in line.
Milo came out a little later.
"Well, it turns out some mutants decided to go with us when things went bad. Emphasis on some. Not an organized threat at present, mission accomplished on that front, but we're going to need a garrison here when we go."
"And Shaav is very popular."
Farsight snorted a little then.
Stitch responded.
"Wait. We're moving again?"
"Fresh tech to the west in the hands of the unworthy. And... other things, on a need to know basis. Like the intel on Latham, we want to avoid a panic. Any details, and Rage or someone else might guess. Stitch, you're with the medical convoy."
"And the Mutants are staying behind."
"Some. Integrated units these days, changing times, kicking and screaming into the next century. Pack up. Stitch, you're riding with medical again."
Well, there we go. Right smack up to date. Other than the unguarded medical supply cupboards.
Why I fear the ocean.
I'm torn about new additions though. Each new race is awesome and makes the story that much better. The best part is the interactions between them. But I can't imagine losing any member of the current crew. And there's 3 more races.
Currently playing: GW2 and TSW
It's not AS easy as it looks. I'm reloading... well, reasonably often. Surprise M2s are nasty, and close quarters are deadly. But Farsight is a monster against them.
High AC, and an insane range with the sniper rifle. They can't hit at the ranges she engages at, so it's a sturdy game of shooting out the eyeballs.
Of course, when anyone else gets close, heh. Mutants are like the giants in the Silver Chair. The only safe place is where they're aiming. Everyone else is in trouble.
And Kansas City is turn based and filled with panic. Being cautious with M2 ammo didn't help there.
And, since I didn't mention it when it went down, the Shaav CSI Miami thing is kind of amazing. Good show.
Why I fear the ocean.
At the time, the Gammorin campaign was the worst thing to happen to our Brotherhood since the great crash and the exile. While the majority of our forces survived, they were mostly inexperienced, untrained tribals, Deathclaws, and others who we would have once rejected at best, and slaughtered had circumstances permitted. Our officer corps, the intelligence division, our engineers, they all were devastated by a handful of mutant attacks. John Milo may have been the most famous promotion in the wake of the Gammorin campaign, but he was hardly alone. Any tribal or other recruit who showed exceptional skill or valor went up the ladder much faster than ever before. We were desperate for veterans, and old order Paladins like Solo and Maximus were tasked to the limit until the conflict ended.
The Supermutant army broke with the death of the second Gammorin and the crowning of the third, a dynasty that continues to this day. With the mutants destroyed as an organized force, and most of the best loyal to the Brotherhood of Steel, the wastes finally breathed easily. Even in the Brotherhood, the worst was officially over. Latham's betrayal, the tremendous costs, anything that could destroy morale was swept aside.
But at the highest levels, and in the most trusted squads, some knew better. If the Mutants had been able to bring their full force against us, we would have been destroyed in days. The Menace from the West saved us for a time. But the enemy of my enemy is not a friend. Not an ally. They are a tool and a potential threat. Remember this in dealings with the Enclave or the lesser Brotherhoods. We give them shelter and technology, but that should not be mistaken for trust. The Elders set plans in play to protect against the encroaching robots, and prepared for the worst as we headed towards Vault Zero and the motherload.
At the time, one Mutant gave a terrifying story. He claimed to be the only remaining survivor of a trip into an underground facility that closely matched the descriptions of Vault Zero. Although the details were difficult to confirm, and the brotherhood of the time was loathe to trust Mutants, it claimed the robots had awakened when he and his brethren stepped inside. It was a possible hub for the new enemy, but the implications were horrible. Remember, this was before the Enclave showed itself to the wastes, and long, long before the Chicago Accords. The old world was a corpse. Vault Zero's new purpose was revenge from beyond the grave.
It was where the Brotherhood entered the War. And where we were almost destroyed.
And the original chapter ending text
Why I fear the ocean.