Let's Play Fallout 2: Can't escape anything in this town

chiasaur11

Chapter 5: 1,2,3,4,5 Senses working overtime. Trying to take this all in...

I am set for life.

Seriously, I have one, maybe two old debts to settle, a little work to finish back by Klamath, and I am sitting pretty in the most technologically advanced city on Earth.

Sure, most of the population? Kind of assholes. But I can live with that.



I'll admit, when I first got here? I didn't think much of it. Courtyard with people lying half dead, suffering from "evil spirits" (or something much more scientific and acceptable to a man of learning. Will have to ask the local doctors.)

I asked Vic if this was the standard.

"Well, Boss, for the outer perimeter? This is a good day. But Vault City itself is one of the fanciest places I've seen. "

"Better than Klamath? I doubt it."

He chuckled a little.

"Sometimes I forget how little you've seen of the world, Boss. Klamath isn't exactly important. Nice little place, but, again, little. "

"Wait. There's..."

"Anywhere in the NCR for a start, Boss."

Well, it sounded good. But I was trying to keep a low profile.



Unfortunately, some people naturally look like they're going to help you with whatever problem you have. Unfortunately, I am one of those people. Fifteen minutes in, I had fifteen or sixteen people asking me for help.

I suppose they were right, because I agreed.

Damn Arroyo, damn favor system, damn sucker me. But, it's all behind me. I'm retiring after one more job. Just clean slate, retirement in a rich community of total douchebags. Maybe buying a couple new guns from time to time. Get everyone working for me severance packages.



The gates were proof Vic was right. Huge turrets, automated door systems...

It was amazing. The guards said to find a day pass if I wanted in.



It was much easier than I expected. Apparently, they have ties to Vault 13 of some kind. The first citizen would be wanting to see me. Eventually. Well, they said immediately, but there were things to do before then.

Too many, really. But it gave me a chance to take in the sights.



They searched my supplies, but no-one else's. Odd, but there we are. Apparently, Vic has a daughter here. I let him go see her, and looked around.



The bars only have synthetic alcohol, which is a minor downside, but everything else makes up for it. Lights, greenery, food, it's amazing. I had to say Sulik was a servant when anyone else asked, of course.

It's embarrassing to have him around.



Did I mention the information center? They have an information center. Books! History! Maps!

East of here, apparently, there's just savages. At best, Mormons, whatever those are. Any further, and you have raiders, slavers, and mostly terrifying monsters. Green mutated freaks, Deathclaws, metal demons, and the like.

Basically, anywhere east of the Rockies is hell. I'm pretty sure. Makes here look even better.



Managed to talk the guards into letting some woman's husband go. He had "Theodore's Syndrome".

Honestly, it seems more likely the symptoms are being a sap who does any odd job someone asks, no matter the risk or financial cost.



I even find missing toys for children. WHO DOES THAT?

Anyway, once that was done, went to meet the First Citizen.



Or I was. Until I saw the citizenship test. If someone's smart enough, they said, they can become a citizen. Merit based system.

I was pretty sure I was smart enough.



I wasn't. Not quite. Just a few more hours...

Most people would give up. I would have, normally. But I'd heard stories of something called mentats when I was coming in, part of the guard's spiel. Mental accelerator drugs, banned in the city. And I saw a woman in the building had a pack.



She wasn't looking. Unfortunately, it was getting too late for a retest. I was booted out, and told to come back and talk in the morning. Eight hours sleep on cold dirt.

Then, a trip back in the city. I downed some of the Mentats. It gets a bit... blurry there. I mean, it was clear when I had the things, but now, less so.



I seem to have hired an old, bitter bartender.



I retook the test, passed with flying colors, and got admission to the "vault".



Cold, metal, impressive. I think I got a couple of magazines full of naked women and masturbated into a cup at one point. Somehow, this tied into getting an attractive nurse's phone number.

Another reason to love this city? I'm going to call it another reason to love this city.



Even got an improved map of the wastelands.

Just have to find the gecko trapper I promised to help a few weeks back, and everything's good.

Don't see what could go wrong!

Erlec

Nerivant wrote:

Elvenshae wrote:

Chiasaur for LP President!

But what if our Resident President is hesitant?

Then our Resident Hesitant President have to Represent his choices in this predicament!

P.s. Keep on trucking Chiasaur!

chiasaur11

Chapter 6: One good turn...

Why am I wrong so often?

Every "easy" job turns out to be anything but. Every time I get out, I wind up in something else.

I'm pretty sure the first words I can remember hearing were "Just this one last thing, Theodore, and we'll be done". It wasn't true then, and it isn't now.

So, I go off to help a trapper, because I said I'd take a look.



I get ambushed by Geckos. I put on boots. And get attacked by geckos. Find out we don't have enough to keep everyone in good gear. Get attacked by Geckos.



Get attacked by giant geckos.



Rescue trapper. Get attacked by Geckos.



Learn to skin Geckos. Get attacked by Geckos. Tell Sulik that he can go and look for his sister, since I'm retiring from adventuring. Wished him luck, gave him a severance bonus.

Got attacked by Geckos.

What I'm trying to say is, Geckos figured prominently into the whole mess. I was glad to get back to Vault City.



Helped someone in the courtyard with Radaway.



Bought someone a plow and got a Desert Eagle. Yes, life was looking up.

Then I hear Citizen Sargent Stark wanted to see me.



Oh, it started with small talk. Raiders approaching the walls from time to time, all the problems of Vault City. I nodded. It wasn't my concern.

"So, we'll be needing a specialist to go and scout out Gecko. Possible threat, radioactive groundwater."

"Oh. Well, if I see anyone needing work... I mean, who knows. Maybe some up and coming trader. Maybe let a Servant..."

"Funny, maggot. Really funny. I was thinking you."

"Well, that is exciting, but, you know, full citizen, passed the test fair and square, might consider it in the future, but right now..."

And then he smiled.

"Right. The test. The test that is, on good authority, impossible to pass. Now, Moore, I can't find out how he got through, but we revised it after. And First Citizen Lynette reported some mental enhancers missing. Some of us pay attention, unlike the dumbass tribals you grew up with. Do work when I ask, jump when I say how high, and maybe it'll all work out. If you don't push me."

And suddenly I'm being sent to hunt zombies in a radioactive pit.

This just gets worse and worse.

Mulletude

anoffday

I've put so many damn hours into FO3 and NV, but for some reason I can't get into FO1 and 2. I've tried both, numerous times. I want to like them. I really do, like more than any game, but I just can't get into them.

With FO2, it might have something to do with the fact that 1 out of 10 swings actually connect to those damn ants, and I'm reloading the game 5 times within the first 10 minutes. And that's if I even remember to save my game after finally killing one of them. People tell me they get better, but when the game is that damn frustrating in the first few minutes, it's really a buzz kill for me.

Gaming-Freak

lol, I like how you save Smiley for AFTER you went to Vault City. I'm surprised that poor Smiley didn't eat his dog... oh wait, he probably did.

chiasaur11

Chapter 7: Calls for another. And another. And another.

I am the worst at predicting the future. It's uncanny.

I can say "Well, I've been blackmailed into going to a radioactive wasteland filled with the undead. I guess this will be dangerous!" and it will, guaranteed, turn out to be a milk run.

This isn't an exaggeration. This isn't a hypothetical example. This is my life.



I went to Gecko for Stark, hoping it would square us. I see two shambling monsters, missing half their flesh.

And they waved and said hello before I could draw my gun.

Cassidy and Vic just kind of... stared. I can't say I blame them. I also might have asked them not to talk in town when we left the room. Tossing "zombie" around isn't the way to keep the natives friendly. Or maybe it is, I HAVE NO IDEA.

The wasteland is a continuous series of incoherent connections between action and consequence, a hell where action does not follow cause and the best intentions lead only to disaster.

...Anyway, they sent me to their leader. Guy named Harold.



He was even uglier than the other ghouls, had a tree growing out of his head, and pretty much constantly made bad jokes.

Eventually, I managed to get to the point.

"Vault City sent me to deal with... problems."

"So, they want us all dead. Can't say I'm surprised. Nice of you to give us warning first, smoothskin."

"No, I mean, they didn't say to kill anyone."

Aloud.

"Now that's a pleasant surprise. I guess you're here about the reactor leak. Or maybe you want our beauty secrets."

"Reactor leak."

"Well, we need a (some technical term. Wrote it down on a post-it that I can't find)".

"I'll get it. Thank you for your cooperation."

And more bad jokes before I left. So many more.



Met another few ghouls while leaving. One of them ran a store. He had a friend missing back in the Den (where people want to kill me) and asked me to investigate. In return, he gave me a ton of free anti-rad meds, sold goods at a net loss, and told me about this little town.

"Well, we used to live out of one of the old Vaults until it fell apart. Water ran out, mutants ran in, and we ran north. Not exactly a complicated story."

"Except all of you staying here while the plant leaks,"

"Radiation may bother you smoothskins, but we ghouls are used to it. It's not a bad life."

"And Vault city gets mad. I mean, it can't be much worse anywhere else, right?"

"You really think that Smoothskin? Here, we can run our own lives. Even in the NCR we're more or less second class citizens, much as Tandi tries to help, and everywhere else..."

The ghoul sighed.

"Well, shoot on sight isn't uncommon. There are stories of a paradise for us back east, where humans, ghouls, and mutants live in harmony."

"Why not go there, then?"

Away from us normal people? I mean, I'm not saying we should kill them all, but I'm pretty sure I prefer freakish undead abominations as far away as possible.

"Because the same people telling those stories talk about Deathclaws running hospitals, flying skulls, and the Vault Boy walking around shooting people. I think they just have good chems in that general direction. "

Well, it was worth a try.



Also learned to play Tragic. Apparently, the same people who told the shopkeep about the talking deathclaws told the local bartender about tournaments back East. Well, he's the only one playing it here, other than me.

Simple rules.

Each player gets six cards, except for the player on the dealer's right, who gets seven. The second card is turned up, except on Tuesdays. Two jacks are a "half-fizzbin" which can be tapped for double energy, but a third jack is a "shralk" and is grounds for disqualification. With two jacks, one wants a king and a deuce, except at night, when one wants a queen and a four.

I tried to teach Cassidy, but he threatened to beat me up if I kept going.

Went back to vault city. Got the part and a toolkit for another ghoul.



Got the part installed. Traded the toolkit for car parts and modifications for an assault rifle I bought here, my desert eagle, and a .44.

Unfortunately, I need to go to the hub to get a car. And I want a car.

I am going to get shot at a lot before getting back to Vault City.

chiasaur11

Chapter 8: Heroic bloodshed.

Alright. Returning to the den? It's changed from "shouldn't" to "can't".



On the way over, Vic, Cassidy, and me? We were ambushed by slavers. I tried to start conversation (How's slaving? Boy, sucks to be a slave, huh? I hear Vault City pays well for this sort of thing, does that match your experience? Please don't shoot me.)

They responded by shooting at me and calling me a "fucking do-gooder!"

I like to think I do more good than harm, but COME ON. I'm a do-neutral at best. I save people's lives when someone pays me, sure. And I may have technically committed several acts of charity. At bare minimum, I commit charity in my heart when I see orphans sometimes. And alright, people come to me for help and I don't turn them down.

But I ruin local ecosystems with bullets! When I've dealt with the slave trade in the past, it's been paying slavers good cash for merchandise. And I've been trying to live in Vault City, where, I am assured, everyone is an asshole. I am not a good person and should not be treated as such.

But no. They shot at me, I shot at them, and they all died, so I'm just Moses-ing or Lincoln-ing or whoever it was who shot lots of slavers. There are stories about it.



The den wasn't much better. I went to Metzger to try to clear things and/or find out where the ghoul was. I went over as politely as possible, hands in the air.

Guess what happened next. Go on. Guess.



Bullets flying everywhere, I'm lucky to be alive, lot of people aren't lucky.



And I free more slaves, looking more like a hero, furthering the cycle. I cannot wait until I can just sit on my ass in Vault City, looking down on outsiders. (And I managed to check a database. My pre-mentats score is the best non-passing in the history of the city. If the test could be passed, I would have passed it.)

Pretty soon, I'm making plans to run for anywhere else.



A guy in a suit who I vaguely remember stops me to give me a couple thousand and some energy cells. I have no idea why. I guess something about not breaking his kneecaps for money? As I said, cause and effect seem to have gone mad.



Finish a last job. Get a 1,000 dollar bonus for killing Metzger. Somehow.



Find the ghoul. Watch him run. Get more people wanting to kill me.



Shove money at a mechanic until I can start driving away.

I found Sulik on the way back. He thought his sister might have gone south-east. Gave him a ride.

I wish I could say it's all behind me, but I have a feeling it'll just get worse.

Cutfang

Wee! Brilliant stuff. The acquisition of money and guns pleases me greatly.

yalborap

Ah, the tragic fate of the protagonist. Doomed to be a hero simply because he's the one doing everything.

chiasaur11

Chapter 9: The fine points: diplomacy, compassion, standards, manners, tradition... that's what we're reaching toward.

Got back to Vault City a couple weeks ago in the Highwayman. Told Stark that everything was set up right.

"Glad to hear that, Citizen. I got you a license for some heavier firepower. Feel free to take a break before heading back out."

"Wait. Back? I thought..."

"You thought wrong. Vault City still needs you, and I'm sure you want to do right by Vault City. Besides, should be a milk run. We need you to scout out the NCR and report back."

"But... ghouls! Super mutants!"

"Apparently, they won't shoot at you. Just take a look around, and I'll 'forget' about your little indiscretions. After that, as long as you don't kill any citizens, I do not give a rat's fucking ass what you do. If I did, your barfly friends would be stone cold sober, or did you think you could keep that secret?"

"I don't know what..."

"Of course not. Shit, I hate dealing with you borderline tribal fuckwits."

"Fuckwit? Remind me, which one of us is the glorified rent-a-cop, and who's the second person to pass the Vault City entrance exam?"

"Oh, right. The impossible one. Remind me, how come no-one in the most advanced city in the wasteland can pass?"

"Beats me, man. Beats me why most dudes suck. Sure as hell ain't my scene. Are we done?"

"Two weeks, at most. Then I send the guards. Until then, enjoy yourself."

I guess I did.



Bought a new combat shotgun and some armor.



Got a medical degree (with a focus on tribal medicine and why it is the worst thing ever) from the Vault City doctor. Sat through Cassidy's bitching about being back in this rotten town.

And got another job from a local crazy person.

"Friend! Do you hate slavery?"

"Well, every slaver I've met..."

"Ah, I can see it in your eyes. The burning love of human freedom, the desire for justice, the $2,000 bounty on your head with the slaver's guild..."

"2,000 bucks? Wait. People are... I mean..."

"You would love to help the NCR, and by extension all of California, I trust?"

"Yes, assuming it means people will stop trying to kill me, and/or it pays well."

"Baser motives than I would expect of a hero."

"Yes, well, not. What's the job?"

"Take this briefcase to John Bishop in New Reno. He'll know what to do. It should be on your route."

"Alright? Sure. Briefcase."

And he shuffled off. I have no idea how he made Citizen.

Anyway. Gang, car, went south.



First impressions of the NCR weren't too good, I admit. Oh, they had a good weapons vender (SO GOOD. I couldn't afford half of the things he was selling, but some day I will come back and get a Bozar and a Jackhammer.), but it was dusty, grimy, full of the poor and wretched, ect, ect. I paid two separate people to watch my car. (Figure they'd be too busy squabbling over the take to steal it, even if the "upgrades" were a cover story.)



They even had slave pens. I assumed the whole major threat thing was a joke, and the whole nicest people in the wasteland was a sicker one. Then I saw the actual city. Had to holster all my weapons going in.



Wow. I mean, Vault CIty and here? About even in living accommodations, but the numbers here seemed... more.

Vault City had a few hundred people, counting the outskirts. Here, everything said thousands.

Thousands.

Until I left arroyo, I doubted there were that many people in the world. A woman ran at me asking for help with... something.



Someone had a gun and some C4 and was yelling about how he was going to blow up the power grid, his ex-wife was a bitch, and so on.

(The city has a power grid. Not just some generators, but a whole thing! I mean, they allow mutants, but there's tradeoffs everywhere)

I'm not an expert negotiator, but I gave it a try.

"I'M SERIOUS!"

"Will you be done soon?"

"WHAT?"

"I kinda don't give a shit. So you're going to be a pussy, let Mira win, and then I fix the thingy. Or something. Look, I've had a lot of crap to deal with these last few days, and I'm kind of busy, so let's keep things moving. I mean, she'll be laughing on your casket, but, as I said, shits not given, job to do, time-a-wasting."

"But, I mean..."

"I wish I could say people'll notice, but nothing leans that way. And between you and me, I've had to deal with so many of these things lately I'll be surprised if I could pick your face out of a pile of photos by later tonight. Shame, Mira getting away with it. She sounds like a bitch."

"She is."

"Well, if I was in your position, I'd put the bombs down, take the time in prison, can't be too long if you cooperate, and then sue her for mental distress. Probably won't be a win, but it'll tie her assets up for years if I remember my lawbooks right."

(I haven't read any)

He put the C4 down. Which gave Cassidy an opportunity to deck him. Crisis averted.

As the woman (Dorothy, as it turns out) was thanking me for saving the day, I decided to ask if there was a GECK anywhere in town. I mean, no love lost leaving Arroyo, but if I could have one sent up, well, it would end that set of obligations forever.

"Sorry, we don't have one anymore. Maybe the Brotherhood would know. If not, the Rangers might have seen one somewhere. They tend to be the most well traveled people I've met."

"Thank you."

Cassidy had to speak up then.

"Well traveled means they've been ten feet outside the borders? No offense, but I haven't met many NCR types who weren't sheltered as fuck. Good if you like civilization, no mistake, but some of us have seen the world."

He chuckled for a second

"And get the scars to prove it. Well, the kid here doesn't, but you don't stay lucky forever."

"Well, I can't say, but they seem to have been around. Some more than others."

"Brotherhood first, got to be going, and if you need any help, ask Vic."

"Giving me vacation time, Boss?"

"Can't think of a reason not to. Goes for all of you."

"Grampy bone be saying my sister's not here. No reason to go away. "

"Well, great. Cassidy?"

"And miss you making an ass of yourself in front of the Rangers or vice-versa? Can't think of a reason to do that."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot."



I met with the Brotherhood of Steel first. (Apparently, that's who the asshole from the den worked for.) And it went great. (For all the tribals in the audience, that's sarcasm.)

"So, uh, I hear you guys have old world tech."

"True enough. And we hear much about you, young Theodor. You may be a small fish in a large pond, but you make many ripples. Tread with care."

"A bit hard with all these assholes shooting at me. You have a GECK? You see..."

"Even if we did, it would be foolhardy to give to a tribal village now. Technology needs wisdom in its application, and right now anything that stands out... I've said too much. I wish you luck."

"That's it? Really?"

He just stood there silently.

I flipped him the bird and walked away.

"Good choice, Boss, talking to them."

"Shut it, Vic."

"At least you know they're assholes, Boss."

"Knew it before, Vic."



Ranger center went better.

Pictures don't do it much justice. There were fifteen, twenty people, all going about with purpose. Even the garage had an annex larger than most homes back in Arroyo. There were all kinds of men, women, ghouls and mutants there, checking an arsenal of weapons and armor that looked better than the stuff the gun dealers outside had.

Well, it explained the worries back in Vault City, anyway.

I approached the woman who seemed to be in charge.

"Um, I hear Rangers tend to... travel."

She turned to look at me.

"Wherever there's injustice, kid. You, the tribal or the old farts want to join?"

"Uh, no. Not right now. Just wanted to know if you'd seen a GECK anywhere. Struggling farm community, drought, you know the story."

"All too well. Considered joining the NCR?"

"I wish we could. No, leadership would never go for it."

"Well, I haven't seen one. Only person that might is the Vet. She should be at the firing range. Older woman, missing an eye, shouldn't be hard to find. And if you change your mind about joining, well, the Rangers will always have a place for the man who killed Metzger."

"Wait. You..."

"Mom said to pay attention when I was a kid. I guess I took it to heart. Luck."

The range wasn't hard to find. Just follow the gunfire and try not to go deaf. The Vet, whatever her name was, had a corner booth.

She didn't look as old as dear old mom or the "today" pictures of the President of the NCR in the brochures I grabbed in the lobby (Whose age, I am pretty sure, is legally listed as "dead"), but she definitely wasn't young. Scars, the aforementioned missing eye, either she was clumsy or she'd been in more stupid fights than I had. Maybe less than Cassidy, though.

Everybody looks like they've been in less stupid fights than Cassidy.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?"

Click.

Bang.

Bullseye.

Then the click of an old hunting rifle going on the rack.

"What?"

"I heard you've been around."

And Cassidy decided to be an asshole.

"Maybe all the way north to the Den."

She gave Cassidy the nastiest stink eye I could imagine, before taking in a breath.

"Reno, Chicago, Fargo, Minnesota, Buffalo, 'Ronto, Winslow, Sarasota, Wichita, Tulsa, Ottawa, Oklahoma, Tampa, Panama, Mattawa, La Paloma, Bangor, Baltimore, Salvador, Amarillo, Tocapillo, Baranquilla, and Perdilla. I'm a killer. Everywhere."

"Bullshit."

"I'll give you Panama. The rest I'm keeping. Why are you asking?"

"I wondered if you've seen a GECK anywhere. It's a humanitarian job."

And then she turned to me, looking me up and down while I tried to avoid staring.

"Not for a long time. Not one you could use. Where'd you hear about those? You aren't a Vaultie. Don't try lying, I've heard it from experts."

"Grandparents were from a Vault. We kept some old ads. And you're sure?"

"Trust me, the ones I've found are used up. You're better off moving. "

"Well, thank you for your time."

I was ready to go, but Cassidy kept pressing the issues.

"Midwest? I heard it's nothing but storms and death. Always wanted to see for myself."

"Just the Divide. Rest is better these days. And you should."

"Worth settling down in?"

"Your choice, not mine. Good if you can hack it. I couldn't."

"I've nearly managed it in the past. If Vault City's ruling class wasn't 99.8% asshole, it could have worked."

"Agreed on nearly. Married. Knocked up. He died a week later, and it turns out I don't like kids better if they're mine. Left him to be raised by simple farmers or Deathclaws, whichever came first, started walking further and further. Eventually, I didn't go back. Not Job, but it seemed a good fucking sign that I wasn't meant to die in a bed surrounded by smiling grandkids."

"Pretty shitty way to bring up a kid."

"Yup. Don't let the door hit you."

We were heading out the door when she shouted something at me.

"Hey, kid?"

I turned.

"Heard about the Den. Seen a lot of idiots who want to be the next Vault Dweller since arriving in the NCR. Haven't met many people who could manage the job if they had to. You might."

"Thanks?"

"Just don't die, and I'm pretty sure Elise'll always have a spot for you."

Click. Gun out. Click. Boom. Bullseye.

"I wouldn't, considering you make as much noise walking around as a herd of angry Brahmin, and couldn't survive three weeks away from civilization, but some people are soft. Viya deo."

Met Elise again on the way out.

"Still sure you don't want a job? It's honest work. Helps people. And there's nothing more respected than a Ranger badge anywhere from here to the Boneyard."

"Alright, fine. What would I have to do?"

"Nothing much. Slave pens opened north of here, just outside city limits. Technically, it's a legal enterprise until they cross the border. Any other standard, it's a slap in the face. Talk him into letting them go, sneak in and break open the pens, or, if you don't have another choice, kill the boss and anyone stupid enough to side with him, then free the slaves. Not the best option, considering your lack of citizenship, but it's the right thing. You in?"

"I'll look into it."

"Here's your pin. Treat it like a loaded gun. Keep it concealed unless you need it, know where it is at all times, and if you try to cause trouble with it in the NCR, you're a dead man."

"Got it."



I found the slavers just outside town.

"So, what are you here for?"

"Work, sort of."

"Good. You heard of the Rangers? These do-gooder assholes, they..."

"Well, I do know them."

"Better. They have a map of safehouses. Get that for me..."

"No, I meant they sent me to talk to you about something."

"Oh."

He turned to one of the guards.

"Waste him"



I wish I could be surprised. Good news?



Freed the slaves. Bad news, I'm probably wanted in another town. I had a job in New Reno. Maybe folks will find someone else to blame before I try to come back.

Ha.

Elvenshae

Still diggin' the LP.

There was a decided lack of new guns in the last update. I suspect Teddy is less than pleased.

Botznoy

Totally spotted your subtle plug about your old LP.

Legend

chiasaur11

Chapter 10: Fun, yes, but by no means civilized.

Okay, back in the NCR. Most folks here don't know how lucky they are.

For example, they don't need to join a mob to get protection after a simple misunderstanding. In fact, the guards seem rather calm about that kind of thing, now that I've talked to them.

Getting ahead of myself.

So, right. Went to New Reno for a simple bit of work.



I really shouldn't have left the car alone. But, other cars, nice parking lot, immediately approached by hookers and drug dealers, immediately trying to keep Cassidy from a fight with aforementioned drug dealers...

Bit distracted, all I have to say. I decided that we should probably find something else to do. Quickly.

I went for the first thing I saw.

"Cassidy! Boxing! You like hitting things, right? Boy, boxing, that looks great."



"Never been a fan. It isn't real bare-knuckle fighting."

"Come on, it's beating the shit out of people. You love that!"

"Too many rules. The good fights, the ones worth the time? Only rule is no guns, don't try to kill anyone, and let the other guy go if he says uncle. Once got into a fight with a couple hundred guys. Big mess, but everyone alive at the end loved it. Three days of bloodshed. Boxing? Boxing a guy like you could last. "

"Oh. How's it pay?"

"Varies. Big place like this, it's good money. Hell, I'd bet on you. "

It was all I needed to go to the promoter.

"Can I get in for a quick match?"

He looked me up and down.

"Credentials?"

"Uh, I come from a town north of here, been in my share of fights, I'm a licensed medical doctor in Vault City..."

"Wait. A Vault City doctor? You're fucking with me. What the hell are you running from?"

"Just could use the cash."

"Sure. You're 'Doctor Fist', and your first match is in an hour. Nothing below the belt, no kicking, no weapons, keep your gloves on."

I went to Cassidy.

"What can you teach me about boxing in an hour?"

He punched me in the head.

"Thus ends the lesson."

"OW! What the fuck was that?"

"Proof you're not going to have much trouble. You can take a punch like a champ, you're normally fast enough to duck fights, and now I've reminded you of the basic strategy of hitting them in the head. Good luck."



Five minutes later, I was in an enclosed space with a borderline stranger, much bigger than me, who wanted nothing more out of life than to beat the living shit out of me in front of a cheering crowd.

Basically, my childhood, but without my mom disapproving of my weakness.



And I didn't end the day sobbing into my hands as family members spit in my general direction. Instead, I was paid.

One more round, drinks for everyone from the concessions stand, and I remembered the delivery to Bishop's.

Talked to the boxing promoter to hear he's at the Shark club.

Not much of a place. Shitty standup comic, weird machines where people insert money, pull a lever, and swear in disappointment. Figured the real action was in the basement.



No. Just a boxer in a cage who looked entirely psychotic, and some gloves with plates in them for better face punching. Cassidy said to grab them, I obliged.

Came in handy later.

Someone came down, said the Boss wanted to see me. I headed up the stairs, ready to do my job and go, telling everyone else to wait outside. Pure professionalism.



Then I saw her. Angela Bishop.

If a perfect ten was a perfect goddess descending buck-naked from the heavens, she was, bare minimum, a solid seven.

I said hello.

She asked if I wanted to fly.

It... gets a bit hazy from there. And really, it would be impolite to talk.

But it ended with John Bishop busting down the door and waving a gun in my face.



"Uh, well, that was YOUR daughter? Ha! That's funny, because, um... that wasn't me? It was some other guy."

I've had better lies. So many.

"Give me one reason not to kill you right now. ONE."

"I have a delivery from Vault City? Thomas Moore said you wanted it. Also, again, the other guy is getting away right now. Whoever that handsome bastard is."

"Moore? Hmm. You have brought shame to my family, and I cannot forgive that easily."

"Well, it looked like mutual shaming. When that guy did it. How I hate him."

"On the other hand, you could be useful. You know a man named Westin, in the NCR?"

"Yes, sorta. Politician, Brahmin rancher. Sounds like a nice enough guy."

"Kill him. Five hundred caps in it for you."

Five hundred? Really? It was an insult. I've made more money from people trying to kill me. And those people didn't live on a heavily guarded ranch with electric fences.

"I'm not an assassin, sir. I mean, I'd love to help you out in this sad time, which I had nothing to do with, as attractive as your daughter is, but I don't go around killing people for money. Also, the pay? Really? I get more in the ring."

Just on accident, or in self defense. Over 20 times now.

"You're a boxer?"

"Yes. Maybe the best."

"Get to the championship. Win. Throw the next fight, let me clean up.. Maybe we'll be even."



It didn't take long. Apparently, there's no real schedule. Just tell the champ "Hey, want to fight?"

I was feeling pretty badass.



Then I saw Bishop's man. The monster from the shark club basement. Mountain of muscle and anger issues.

Somehow, saying "I surrender"? It wouldn't work. "Throwing" the fight would mean dying. Horribly.

So, I thought for a second about the rules, and ways out that wouldn't mean my death.

He dove at me. I kicked him in the balls.

I lose!

He falls over in pain, and is declared champion. Then a man in a business suit walks over from ringside.

"Mr. Bishop wants you to know, you have 24 hours. Then it's open season."

It got better from there. Ref said I'd crippled the challenger for life, so I got the champ title back by default, which doesn't make me look any better in front of Bishop.



And when I talked to Vic about what open season was, he whistled.

"How'd you mess up that bad, boss? Every button-man in New Reno will want you dead."

"I may have been accused, completely without proof, damn my long lost identical twin, of kind of... having sex with Angela Bishop."

"The most fertile sands in the wasteland? Boss, for your sake, I hope you brought a condom."

"What's a condom?"

"If anyone asks, Boss, I don't know you. Don't think Bishop will let this one go easily."

"Any way out?"

"Maybe joining one of the other three families. Other than that, Boss, you're a dead man walking."

Cassidy just gave me a cigar and called me a brave son-of-a-bitch.

Apparently, the four families were the Mordinos (who hate me for disrupting the slave trade), the Salvatores (who did not need my help at this time, apparently have a deal going that supplies them more muscle than they need and also? I stole a laser gun on the way out from a shelf. Whoever they're working with has some serious firepower.) and the Wrights (who didn't hate me yet)



I went to meet the Wrights immediately. Big place, lots of kids running around, smell of booze in the air.

Cassidy was smiling, which isn't normal for him

"My kind of people here. Good booze, no chems beyond stims, not total jackasses."

"Can you get me in?"

"You're the New Reno heavyweight champ. It opens doors."

He was right. All I had to do was say "Here to help" and the man by the door rushed back.

"Dad, Doctor Fist is here! The boxing champ!"

Unfortunately, the head of the family Wright was less enthusiastic.

"We don't need an endorsement from no damn tribals."

"No, that's not what I'm here for. You see, Mr. Bishop was after me, and I could use protection."

"So you went to the most powerful family in New Reno? Good choice. Well, there is one thing..."

They weren't. In fact, the Wrights were only my choice as every other power block in town, at best, wouldn't mind seeing me dead, but I nodded along.

Apparently, one of his sons had been murdered via jet overdose. He suspected the Mordinos, the family that invented Jet.

If we hit the local dealers, we should be able to find the man who forced it on him.

I'd heard Jet is incredibly addictive, so I thought a standard overdose was possible, but it was poor politics to say.

My plan was simple. Grill every dealer, carefully weigh the evidence, and then come forward with the verdict. Found the empty vial in a back room. Poisoned. It would require forensics, but that wouldn't be too hard.



Cassidy favored an even simpler plan. Beat the shit out of the biggest dealer, and force him to tell where he got the poisoned jet from.

I can't say it was the plan I would have gone with, but it got results.

Apparently, the Salvatores were behind it. Big plan to get every other family offed in a gang war. And let their backers, whoever they are, roll in. The kids outside had apparently seen them meeting with "Metal bugs" to buy laser weapons. Case closed!

No follow up, because the Salvatores could kill everyone with no effort, because they have lasers. The end, no moral.

At least I get protection from Bishop's men. All I really cared about.



Got directions to an out of town old army base as a request after. Will have to look into it.

If I get back alive, apparently, I can join the family. On the to-do list.

First, I'd want to go back to the NCR. Warnings to give, even if they'd hate me. I found an arms dealer for some upgrades, just in case (and got better stuff in the basement for free (including an improved laser pistol))

But...



My car was stolen. I was still staring in disbelief when Cassidy was beating the shit out of an onlooker.

"I have... OW... No... idea.... OW!"

"THINK HARDER."

"Alright! Alright! They took it to the old chop shop outside town! It's all I know!"

We followed him outside town, and Cassidy was nice enough not to shoot him when he bolted.

They wanted the car for Bishop and wouldn't believe I was here to pick it up.



I decided to just shove money at the problem. Had enough from boxing to do that. Then, drive like hell.

Sitting just outside the NCR now, hoping there's not a warrant for my arrest.

Also, I need to ask about the metal bugs. I mean, what the hell.

Bursar

Cassidy was in the Great Outdoor Fight?

yalborap

That was the greatest thing.

Nerivant

Doctor Fist: Amateur Proctologist

chiasaur11

Chapter 11: There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Killing slavers outside NCR city limits?

Technically, not a crime! So, I'm still a ranger. On the other hand, it turns out being a Ranger means being a part of a chain of command, filing reports, and so on.

Apparently, this is, by NCR official job standards, paperwork light employment. Finally found the catch to living here. Okay, Vault City is pretty paperwork-y as well. Civilization has a cost.

Right. Details.

Went to Ranger center, hoping the guards wouldn't notice me. Got a nod from the ghoul at the front desk.

"Saw the bodies, rookie. Not how all of us would handle it, but it sends a helluva message. Elise wants to see you for the whole new Ranger talk. Don't fall asleep."

"So, no-one wants me dead or arrested?"

"Not in the NCR, Doc."

I nodded back and went to talk to the woman in charge.

"Heard you caused some trouble in New Reno. Made life more difficult for slavers, moved hearts and minds a little our way..."

"All in the line of duty."

"Made deals with mob bosses, SLEPT WITH THEIR DAUGHTERS, AND GOT YOUR FACE PLASTERED ALL OVER THE NEWS LIKE A MORON FOR A COUPLE BUCKS IN THE BOXING RING!"

"Would you believe that was someone else?"

"No. Care to provide an excuse?"

"Alright, I had to get close to Bishop so he'd tell me what he was up to. And nobody thinks of the boxing champ as a spy."

"Alright, 'spy', what did you find out?"

One, Angela Bishop is worth every STD risk. Two, the Wright family makes good booze. Three, that isn't what the Rangers want to hear. Go for the security stories. The reason you came back.

"Okay, let's see. There's an old military base north of New Reno. Unlooted. Supposedly, it has whatever you need. Plasma, combat armor, sniper rifles, the works. Only no-one has gotten in alive."

"Huh. Okay, that's your assignment now, if you want it. Anything else?"

"Bishop's a backstabbing bastard, and hired me to kill Westin. So, you know, official deals with him, we should call them off."

"What I've been saying for years. But it's a little more evidence. You'll want to tell President Tandi about that."

"Oh, and the Salvatores have a deal with human sized metal bugs to control the region. Or something. I think I saw some guys sorta looking like that out in the wasteland mowing down scientists with miniguns."

"Wait. Power armor?"

"I guess?"

I'd never heard Elise swear, which put her in a minority category. She kept up the pattern, but her mouth went through the motions for "Fuck" "Shit" and "Motherfucker" fairly quickly.

"I'm getting the Vet and anyone else with relevant experience. Follow me. Leave everyone else outside, this is barely Ranger business, and definitely not for civilian ears."

And five minutes later I'm in front of a roomful of very concerned looking mutants, with a handful of humans around the fringes.

"Alright, some of you have met Theodore here before, most of you haven't. He's new here, but he's making a reputation. Came here to tell us a story from New Reno."

"Uh... the Salvatores apparently are buying lasers from people in power armor, who killed some scientists a while back out in the wastes. That's it."

I have never heard so many variations on the word "fuck" before in my life. Eventually, they died down, and one of the mutants raised a hand.

"Grot know steel-people hunt mutants, but Grot thought steel-people like other not-steel people."

"FERG KNEW STEEL-PEOPLE LIE!"

I raised my hand in response.

"Uh, what's going on here?"

Elise was kind enough to give it to me straight.

"You know the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Uh, the weird cryptic guys who keep telling me to keep my head down?"

"I guess. They're a group of techno-hermit types, as far as I know. Give old world tech to the NCR and small communities with instructions when they prove themselves worthy of it. Helped fight Supermutants when they were trouble. And the only people who have Power Armor. Don't know why they'd be doing this sort of thing, always been on the side of the angels as far as I've seen, but it's going to be a diplomatic shitstorm."

One of the mutants spoke up again. Seemed smarter than the other ones.

"Brotherhood exiled hardliners decades back. Sent them East. They could be doing it."

People started nodding. It sounded good to me, at least. I mean, hardliners when left to echo chamber can get crazy.

But the Vet spoke up, staring a hole into... everything.

"No. Chance. In. Hell. "

She coughed a little, then continued.

"Every story I've heard says they wouldn't be this subtle. They want people to know when they're making a move."

Elise responded.

"Alright, we'll keep that under consideration. Both of you. Dismissed."

And everyone started to file out. I turned to Elise.

"So... what am I expected to do?"

"Nothing. This goes way above your head, so don't worry about it. Talk to the President, report on the military base. This is Ranger work, and it's only that because the groups better armed than us happen to be the primary suspects. You're, no offense, a Tribal less than a year away from hunting Geckos with sticks. Eventually, I'm sure you'll do us proud. Right now, you run a fair chance of being a liability. Dismissed."

Well, I nodded, saluted, and went to the President's office, where the receptionist passed me a form to make a claim for ownership of a pre-war heritage site.

When I mentioned the Bishop thing, he just shrugged.

"I'll pass that on."

I picked up Cassidy, Vic, and Sulik, then went north.



When I got to the gate, I realized I may have been too quick to say I could clear out the base.

Much too quick. Bodies everywhere. Armor with holes punched in it the size of a fist.

I am really glad for scopes on rifles, all I can say.



It let me hit the turrets from outside their effective range, shutting down the sensors and getting into the perimeter.



It took a Howitzer shell to break down the door, which was a pretty good sign I'd want whatever was in here.



It was pretty impressive. Combat armor. Pre-war combat armor, with multi-weave defensive structure, onboard combat analysis, aiming help...

I love combat armor.



Less fond of robots. Barely fought through those with everyone at their best. It kind of made us gunshy about security then on.



More deeper in. Inactive, but terrifying.



They guarded a Plasma Caster and two more sets of combat armor. It was more than enough to justify the whole trip. Know someone up in New Reno who could upgrade it to a turbo. Of course, it is absurdly heavy, which made using it a bit of a pain, but there's a price for everything.

Heck, between it, the Bozar I got in the NCR, and the Jackhammer, I'm better armed than most cities. Hooray for scrounging.

Went out in a hurry, in case the robots woke up. Went back to the NCR.

Rangers told me to go to the president, and they didn't have any updates on the whole "The most well-armed organization in the world is doing something nefarious." thing, so I went.

She had a job for me. Go talk to some squatters. Get some computer parts. Help the NCR expand. And so on.

Apparently, and this isn't my business, the NCR grew out of an old vault, but they abandoned it decades back. Squatters moved in just as the NCR went, roughly "What the hell were we thinking? That's a Vault, full of juicy pre-war tech!"

So, they need a diplomat who knows how to handle a gun when things get rough. Thanks to my work in Reno, or the version I told the Rangers, I made the short list.

I loaded up and went with the guys expecting a bustling metropolis. One GECK would turn Arroyo's deserts to farmland, supposedly. The NCR only needed a handful of computer chips to succeed. Vault City is, well, Vault City.

If it came to a fight, I'd probably be in trouble.



Instead, I found a dirt farm. It made Arroyo look like Vault City. I tried to avoid laughing as I was warned not to cause trouble.

"Look, I have pre-war combat armor, everyone here has automatic shotguns and high powered pistols, and the trunk of that car has enough firepower to level New Reno. If I wanted to cause trouble, this place would be a crater. No, I'm just here to talk."

"Which is why you brought all those guns."

"I just feel naked without them."

"Sure."

"It's a real condition! If you find a psychologist, he could confirm it!"

Cassidy just stared.

"That's more than anyone wanted to know. Ever."

"Just... go."

Another glowing success.



It was followed, in short order, by a woman running up to me and asking me to save her daughter.

Well, being a beloved hero of the community couldn't hurt when asking for favors. I got the situation in town (Raiders running everything and lying about it, fairly simple) and went off to play hero.



I even gave the kidnappers a chance to leave, no hard feelings. In one case, it took. She left, don't know where.



The second case, well, it went worse. Oh, it started well.

"Let her go, or things get messy."

"Why should I?"

"Ah! An excellent question. The reason is as follows. I am carrying a Winchester P94 Plasma Rifle, a weapon whose only downside is a tendency to, how can I put this, reduce a target to a pile of goo. They eventually left military use because there was nothing that required that level of force. It's right here."

"You're bluffing."

"Maybe. Care to find out? It isn't much effort to just let the girl go. And even if I was, those are combat shotguns my friends are carrying"



He handed me the key. I nodded.

"Thank you, on behalf of the NCR Rangers."

Then... things got messy.

"You're with the NCR?"

"Boss, that might not be the best..."

"I didn't say I was an NCR grunt. I said Ranger. Best of the best, deadlier than a Deathclaw."

And then it just turned into a gunfight. Sometimes, I forget to shut up.



He was right. I bluffed. I can't use a plasma rifle for shit.

Don't need to when a fully automatic combat shotgun does the same job faster. Took the key, opened the door.

And had a knife jammed in my face.



"Bow tie?"

"Yeah, you know, the little ties you wear with a..."

"I know what a bow tie is. I just didn't know why you used that metaphor. Also, not a rapist. NCR Ranger, here on a heroic rescue."

"That some sick sex fantasy?"

"No. Could you move your knife away from my eyes?"

She did, with some reluctance, and explained what I already knew. The raiders were just using the squatters as a friendly face, and didn't have the Vault working. They hated the NCR and were stealing from it to make themselves look good in front of the squatters. Simple enough.

I went to the leader of the squatters, passed on the story, gave a diplomatic offer (farming support for the Vault and its old world tech), and got the key for the Vault. Easy.



I stayed as far away from the Raiders there as possible, and kept the Ranger pin hidden. Turns out, they don't ask many questions if you have a shotgun out and claim to be "The new guy. Darion called me in to get shit done."



It was a sight in there, and no mistake. Old world tech, even when it isn't running, beats anything Arroyo had. There was a doctor inside, prisoner from Vault City. I tried not to get involved.



Just grabbed anything inside. Porn magazines, new guns,



And the chips Tandi wanted. Job well done.



Even the location of the Holy 13! If anywhere'd have a GECK, it'd be them. Unfortunately, on the way out, I met Darion.



The phrase "Bugfuck nuts" was relevant. He assumed I was here to kill him, accused my family line of killing the Khans, and so on and so forth.



He died. His guards died. I recovered some incriminating documents from his computer and then prepared a story about an incredibly elaborate murder-suicide.

...They didn't buy it. Sulik, Cassidy, Vic, and I had to run out very, very quickly.

But we succeeded.



The deal went through, and everyone alive is happy. Guess I don't need to know what's going down with power armored maniacs in Reno. Just need to keep doing my job.

I like that idea. Just another jerk with a gun, drawing a salary. Maybe I can force Vault City into the NCR, retire easier.

And rub it into Mom's stupid tribal face.

Nerivant

"NCR Ranger, here on a heroic rescue."

"That some sick sex fantasy?"

Oh god, that was beautiful.

yalborap

You are truly amazing, Chia.

Xenogear_0001

This has kept me entertained all day at work, and for that, Chia, I salute you. This is one of the best LP's I've read. Wish I could awesome an entire thread.

chiasaur11

Chapter 12: New California Ranger, wouldn't be too long in town

Alright, seems I have a reputation.

I guess this is a good thing. Won't make the Rangers tell me jack/shit about the whole Brotherhood of Steel mess, but other than that, I'm trusted or feared up and down the state. Not bad for an exiled tribal.

So, told the Rangers I did a job for Tandi. Elise just nodded.

"Good. Wouldn't expect less. We've got our hands full between the current situation and keeping the slavers down, so there's a job for you. Heard of a little town called Redding?"

"Maybe? I guess? Gold and jet or something."

"Good enough. The sheriff needs help keeping order, asked for a Ranger. Town is at a crossroads, and if you can slide it in our direction..."

"Got it. So... anything else I should know?"

"Local miners have reported some kind of monster in the area. There's some pretty nasty things in the Wasteland. Ever heard of Deathclaws?"

"No."

Cassidy and Vic stared at me then. Cassidy spoke first."

"Sheltered, aren't you? Alright, a Deathclaw is everything that wants to kill you going and fucking everything that can. Bigger'n a man in power armor, meaner'n hell, with claws longer than your arm. Go far enough from civilization, you've got even odds of finding a hive, and then you'll die. Lot of other nasty things out there, but Deathclaws are the worst. Only seen one, from a mile away, and I'm still lucky to be alive."

"They aren't Deathclaws. Don't know what they are, but that should be a relief."

I bought an old BB gun on the way out of town. Started driving.



And when I stopped to piss, I managed to trip and fall down a well. That could have gone better, admittedly. Vic, Cassidy, and Sulik followed me down, to check for serious injuries (None. I come from the school of hard knocks and impact dampening combat armor) when we heard movement. I went ahead to check.

And noticed I still had the BB gun out, while my other guns were banged up. Couldn't repair them without a couple hours.



Turned out this was a raider stronghold. Bit of a mistake coming in.



But the Red Ryder carried me through. I can't believe they sold this thing to kids before the war.

It blows people's skulls open!



Combat armor didn't protect against it if you aim for the eye. Just a massacre.

While scrounging for parts to fix my regular guns, found an old safe. An experimental spin forced it open.



Guess the Raiders were the same ones going after Vault City to force it into the loving arms of the NCR, courtesy of John Bishop. Guess it was all a power play.

Well, going to let McClure know eventually. Heck, maybe I can slide it towards the same ends on my own. Only without New Reno involved.



Arrived in Redding late at night, thanks to the side trip. Half the miners were in the street on jet induced ravings, which did not make a good first impression. Or a second impression.

Headed for the Sheriff's quick. Not the kind of place I want to stay and settle down.

Seemed like a decent guy. Busted leg explained the sabbatical.

"Ah! Good to see a Ranger. Could use some help."

"Wait. I left the pin in the car trunk. How'd you guess?"



"Damn, and I thought you recognized the secret handshake."

"Anyone could know the handshake."

And then we both broke down laughing.

"No, seriously, Elise sent ahead. Said to look for a man in combat armor who looks dumb enough to take any work you give him, and conceited enough to take it as a compliment."

"Well, here. What's the first job?"

"Lonely widow. Behind on rent. Can't or won't pay. Either settle the debt, or get her out in the street."

"How much?"

"One twenty."

"Here. Pass it on. Spend more than that on booze. Next job?"

"Heh. You're a quick worker. Alright, there's a fight at a local bar..."

I was there in less than a minute at a run.



Woman and a man yelling at each other. Man seemed almost reasonable. Lady less so.

Told them both to break it up.

Both agreed. Neither seemed likely to stay that way.

I went over to the man.

"Look, I hate to do this. You seem like a nice guy. But you also seem like you'll go along quietly, save us all some grief and break it up. Just a couple hours in the hoosgow, and we're all fine. You coming?"

He nodded. Another job done. I went over to the sheriff.



"Just clearing the board, aren't you? Attempted murder, old case, think you're up to it?"

"Yessir."

"Of course you are, Rangers just full of vim and vigor. Good luck."

First target was the bar.



Where it turned out suspect number one was a miner. I bought up stock in the local mines, partial ownership is always nice, and went to the main mining sites.

Only, on the way, I heard a miner ranting about "Wanamingos" in an old mine. Big, unpleasant critters.

Turns out, he undersold them. Because the path I took to the mining camps?

Through the path to the old mine.



Oh, at first I joked. I thought the rats were the 'mingos. Ha ha Cassidy! Can you believe it? These hicks are still afraid of rats!

Then I went into the mine to find some gold on a lark.



I AM A FUCKING IDIOT.

They were smaller than a man, but fast. Big, whiplike arms. Pretty much feeding shells into my Jackhammer non-stop. Eventually, they stopped coming.



Didn't find much gold. Did find an old pre-war bit of tech that looked valuable. Brought it up when going to the mining camps, in case someone wanted it.



Well, the official sheriffin' business went fast and easy. The idiot confessed in a minute, slammed his head to the bar, and good work all around. Had Cassidy bring the culprit back, and went to talk to the mine owners.



McGraw was a nice enough guy, but he'd sell the town to Reno. I do not like Reno. Reno has three major factions after my head. Sold it to the first other mine owner I saw.



Said I represented a big NCR mining concern, and we'd sell for a piece of the action. She didn't seem thrilled, but she agreed, and now

1) This place is on a fast track to NCR citizenship (and thus, a job well done)
2) I am now, on paper, a major shareholder in what's going to be the largest mining concern in the wasteland. Nice chunk of change to retire on.

I went back to the sheriff to check for more work. Just one thing. Local crimelord. Frog Morton.

So called because he "croaks" people. His pun. Not mine. Thus, the dead rather than arrested.



His gang was at the mine. I'd just dealt with the Wanamingos. They were a joke in comparison.



Apparently, he has brothers. Not worried about them either, good hardware or not. They don't have armor slicing claws.

Oh, met a Vault City doctor on my way out of town. We talked shop, including cybernetic upgrades, Jet addiction, on and on.

Nice to have not-shooting people skills. Something to fall back on if I break an arm or something.

milk ducks

Nerivant wrote:

I'm hoping for a porno about being a prizefighter who is in the mob. Maybe that's just me.

Either way, this'll be great.

Erlec

Scene 1 - in a outback house
*door slams open*

A woman rolls through door, turns and shoots out. She's blonde, and wields a good rifle. She's a raider by look of clothes. Shotgun sounds are heard, man wearing combat armor slowly backing into the door. Wears a NCR symbol on right shoulder, zoom on it. Man grisly and handsome slams door shut and locks it.
Woman aims rifle at man, "Now, as that's over. Hand over the gun and armor." Man turns slowly and stares at her. "Look 'ere little lady, I ain't..."
Woman shoots two shots next to the door handle, "Take it off!"
"... As you wish mam" the man complies and empties his shotgun. As he slowly moves to the table and puts his gun on the table he can get a glimpse of the finely tuned buttocks of this mysterious raider woman. Zoom in, then zoom back out.
"And now the armor!" the women shouts to get the attention back at the matter of hand. Calmly seeing that the woman was serious the man starts to pull of his armor. Taking off the straps and belts lets the women stare at the man's muscles, they look firm and toned. She bites her lip. Barechested he puts the armor down on the floor and looks the woman straight in the eye.
"Well, what now." the man says with certain gruffness in his voice.
"Now this!" the women wispers silently, throws down her gun and starts kissing the man

-Sex scene start-

There, now we can shoot this thang. Get that ncr guy here so we can sell this porno/propoganda to the public.

P.s. Oh god, a fan fic. I WROTE A FAN FIC, *starts crying*
Edit: also, it's meant to be bad. Just fyi.

Dox the PI

^^^^ Be careful, fandom is a slippery slope.

Cutfang

In my experience once you write your first fanfic you will write many more and steadily improve in skill at it too.

Nerivant

Chiasaur's LPs inspire fanfics.

That's about the highest and weirdest praise you can get. I wholeheartedly approve of all of this.

chiasaur11

Chapter 13: Lucky 13

Home, is where I want to be. Pick me up and turn me round.

Alright. That may not exactly be true. Just... going back home. To Arroyo. Showing off. Meeting everyone again. Remembering why I wanted to leave.

It started with a visit to San Francisco. I saw the China gates, the martial arts, all that...

And all I could think of was starvation, the stupid temple of trials, and how I had a map to Vault 13. Wouldn't be more than a couple days in the highwayman. Just go in, talk to the Vault dwellers, get a GECK (No matter how much they value it, can't have costed more than, oh, 500 fusion cells. Could even, if there's no other choice, sell the car.)

As I turned to leave, another Brotherhood of Steel asshole came up.

"You've been busy, Theodore. So much for not making waves."

"Same to you. Or is running a New Reno crime syndicate more or less hobby work these days?"

"New Reno...?"

"Come on. Everyone knows the Salvatores have someone pulling the strings. Someone with power armor and energy weapons. Now, as far as I can tell, that fits, oh, one group of jackasses."

"Theodore of Arroyo, you'll have to trust me. Our brotherhood was not involved."

"Bullshit."

"There are... other agencies involved. The evidence you seek is to the north. I could mark it on your map."

"Uh-huh."

"And, while you're there, if you could retrieve something for me. Plans for a device called a 'Vertibird', capable of long distance flight..."

"Right, right. On the agenda. If you're lying you're dead, ect ect ect. If anyone else wants a ride, fine, but I'm going to do a private job for a week. My eyes only. Be back after that."

"Hell, heard if you can't find something to do in San Francisco, you can't find anything to do. See you then."

Good enough.

Drove down to the Holy 13.



Opened the door with awe. I mean, this was, for all my talk, the Holy 13. Ancestral home, technological paradise, untouched by outsiders for decades. I mean, it's borderline hollowed ground.

I was prepared for a lot.



Wasn't prepared for what I saw. Deathclaws. And I'd holstered all my firearms to look friendly. Life flashed before my eyes, wished I'd been a better man, all that.

Then, I noticed I wasn't dead. My first thought was, in evidence of my quick wits, "hey, maybe they can tame deathclaws!"

Looked at the big one in the hallway.

"Take... me... to... your... leader."

Which is when the big Deathclaw looked back. And sorta smiled, if those things can smile.

"Speaking."

"Right, uh... have a GECK?"

Look. Deathclaws are fucking terrifying. But they were talking, and it was worth a shot. History will back me up.

"Perhaps, outsider. But where are my manners? I am Gruthar. Welcome to Vault 13. And you are?"

"Theodore, my grandparents used to live here, and I thought, what the heck, might as well pick up a knick-knack, when I'm in the neighborhood."

"Again, perhaps. Why do you not panic, Theodore? I know your kin have not been treated well by mine in the past."

Simple. He could kill me in a heartbeat, panic or no. If I kept my wits about me, I might be able to get back to the car without him noticing, should I need. Otherwise, I'd be asking for a disemboweling.

But I didn't mention that.

"Old Vault 13's important back home. Figure it's a neutral ground. No violence. And there are other humans alive, so..."

Slight frown for the lizard.

"If only it were so. Still, we have problems of our own. We could help each other, Theodore."

"Sure. Fine. I get the GECK, you get, well, got a lot of options. How does a genuine Vault City T-Shirt sound? Very rare, I hear."

"No. Not your fragile trinkets."

"Please don't say blood."

"Not that either. We survive on Brahmin and other wildlife. Just...fix something for us. On the third level, the computer is, what would you say? On the fritz. Fix it."

Well, Deathclaw says go, you go.

Talked to people on the way. It's... pretty nice here. Although I can't get a straight story on why the original Vault Dwellers are gone. Well, the Rangers or the Brotherhood or someone else can handle it.

I can focus on the present.



Things like scritching baby deathclaws on the head. They're kinda cute for, well, Deathclaws.

And they pronounce Spaghetti "Pasghetti". That is the most adorable thing.



Computer just needed some good old fashioned kicking, punching, and shoving in some parts from New Reno, which wasn't much trouble. I was on my way up to collect the GECK and leave when a guy in robes came up to me.

"Excuse me. Are you a traveler?"

"Rambling kind of man, yeah, why?"

"I... have a wish to learn of the wider world. My travels can only go so far alone."

"Well, can't see a problem. Always could use another gun when things get messy. You can handle one, right?"

"I have never gone unarmed. My name is Goris, by the way."

"Theodore. Got anywhere interesting you want to see? Pre-war sites, that kind of thing?"

"An old military base..."

"Mark it on the PIP and I'll consider."

Up the elevator.

"Machine is working, Chief. Give me the GECK and we are square."

"Use it well, Theodore. And take care of Goris for me."

"Will do. Adios."

Got in the car. Started driving.

Don't know what a "Geck" does, exactly, but it came with a nifty pen-flashlight. Things are looking good. Heading to Arroyo, showing the scholar an authentic portrait of leadership with its head up its ass, and then?

Who knows! I love having a Highwayman.

Nerivant

A baby Deathclaw is all I need to start my reign of terror. It'd be simple to train it in espionage, infiltration, assassination, and terror tactics.

I'll finally have an operative to replace Fisher.

And if all it wants in return is a pasghetti, then by god, it'll have all the pasghetti in the world.

Demerdar

Mulletude

!! Want more

chiasaur11

Chapter 14: If an injury has to be done to a man it should be so severe that his vengeance need not be feared.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Shit.

There's... well, remember the not getting involved in some mess involving people with power armor? I'm involved.

Also, I'm a lucky bastard to be alive to get involved.

Right, right. Last entry mentioned going home.



Turns out, I couldn't. Bodies filled the old tents. The air smelled of burning flesh. A day less spent talking with Deathclaws, and I'd be another idiot on the pile. Momento mori.

Goris poked around with more enthusiasm. Always easier to pat down corpses when you don't know them personally.

And, I'm starting to think, if you're not human. Little more of a lope than a stride, odd hunches, doesn't seem to know how to handle a pistol. Rude to say it out loud, but "Deathclaw" seems a good bet.

I finally nerved up enough to start moving when a corpse grabbed my leg.



Borderline corpse.

"Hakunin! What happened?"

"Many... angry spirits. Our weapons were worthless. They stole most, killed the rest."

"How fucking angry? Slavers? Deathclaws? Shit, there's a thousand and one ways to die out here, and if I'm going to do any fucking good..."

"Men of steel, titans with ancient fire. They went south in steel birds, taking our people."

So, power armor. Fucking hell. Which is when I finally remembered that I was dealing with a man who was, well, bleeding on the ground.

"Chems! Look, you're going to keep giving incomprehensible, stupid speeches for a long time. I'm a doctor, I'd be a shit one if I lost a patient like this..."

"No. Too many moons. Too much pain. Tell me, chosen one, did you retrieve the holy GECK?"

"Yes. Everything else in that sentence is bullshit. Goris, super-stims. Now."

"Then I die content."

Pulse stopped. Breathing stopped. Bleeding stopped. All before I could move.

Never seen a body give out that fast. And I didn't have enough chems to waste them on a lost cause.

I should have buried them properly. Said the tribal rituals, no matter how much I hate them.

Instead, I shoved them into a pit. Probably not deep enough to keep out the wildlife.

I had other things on my mind.

Tracks stopped less than a mile out of town, but Hakunin's story of metal birds explained that. And I'd only heard of one bunch of people with aircraft.

Military base, north of San Francisco.

The Enclave. Whoever they were.



There was a guard. Wait, I'm using guard wrong. There was an unarmed idiot who would buzz in any asshole asking and give them the password.

I felt good then about the odds of a rescue.



That ended when I saw the real security. Power armor.

I'd heard that the Brotherhood used some old pre-war stuff designed to look inspiring on the battlefield. Apparently, and I don't know how true this is, there were even people in the old world whose only livelihood was armor aesthetics.

They must have all died in the war. This was just metal assembled for maximum efficiency. If it scared the shit out of tribals, that was just a happy bonus.

I stammered out the password, that I was "new".

The guard shoved me to the armory, and a suit of power armor.



No training. Just "Get in the fucking armor and don't take all day, idiot." Well, he didn't sugarcoat it that much.

I could hardly walk for the first few minutes. The servos had too much kick, the armor weighed more than combat gear, and the initial boot phase for the targeting system blotted out my eyes.

Accidentally fired a slug into my own arm, which didn't do anything. At least it ruled out trying a gunfight here before I could do something stupid. Stupider.



Instead, I decided on the "steal everything not guarded and lie when asked" method of finding the Vertibird plans the Brotherhood asked for, then begging for some backup.

Lots of backup.

Asked some techs where the plans were. Asked where the prisoners were (not here, somewhere called Poseidon.)



Asked the regular guards for the Vertibird plans why the second shift mechanics said they were pussies.

Nothing like a fistfight to cover a little theft.



Left for San Francisco, telling the guards I had to report back to the "Oil Rig", and that they'd been good sports about the whole secret inspection.

They didn't send a Vertibird after me, so I guess the story worked.


I really hope someone has a better plan than mine. "Lie, then run like hell" only works for so long.

chiasaur11

Chapter 15: This site also demonstrates one of the great dangers of archaeology; not to life and limb, although that does sometimes take place. I'm talking about folklore.

Well, can't say life has been dull recently.

As soon as I got back to San Francisco, I grabbed the gang and met with the Brotherhood member who gave me the Vertibird job.

"I heard you were asking about Vertibird plans."

And then he drew a plasma rifle.

"You enclave bastards! You can kill me..."

I removed the helmet and raised my hands.

"No, I'm the guy you hired for it. Let's all lower the guns, not shoot, and maybe..."

He lowered the gun.

"Sorry. Had a couple outposts disappear recently. No last signal, nothing. We're going alone this far from Lost Hills, and how the hell did you get back alive?"

"With the plans, even. Turns out the guards are idiots. Also, lazy. Here they are."

"Thank you. The Brotherhood will certainly make use of this."

"Great. Now, could you do me a favor?"

"Of course. Everything in the bunker is yours."

"Not that, thanks. Look, this has got personal recently, don't care to give the details, and the Enclave needs to be dealt with. Is the Brotherhood up to it?"

"You don't seem to understand what you want here. The Enclave develops its own power armor, something we can't match. They have unknown numbers, advanced equipment, and we have no way to access their main base. The last point might change with the Vertibird schematics you brought us, or if someone could repair the Valdez in the bay, but we need more information before we can do anything."

"So, you can't do anything. Thanks, asshole."

"Well, there are a few things. An old Enclave military base, some pre-war combat networks we haven't recovered. With those, we might be able to discover a weakness. Find their plans. Fight back. There's some weapons in the base and for sale around town if you need any. Would you be willing to do that for us?"



It was better than nothing. I went in the base, grabbed a pulse rifle for myself and some armor for Cassidy and Sulik, used the medical computer to install some sub-dermal combat upgrades, and left.



Oh, a local merchant had Gauss rifles. Power armor made using pretty much everything even easier than before once I got used to it, so I'm carrying a lot of guns right now. Pulse rifle, gauss rifle, jackhammer, plasma rifle, Bozar, BB gun... if a problem needs a gun, I have the right tools for the job.



Good thing. The old military base was full of firearm-solvable problems. Oh, at first, it was just wild dogs.



A minecart to jam full of dynamite and ram into a wall. Not what needed power armor. Then we got in.



Do you know what the most terrifying thing in the world is? Not deathclaws.

Seeing soldiers in power armor lying around dead, torn apart, and having no idea what killed them. It wasn't the rats. Their armor logs covered that the Enclave was here for some "FEV" or something, but their slayer? It was "them", "they".

There were rats. It wasn't the rats, as big as they were.



And turning on the power didn't solve anything.

Cassidy walked over to me.

"This looks like one of those old 'fuck everyone' shitstorms. Scavengers poke at a closed off test site, then a whole town dies."

"We're wearing power armor, Cassidy. What's the worst that could happen?"

"They were wearing power armor too. Didn't do much good. And the guy you grabbed in robes? He's not looking useful in a fight."

"Trust me. Goris knows how to handle himself."

We stepped in the elevator.



And met with a lot of mutants. Heavily armed.

Cassidy and Vic started swearing under their rebreathers.

I just sighed in relief. At least I knew what these things were. And that they could die.



Goris tossed off his robe and charged into them, ripping them apart.

It didn't stop the swearing.

"A fucking deathclaw. Was he always like that, or should we all be chugging rad-x once this is done? Either way, what the hell were you thinking?"

"Boss, what did I do to get that thing watching me? It's bad enough when Sulik glares at me."

"There be evil spirits here and no mistake."

Then more mutants showed up. It left us all too busy shooting for talking."

Just as well. I didn't much like having a Deathclaw around either, but if it wanted to help, it would be a bad idea to piss it off. Like ghouls or mutants. Humanity would be happier without them, but they're here, and we deal with 'em as best we can.



Found some armor on a shelf. Gave it to Vic.



And finally cleared the floor of most of the mutants. Or scared them off.

Goris walked up to me then. In his robe.

"I see that my presence is causing strife."

"It's nothing. Just sometimes people talk, they don't mean anything..."

"I can leave. Thank you for sharing your triumph and your grief, your journeys. I will not trouble you further."

And he just left in the elevator. Sent it back down after.

"Thanks boss. It was scaring the shit out of me."

Too bad. We could have used him later on.



There was a big mutant in the basement, gesturing towards bubbling vats of... something. Oh, he died fast enough. One burst of the Bozar.



His "pets" nearly killed us. A couple Deathclaws emerged from the vats and charged me. Barely managed to shove the Jackhammer in one's face, and Sulik had to kill the other.

The barracks in the back had enough information to find out the story. Enclave wanted a virus for something. It mutated their slave workers, who killed them, and a couple soldiers, who they extracted for further testing. Not much, but it was a start. The enclave is making super soldiers.

The other old base went better.



Dealt with a few robots from safely behind a forcefield.



Met an AI, who offered to help, Didn't answer many questions, but I wasn't the one who'd know what to do with it.



Repaired a body for it with parts from the computers here and a cyborg brain in cold storage, and we're on our way back to San Francisco.

...I should let the Rangers know about this thing soon. If they don't already know.

chiasaur11

Chapter 16: All of a sudden, it's too late

Motherfucker.

Alright, I've been opening most of these journal entries with vulgarity lately. But I have a good reason.

I'm fighting a group that, if they ever figure out I'm the idiot causing them trouble, will kill me in seconds. Oh, and there's a fair chance they know enough about me to track me whenever I stop too long already.

Right, right. Details.



So, I went back to the BOS to report "Mission Accomplished" and maybe get some information on what all the stuff I found means.

Nobody's there. The locals "didn't see anything". I boot up the computer.

It has a recording, which some dumbass didn't properly delete. I hit play.

The video was the Brotherhood member who hired me meeting a couple Enclave soldiers and a giant power armored monster who taunted him and tore him limb from limb.

The monster's escorts then spent a little time wondering about who the "asshole" was who got these "mutants" vertibird plans.

Then they left for lunch.

(On the upside, I found about something called "sandwiches". Apparently, if you put meat between two pieces of bread, it's a food you can eat with one hand wherever. Classy.)

So, I went east. I'd been away from Ranger center for a lot of mess, and I owed them the story if I want to keep the pin.

Stopped at Vault 13 to warn the Deathclaws too. I mean, they deserved a little heads up for the help, even if they were hideous inhuman monsters.



I recognized the signs from the start this time. Blood. No guards.

Enclave.



Everyone was dead. Human and Deathclaw alike, even the kids.

Even Cassidy looked sick.

"What the hell happened here? Deathclaws killed the settlers, but who killed the big bastards?"

"I doubt it's that simple. Unfortunately. My money's on Enclave. The ones in power armor."



The computer confirmed it. They didn't even need guns. Their leader, the big mutant, just... punched a Deathclaw. And it exploded.

Brotherhood of Steel soldiers dying like that was scary enough. Deathclaws? Whoever the big guy was, I never want to deal with him.

I was trying to keep vomit out of my helmet when I heard something a little like sobbing.



Goris was alive.

He sniffed the air and turned towards me.

"Ah. Theodore. It seems we are brothers in tragedy, but I fear my pain is greater. Your clan may still live, and another can be found to replace them. Mine is gone forever."

Not much to say, really. I tried to think of something reassuring.

"Well, at least they took a few Enclave members with them?"

"No. Not with my father here. He..."

His eyes darted back and forth.

"I have not told you the whole truth. We were created by the Enclave, and used to take this Vault. My father saw your kin being stolen away and swore to never again raise his claws against a human. He made all of us pledge the same. I admit I may have, how do you humans say it, crossed my fingers, but it was sacred. They were slaughtered to the last, unwilling to raise a hand against our attackers."

"I'm guessing you want payback?"

I saw fangs then. Rows of them.

"More than anything."

"Then what?"

"Then, I assume, I will die. My father dreamed of a better way. My father is dead, and his dream with him."

"Okay, I guess. I mean, it's your life. I'm heading east to pick up what help we can get."

I grabbed a NavCom part on the way out, and hoped nobody in the NCR would poke under the robes.

For a while, it worked. The guards waved us all through. Elise just took the robot to be examined, and said we'd talk in a minute.

Unfortunately, the Vet came in.

"Is that a talking Deathclaw? Didn't think they came this far west."

"What? Talking Deathclaws? Crazy! Ha ha, isn't that crazy Goris my fellow human?"

"Right. All the stories I heard about the midwest were complete bullshit. Take off the robe."

"Skin condition."

"Uh-huh. Look, don't know what he told you, or why he's here, but we've been finding more out about your buddies in Vegas, and we need all the help we can get. So, get back and get us some damn backup."

Goris tilted his head under the robes.

"I am all that's left."

"You... I mean... FUCK."

She just slumped. I didn't think it was in her to break.

"It didn't happen. It couldn't happen."

"I didn't know any outsider cared so much about Vault 13."

And the air went back in. Shoulders straight.

"The NCR cares about people. Sorry about your loss. Keep your head down, if you can, but you should be alright here if you talk before they see the claws. Still, I'd go East once this is over. Stories say it's better there if you're not Homo Sapiens Sapien."

"I doubt..."

And then Rondo came in to say Elise wanted to talk, and everyone else should stay back.

I went. She talked.

"Seems you're in the loop no matter what we all want."

"Yes'm. Any progress?"

"Brotherhood's cleared. A local doctor got us a lead. Apparently, there's some continuity-of-government things that survived the war, and they're all nasty. We're making deals with everyone we can contact. Even promised find a man who knew Bishop's daughter, in the Biblical sense. There you are, we found you."

"Does this include the Brotherhood of Steel?"

"Especially them. That machine you brought is apparently 80% black box to them, but it can mount information warfare tech, so we're grateful."

And then the radio piped up.

"Skynet is grateful to be of assistance."

She jumped half an inch before continuing.

"Your job is scouting, disruption, and rescue, if possible. I'll be honest, it's high risk. Intel says the PMS Valdez might be able to take you from San Francisco harbor. Maybe. If you can fix the boat's navigational computer, get some fuel, AND get a working IFF from Navarro..."

"I got the nav comp already. And maybe I can get into Navarro. Maybe. But..."

"Good luck, Ranger. Dismissed."



The fuel for the tanker was easy enough to deal with. "Just" had to kill a lot of monsters, rescue a girl, and hack a mainframe to steal fuel from an old submarine, hoping the surviving chi-coms wouldn't find out I did it and kill me.

But Navarro? I barely got in and out once. And it's where Cassidy, Vic, and Sulik cut ties.

Well, I'll be fair. Where they wanted enough to cut ties that I let them quit.

"No offense, Boss, but..."

"Not enough money in the world. Hell and back, but not this."

"There be bad spirits and worse spirits. We and I hear worse spirits there."

I got the picture. Let them stay in the NCR. But Gorris just sharpened his claws.



We drove to the base. He'd stay by the car. Kill anyone who got suspicious. I'd go in and get the IFF. Simple. Only old habits die hard when it comes to helping people.



Scientist needed someone for a job. I wandered right in. Dumbass.

"Ah, good. I need you to dispose of an... experiment for me. Last of a failed batch."

"Yessir. Uh, what is the nature of the experiment?"

"Deathclaws, genetically modified. We kept one here until the project was terminated for further testing. Now, it is unnecessary. Don't worry about screaming, this room is soundproofed. Had to do that when some of the others on base complained."

"Complained, sir? I can't think why."

"Oh, tribals. Bring them in for experimentation, and people complain you're being inhumane, just because the subhuman things start screaming before they die."

Which is when my New Reno trained boxing reflexes kicked in, and he flew back into the wall.



It put me on a tighter schedule, IE, until they checked the room and found the corpse. I grabbed his keycards and ID, hoped they would pass muster, and went to get the Deathclaw. If it escaped, it might provide a distraction. Maybe.



"Ah, my latest executioner."

"No, more of a rescue assignment. Uh, wait. Latest?"

The deathclaw gave a toothy grin.

"They have found that not all of us are as kind and tolerant as Gruthar."

Well, it provided a segue for bad news.

"Good, in this case. He's dead. All of them are."

"No! The pack is dead?"

"Just you and Goris now. I'm sorry."

Perfect, in a perverse way. He'd rampage, and I could steal the IFF without worry. Plus, potential threat to humanity extinct!

"Then, there's nothing left to me but death. The pack was the only home we could ever have. Thank you, human, for the truth."

"Well, maybe not. If you and Goris get out of here, there might be something back East. No promises, but..."

Stupid conscience.

"Thank you, mammal."

And he ran out the back. I didn't see either of the Deathclaws again, and I did see some Enclave bodies by the car. Hope they're alright. Also, hope I never have to deal with the whole thing.



Bluffed my way to the IFF dongle with the scientist's ID.



Grabbed it. Got out. So now, I'm alone in an old Highwayman, going to pick up a probably insane robot poked and prodded by people who, a week or two ago I was sure wanted to kill me, to try to fight impossible odds from a rusty old tanker.

I am a moron.

see317

At least you rediscovered sandwiches. Now civilization can truly start... err... re-start.

Spoit

Did I miss a set where you went to go see marcus and get married and the like?

chiasaur11

Spoit wrote:

Did I miss a set where you went to go see marcus and get married and the like?

Unfortunately, no.

Didn't manage to get around to that stuff until after Navarro, when it would more or less kill what little pacing I have going.

That's the thing with Fallout 2. It has way more stuff than you're usually going to see in one playthrough, and it goes all over the place in urgency. On one hand,

oh no your hometown has been razed, everyone has been kidnapped, and they're being used in hideous medical experiments to take over the world!

, but at the same time, you're free to dally about finding out the secret of how an inn makes such great omelettes, and finding a missing pocketwatch. Common RPG problem in general, but Fallout 2 it's more notable than usual, for good and ill.

Smaug6

Really love this Lets Play. Classy as always!

chiasaur11

Chapter 17: We know that the germ, which is man made in metal, is really a key to your own tomb.

Holy shit.

Just... I mean...

Holy shit.

Managed to get away from everyone else for a bit, finally, and start writing this. Even got the helmet radio off.

Where to start, where to start...

Right. Disembarking.



The boat managed to dock with the oil rig safe and sound, and they didn't send a security team.

Disappointing, in a way. Of course, I hardly was in the place when my helmet started squawking.

"Ranger? Can you hear me Ranger?"

"Elise? Uh, loud and clear. Too loud."

"Right, turning the volume down. We managed to get some help here. Local brotherhood and some other people with experience have agreed to provide intel. Not much help, but it's what we can do. Remember, this is an eyes and ears mission, not a full invasion. Avoid trouble."

Funny to think about that now.



Spent a little time just looking around and talking to the guards. I think I blended fairly well.

"Can you believe this shit?"

"Those higher ups, they think they're so much more important than us."

"So, I have to drag this fucking robot everywhere..."

"Those tribals! I hate them for being different from us!"

Managed to get some intel that way, as long as I avoided the security bots. Prisoner locations, weapon storage, everything.

It seemed to keep Elise busy, at least.

"Am I seeing... No, that's what he said. Apparently, they have no operational security. Less than none. Look, I don't know either. Yes, I know the Brotherhood has better... don't doubt ANYONE ELSE would do better."



I just poked in the computers while they talked.

Again, no security. I didn't like what I saw.

Genocide by biological weapons. I got the basics on FEV when reading up on viruses in Vault City. Apparently, it's unpleasant. Modified version the Enclave was working on would, in theory, pretty much wipe out humanity.

Emphasis on "in theory". Seemed they had a limited test pool, they were relying on wind based distribution (Not exactly reliable, if I remember right), they didn't have anything to deal with sealed bunkers or armor...

Sloppy. Probably would still wipe out millions of people, but sloppy.



Found the prisoners. Unfortunately, Mom just had to go and talk to me. In front of the guards.

"Chosen one! You must save us all!"

I turned to the other guys in power armor.

"No idea what she's talking about, guys. Tribals, am I right?"

"You must save us!"

"Guys, it looks like I'll have to sort this out. Mind looking away for a bit?"

I cracked my knuckles for emphasis.

They complied.

"Alright, we can talk, mom. But make it quick. You're here, and some Vault Dwellers are here. I got that. And you need my help, because you set everybody else to be armed with spears while the rest of the world got flamethrowers and rocket launchers. I don't need much to fill in the blanks."

"They are poisoning..."

"Also read the internal test logs. They're monsters. Incompetent monsters. I know. Anything new? Like why you sent me out to die?"

"You were going to bring the old world back. We were safe, and happy. Look what your actions have brought us!"

"Nothing? Because, seriously, I brought bad things to a lot of people, but this one seems like a coincidence. In fact, I'd say it was your fault for leaving us so far in the boonies that NO-ONE WOULD INVESTIGATE EXCEPT ME. Your 'innocence of modern technology' crap just left everybody screwed over. THANKS."

"You've seen the world. You know how vile it can be! Look at the very ground we stand on!"

"Alright. I'll give you the Enclave. And New Reno. And The Den. Everyone in Vault City is kind of a dick... Jet addicts... Okay, you have a point. But there's also the NCR and nice little towns like Klamath. Tech just lets people deal with things on a larger scale. "

"And look where that brought us!"

"Properly geared for a rescue mission? Look, either you prepare, or some other bastard does it first. Can't put the genie back in the bottle, ect, ect. Look, I'll try to get you all out of here. Get to the docked boat with the other prisoners when the orders come in. Act surprised. We're done."

"Chosen one!"

I left.

"Didn't stop even when I beat the hell out of her. Would kill her, but orders. Glad my shift is over."

"But..."

Walked down the nearest stairwell.

"Wow. Family issues?"

Oh, right. Everyone in Ranger center heard every word. Ha.

"Shut up."

"Look, we've had..."

"Shut up."

"Bad way to talk to your commanding officer, Ranger."

"Yes'm."



There was a room filled with electrified floors and some supply lockers below. Got zapped a little, but the point escaped me.



And I forgot all about it once I got to the lockers. Another GECK, which would be pretty much priceless. Made sure not to mention that aloud, just in case I decide the NCR doesn't need it.

I mean, I like them, but I could use a retirement package. And a second penlight.



And a prototype suit of power armor. That I did describe.

"Better energy and ballistics resistance. Little bit less paint."

"Alright, that's... that's going to be trouble. They already had better stuff than... Alright, a question from the audience. How is it against Plasma?"

"Very tough. Could be punched through, I guess. With a good gun. Pulse weapons should work."

"Better than nothing. I guess. Numbers?"

"I dunno. There's a thousand people on the base, maybe another hundred at Navarro?"

"Percent military?"

"Fifty fifty at most. Can't be that much of the good armor, I'm still seeing old 51-Bs. And the new models are not built for the wasteland. Fragile joints, tricky maintenance, dedicated repair crew unless you're a savant... Like I said before, sloppy. If this place blew sky high, they'd be screwed. Wait. The map I read earlier, it had a reactor, right?"

"Without any failsafes, apparently. I thought I told you this was scouting?"

"Requesting permission for further action?"

"If you mess up, we'll pretend you were never born."

"Got it."



Saw a couple offices. Went past someone saying he was "Vice President" whatever that was. Seemed kind of insane. Walked past to the President's office.



"What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Security detail. Rumors someone broke in. Uh, look, I've been hearing rumors about our big FEV plan, are they true?"

"Don't worry. All of us loyal Americans will be spared. Just the filthy mutants will be purged. Well, and anyone who doesn't receive the inoculations."

"Wait. Are you saying pure humans will be killed too?"

"Sacrifices must be made. They weigh heavily on me, I assure you."

"But, you could just modify FEV to ignore pure humans. I mean, I'm not a doctor or anything, but I hear..."

"Oh, of course, we all regret it. But they're acceptable losses."

"But avoidable!"

He almost spat at me.

"Erradicating the mutant menace is worth it. Or are you a com..."

He didn't finish the sentence. A broken neck will do that.



I grabbed a valuable looking security card and left the room before anyone could ask questions. Making the President see reason was off the table, but someone else might be more pliable.



A scientist said I was in the wrong room.

Charles Curling. Good list of titles, but doctor and ranger matched, I figured.

And Elise said some of the folks had heard much more impressive.

"Oh, sorry. What do you do here?"

"You heard of an FEV variant? Curling-13?"

"That was you? Amazing! Uh, I had a few... questions. I'm kind of an amateur geneticist myself..."

"Fine. It's a new story, at least."

"Well, I'd been reading up on the FEV variant employed. Amazing stuff, but... it only bonds to human genes?"

"Of course. Wiping out the native wildlife would leave us without food sources and increase the risk of further mutation of the strain."

"Right. Well, there's this... I mean, I've seen the description, and it wouldn't bond to sufficiently mutated cells. Like Supermutants. And ghouls."

"What?"

"These but ugly mutated monsters. There are thousands of them. They would be immune. And, well, they'd probably be mad. Also, there'd still be wild deathclaws, mutagens in the air, a lot of things. I don't like thinking about the future. We'd be killing millions of people for nothing."

And then he jabbed me with a needle.

"OW! What was that?"

"FEV immunity. You're right. I've made a mistake. I've known that for a while. Just... haven't bothered to confront it. I released it in the air vents for the prisoners. Signaled for their release. Now all we need to do is clear up the rest of our folly."

"Uh..."

"Curling 13 is entering the air right now. The vent systems might take a while, but this ends here. It all ends."

"I don't..."

"When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?"

The radio went on again.

"He's quoting William Blake. Run for your life."

"Which means?"

"If someone is quoting The Tiger, it's an even bet they're insane. Run."

I did, right down to the basement.



"I can snap your neck like a twig. Evacuate this section. I'm going to destroy it. Just rig the plant to blow. Now."

"But..."

"Neck. Twig."

A few seconds later, an alarm was telling me I had ten minutes to get out before the place goes up in nuclear fire. A few soldiers and civvies may have also gotten out but, really, I'm not genocidal. They won't threaten civilization again, and the prisoners are free. It's enough for now. Plus, the chain of succession should be nicely ruined with the top ranks empty or scattered.



Met a few soldiers on the way out. Enclave Control company.

"Hey guys. So, uh, how are you?"

"Shitty. As usual. Brass are shoving prisoners into back room and they aren't coming back. Keeping that psycho Horrigan around. Don't like any of it. Didn't catch your name."

"Theodore."

"Fred Granite. Me and EC got shuffled here from Navarro to babysit the freak."

"So, you aren't terribly loyal, and you don't have family here?"

"Brother died base diving, dad died working on a Steel mill, and I can't say I like what's been going on lately. I love America as much as the next guy, but..."

"Great. This place is about to explode. You're invited out."

"Not going to happen. See, Horrigan's in the way if you want to go to your boat. Even if I wanted to, you're gonna die."

"And you'll drown like a rat. I thought EC stood for something."

"Enclave control. Not a complicated acronym."

"You know what I mean. I'm going to try. Up to you if you join in. Come on, Skynet."



Which is when I ran into Frank Horrigan. Huge, power armored, probably evil, you name a potential warning sign, he fit it.



Which is why I flipped on the turrets using the Presidential override.

EC came in.



I got out the Bozar. Turns out, even mutants don't like a few hundred armor piercing FMJ rounds to the torso.



He tried to say something about a self destruct, but the place was already exploding. Whatever extra he had didn't do shit. And he didn't take too well to some plasma to the head. Then, it was just running to the boat, and getting everyone the hell out of dodge.

It was a beautiful explosion. Nice, clean end to things.

Now, I guess all that's left is dropping folks off, and finding somewhere to just retire. Can't be too hard.

Nerivant

Teddy is going to be a crazy old hermit sitting on a massive stockpile of munitions.

Like my uncle, but in a wasteland instead a forest.

Better lines of sight in the wasteland.