18+ Secrets of the commonwealth

[Simus]

After Orson was done talking Courtney didn't know what to say. This man was pre-war like her and part of the vault like her. But he was part of the staff, not the residents. He was part of the people who did this to her. He was one of the people that had killed her baby. That was how she first felt. But was he really? He was a guard, not a scientist, responsible for keeping order in this place and thrust into a hard position that kept getting harder. This vault was designed to fail. It had to be. Why else would the staff run out of supplies after eighteen months with no backup plan and no all clear? Vault-Tec must have known that the people not frozen would die or kill each other for resources. Again, she pondered on who exactly was being experimented upon down here.

None of this changed the fact that she was mad. She was so mad she wanted to kill this man. To take vengnce on the last staff member and avenge ale trying who died down here. But that would never help. They would still be dead and nothing she could do could bring them back. Nothing could bring Peter back.

She stood thee for minutes clinching her fists and stating holes into Orson, trying to calm her rage. She had to tell herself over and over that his man was here to help her and the first human being she's seen since the bombs. He had lost just as much as she did and suffered for much longer. He had more than paid his dues. Finally she started to calm down and noticed that Orson was crying. Silent tears of shame trickled down his face and the pained expression only a parent could feel we're all over his face. Courtney just couldn't stand to see that. Not after doing the exact same thing. Out of pity, remorse and shame she went over to Orson and hugged him.

"Thank you for telling me that." She said softly, her chi. Resting on his left shoulder and her arms around his neck. "I forgive you."

 

[Wolfbane]

"So you came all the way out here from your hell in the desert to our little piece of hell up here?" his hat maintained it's spot even as his head shook, "To find someone who has been here for a couple years? Any chance your 'target' " His face was riddled with a smug look with taunt lightly in his voice, "may have just dug in an hole up somewhere?"

"Hell is still hell, no matter which corner you come from."

"The assumption that she is 'dug up in a hole somewhere' is highly unlikely," Kenzi's hands rose up as air quotes for emphasis, "Our target is much smarter than your average cowboy hat wearing gun for hire. She knows never to stay in one place for too long when you don't have the upper hand." Kenzi was known for a few things around the base for a few things; her accuracy, her ability to talk the shirt off you, her capacity to break a man's (or woman's) nose and her love of snarky comebacks. The pair as a group was so dry in humor that you'd think they had more than a few bad days. On top of that they could tandem shoot like no other.

"Names around here just get people like me shot at. Call me Slinger" He nods to the pair. "Funny enough I've heard some stories of another NCR ranger. A woman running with a pretty serious crew of gunners." pooling his belongings into his hands, Slinger began to walk out the door. "Come see me if you wanna stare angrily at someone. Or if you wanna talk more my dear" He said winking at Vex while slyly nodding at Kenzi as if she was some kind of high school tease.

"I'll be at the Dugout Inn bring caps! Pipes will tell you if I'm worth it," he non nonchalantly got up and headed towards the door and made his way out, saying something that could barely be heard to the young Nat who was right behind the closed door. There was a slight snarl on Kenzi's face, showing the disdain at the comment. Her warm brown eyes veered down towards a hand and up to a smirk of the one man who can call her that. There was a collective sigh as Slinger left the room before the pair turned their attention to the present Piper. Both stuck their hand out in unison and shook the reporter's hand right after another with the same respect, "Thank you for your hospitality, Ms.Wright. You've been a big help in more ways than one. Now we must be on our way." The two mysterious Rangers got up and determinedly walked out into the winding down city. When the two had exited, the flick of a beaten up silver light echoed down the market street as flames sneaked their way up the white walkway of yet another one of Kenzi's coffin nails. They looked at the local bar then at the front entrance debating on whether or not they should pay for the information or find her themselves. Suddenly Vex broke the silence with two fingers and a singular question.

"What has two legs but can't walk?"

"God damn you and those ridd-" Kenzi suddenly stopped and locked her eyes on drag marks, balancing the cancer stick in her mouth in slight disbelief. This was cemented at the sound of a struggle, "You got to be pl*psting me. Why don't be see if we can cause some trouble?" the two looked at each other with cheeky grins and made their made their way towards the end of the marks and the beginning of a new scene of the movie they called life. Kenzi withdrew her 9mm with her cigarette still in her mouth while Vex simply threw one side of his duster over his shooting side. Both stopped in the same spot with Slinger now on the ground. The thugs turned around in surprise.

"This a bad time? I can always get the caps out now and let them continue to pass the time," A grin even a Cheshire cat would be envious of showed on Kenzi's face as she gazed down her pistols iron sights. Slinger gave a sigh and a look of half relief and half irony. The leader of the group turned with his hand pinching the bridge of his nose, "There is no need to intervene, I assure you. This is a simple business transaction. The cripple turned his bum leg so he could face the rangers with respect.

"Oh is there? To me it looks like there is a problem. Last time I checked this is not the proper way to conduct business. But hey, maybe it's different from the way we were raised," Kenzi let smoke pool out of her mouth as she took note of the distance and spacing of the two thugs in relation to her partner. One eye snapped to the sound of a thug adding his two worthless cents in, "Why don't you put down the gun before you hurt yourself, girl. You wouldn't want chip a nail. Better yet, stop know before I bash that pretty face in and do something I won't regret." the thugs chuckled amongst themselves with their guns pointed at the two guests.

"That's no way to talk to a lady. Let the adults talk about adult matters," Vex clenched his shooting hand causing tiny pops of his bones to be heard.

"Oh look, lads. It's the bitch's pet dog. Wheres your collar boy?"

"You better not say that word again, boy," Vex bared his teeth while locking onto the guy's anxious gun arm, "Wouldn't want to shame you in front of your girlfriends. Answer me this; What do you want broken first? The arm or the leg?" This apparently set the bigger thug off causing him to raise his shooting arm. The gun was thrown up, allowing him to slide into the man's space and he shot his left hand up catching the rifle at the mag release, causing the magazine to drop while he punched the man in the chest right by the upper ribs, causing it to snap in two places before following it up with a kick at the man's leg, snapping it in the span of a few seconds. His partner let out a sigh and punched out two rounds into the remaining thugs' arms. One might say that this would be typical of an action scene in a book, but the training of the NCR Ranger was bar none.

"You have witnessed what is known as a hostile takeover. You threatened us, so we had to use a force multiplier. It just so happens my force multiplier is a man who just broke some of the ribs and the leg of your little lad. All bark and no bite. If you try to exact revenge know this; You'll be lucky if I make you a paraplegic. Good luck fashioning a wheelchair. My partner however, well let's say he doesn't take kindly to insults towards me. There are far worse ways to torture a man than physical. The mind is a fascinating and delicate thing. Now if you don't mind Slinger will be coming with us. Unless you have a quicker arm than my man over there?"

The crippled man brushed his greasy hair back and hobbled away from Slinger in defeat before going on his way leaving his goons in disapproval. Slinger got up and dusted himself off after kicking the downed men. Kenzi holstered her 9 in her hip holster while finally taking out her cancer stick which resided in her mouth for quite sometime, "Slinger if you demand to be paid or call me a pet name again I will make you a cripple. I say we're about even."

 

[Pufftuff]

Slinger sighed in relief at the sight of the two rangers. With swiftness and efficiency they put down the thugs. That crippled slug was being allowed to slink off into the dark. Slinger got up dusted himself off and raised his colt at the back on the limping man. Vex quickly with his strong arms hit Slinger's hand downward. 'NCR sense of morality, well he's not gonna like this' Slinger thought. The gun was knocked out of his hand, quickly he stopped from hitting the ground with his boot. Flicking it back into his hand, he proceeded to kick both men followed swiftly with shots to the head.

"Slinger if you demand to be paid or call me a pet name again I will make you a cripple. I say we're about even." Kenzi said after taking the cigarette out of her mouth. While spitting blood out of his mouth Slinger said, "I had it more under control than it looked. But still appreciate the assistance my dear." nodding with a sideways smile really hoping he didn't just call her a pet name. Judging by both of their faces he needed to change the subject quickly.

"Look we need to go the gun shots made a little to much noise, both in the literal and figurative sense." Tipping his hat and pointing with sincere respect. "I have a camp...we can talk there."

He took them to his camp outside Cambridge just north of the river. It was well set up a nice tent, a duffle bag, a semblance of an alarm system, and a fire pit. Gesturing for the pair to sit along a few crossed logs. Setting purified water bottles by their feet. As he started the fire the smell of burning decay became strong for a moment as he used moss to start the fire with. He stoked it with scrap wood, old crates mostly. He sat down, in the warm orange glow of the fire he could see the faces of the two; they stared at him with annoyance mostly and he sensed some trust issues.

As the fire cracked Slinger handed some soup he had just made on the fire to the rangers. Finally breaking the silence, "Look the water is clean, the soup could be worse, and even you rough tumblers need to fuel up." they didn't break eye contact.

"So I have good reason to believe your friend is in Goodneighbor. There is a gunner safe house in the area." Gesturing with his hands as he spoke he took his hat off and tossed in onto a vertical stick about ten feet away. "Seeing as you're not from around here."

"Also I may owe you." He murmured under his breath. "I'll take you there. Free of charge!"

"At the least stay the night and eat and drink your fill decide in the morning." Back to silence as the three sat and stared at the fire.

 

[fellowknight]

Orson simply couldn't help it. He was practically bawling like a seven year old who dropped his ice cream and he had no idea how to stop. Years spent burying the years in this vault were uncovered and the event was fresh in Orson's mind. And in the presence of a dangerous and possibly unstable stranger too. But she wasn't a stranger anymore. This woman had a face. She was a mother, a widowed wife, who's life had crumbled around her in the wake of a gritty and violent way of life. The cunning preyed on the ignorant, the murderous hunted the lost, and the powerful dominated the stragglers. Maybe she could survive that, maybe not.

But for a woman with nothing to lose, she sure surprised him.

She walked up to him and Orson flinched slightly, thinking she might crush his jugular or thumb his eyes. But instead she hugged him.

"Thank you for telling me that. I forgive you." Her chin rested on his shoulder, arms around his neck as she said it.

Emotion rushed through Orson. Why was she forgiving him? He couldn't have deserved that. After he failed in his only duty. He didn't save them because he couldn't and that only made the pain more severe. A mistake he could never take back or wish away. And why now? After this bearded stranger had killed several armed men and strangled one with just his bare hands. Who knew. All Orson knew was that the embrace made him feel better. As if the world hadn't ended. It reminded him of home. His home, where his daughter pranced about with her teddy bear, and his wife helped him clean up their mess of dishes.

In this crazy chaotically ravaged world, this moment made him feel human. As if he hadn't murdered people he didn't know. And did ugly things to survive and protect those he cared about.

His arms wrapped around her in the odd embrace and he relaxed, if slowly.

"I'm sorry.. For your loss.." was all he could manage to say. It didn't feel like anymore needed to be said.

And quite frankly, he never wanted the moment to end.

 

[Wolfbane]

"I had it more under control than it looked. But still appreciate the assistance my dear." nodding with a sideways, the two had assumed that he was thinking he hoped he didn't say anything that would cause him to be a cripple. The Rangers raised an eyebrow at the thought of his idea of 'under control'. Slinger must've noticed their expressions due to him quickly changing the subject. Kenzi slid her pistol back in her hip holster with a sigh while Slinger hastily walked towards the entrance, "Look we need to go the gun shots made a little to much noise, both in the literal and figurative sense," Tipping his hat, he extended a finger pointing at the outside to mark a safe place. "I have a camp...we can talk there."

Before the three made it past the Diamond city granite statue Vex noticed a ratty piece of paper with the symbol of peace barely poking out of the jagged cracks of the old world marker. He gingerly took it out and opened it up to reveal a riddle and the next location to search. His dark brown eyes scanned each line with intent to solve and remained locked on the paper as his mind processed an answer. The sight of blonde woke him from his thinking,

"Hugs you not in sympathy but whose smile you rather not see. Who is it that brave men run away from and whose fingers are clawed. Whose sleep lasts for months and whose company we shunt..." there was a slight pause before she got a look of annoyance, "These god damn riddles! I swear those damn things should have died in invisible fire instead of copies of our favorite books. Who the fl*ff needs riddles anyway." a slender hand fanned the note away like some foul stench. Kenzi stared at Vex knowing he was already figuring out the answer. Before she could prod a response, he stuck up a finger to stop her with an answer attached.

"A bear. It's our symbol after all. I suspect the next note will lead us closer. Maybe she's getting tired of running. She always did have a soft spot for riddles."

"More like anything to annoy me. As long as it gives us answers to what's going on then I'll answer a book of these damn things. Why do you two love them?"

"She's the one who loves them so much. It makes you think. For someone who reads a lot you sure hates these things. How many books have we read? I can't count how many. It's hard enough finding pre-war anything as it is and books are no different."

"That's why I always write them down for a list of what we need. Remember the caravan job? The one with me threatening to break my thumb and slip the cuffs and take down the privates so I could make sure you were alright?" She played with her thumb in front of his face to insert humor in their current state. Vex simply smiled, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close before pointing to the scrawled down location, "Bunker Hill; Where General Warren's militia stood against the British invaders in a valiant yet vain stand." He stuck out a hand and wiped the sky with it as if showing off an invisible plaque. His partner giggled and poked his side, "I love when you talk dirty. Let's go before boy wonder hauls ass in the other direction. Even if his camp is a few clicks away from Bunker Hill we could use the rest and someone else taking watch." The two followed their new acquaintance to this aforementioned camp. By the time they arrived it was dark and quiet. The camp was in decent shape with a tent and an alarm system. Slinger started the fire as the two sat down and proceeded to give them bottles of purified water.

The sense of distrust was in the air just as the smell of decay was. Moss was thrown in the pit along with brittle planks of old crates. Trust was a very valuable thing to be handed out in the wasteland. Slinger got up and handed them the soup he had left and the two nodded as a quiet thanks as he sat back down, "Look the water is clean, the soup could be worse, and even you rough tumblers need to fuel up," Slinger locked eyes with the two knowing what they wanted to hear. "So I have good reason to believe your friend is in Goodneighbor. There is a gunner safe house in the area." he casually took his hat off and threw it onto an upright branch as its wooden hand reached up for the god that seemingly brought atomic fire down upon them.

"Also I may owe you," he coyly muttered under his breath. "I'll take you there. Free of charge!" he tried his best to sound grateful as he waved his hands around the camp, "At the least stay the night and eat and drink your fill decide in the morning."

"We appreciate it. It's hard to discuss details as of now. It's been a long for weeks for us. We've been taking shifts every one to two hours a night," Kenzi's head slumped over onto Vex's shoulder as she drifted to show that what she had said was true. Vex followed shortly after with his service rifle in arms reach in case. The fire was gently crackling as the crickets and chirped away at the star covered night sky making a setting for a rare peaceful night.

 

[Pufftuff]

As the rangers fall slip into sleep. Even asleep they looked stressed out. He still felt uncomfortable being with people at his camp but he owed them....a lot more than they know. Slinger spent most of the night deciding to figure out how to make good on his promise.

As he continued to keep the fire stoked for the night. As the sun began to to rise, that green glow of the rays coming of the radiation still very much alive in the atmosphere. He cooked a small but rich breakfast of some brahmin steaks he had been trying to save and purified some more water. The two woke quickly, a military response for sure.

Slinger handed them food, but no water. They would need it more later. This time the two nodded in what appeared to be actually appreciation. "Seem's like you two haven't slept a full night in some time, eh?" Slinger said eating left over soup.

Vex and Kenzi, looked up. Giving them a moment to respond. Slinger said with some hesitation. Knowing that he was fast but at best there would just be three people bleeding to death in middle of nowhere. So he told them just the first part to read the reaction.

"So last night I know a guy can get us into Goodneighbor without drawing any attention to ourselves." Looking them up and down, "Assuming you can maybe cover some of your....." clearing his throat nervously, "NCR pride?"

 

[Simus]

"Thanks. I know you understand. And you don't have to be sorry. It wasn't your fault." She broke the hug and looked at him, smiling. It felt good to let out her sorrow with another person. She had forgotten just how much that helped. "C'mon. Let's get the hell out of here."

Courtney and Orson scavenged the bodies before making ready to leave. These guys, whoever they were, had top level gear. Assault rifles, combat rifles, army body armor. All of it was in excellent condition so the definitely knew what they were doing but Courtney had to wonder if any of them really knew where their gear came from. Or what that white star on their chest plates meant. They probably didn't and for some reason that reviled her. These thugs had no idea what it meant to be in the U.S Army or what the men and women who made it stood for but then again what did she really expect? If it had really been 200 years then the America she knew was long gone and the army she was a part of was just a memory. Maybe she could bring it back.

For now she set about getting herself equipped. The computers said it was forty degrees outside. Cold but not freezing. Her vault suit was too tight to wear her newly-acquired long johns underneath but she also had found a black t-shirt, jeans and a warm down jacket that would serve as a perfect shell for them. She would have to take all of that with her as it was in the middle of winter, again if the computers were correct. For now she settled on getting battle ready. Her suit was thin enough to make a nice underlayer for the combat armor these mercs wore and after picking around on a few bodies she had a full set. Chest, arm, shoulder, knee and leg plates plus a brown hat that caught her eye. The corners were loosely folded up like an old tri-cornered hat used by the Boston minutemen during the Revolution. She had studied the Revolution and all U.S history like everyone else in school but found it fascinating. She always thought the Minutemen had style and heart that the redcoats or regular Continentals didn't have and that was part of the reason she joined the army. She put the militia hat onto her head, her hair still tied in a loose bun, and found that it fit her well. After grabbing an automatic combat rifle and short-barreled 10 mm pistol along with three grenades she felt she was as ready as she'd ever be.

Next came packing her things into a scavenged rucksack. Her clothing mentioned above, plus a fresh vault suit and the black knee high riding boots she'd found yesterday. She found a brown pair of the same model that went better with her vault suit. Then came the essentials she could find: a toothbrush, toothpaste, a bar of soap in a plastic bag, a roll of duct tape, some sensor modules, a lunchbox and twenty Nuka-Cola caps. The last few items were in case she needed to make a crude mine. Something she'd learned in the army which had saved her life more than once. Lastly were her new pip-boy, her recorded holotapes plus a few blanks ones to continue recording her thoughts and all the money she could find from the vault's former residents. About one hundred dollars. Now that they were ready to leave Courtney decided to make one last recording. Just in case anyone found this place and wanted to know where she went.

"Well, it looks like I'm off. My bomb worked and thanks to my new friend Orson here, plus some merc types who hacked their way into the vault I can leave. Orson's pre-war like me but he was part of the security. He tried to keep the vault together when things...went to plops. He's a good guy who's suffered for a long time and wasn't responsible for what happened to me or anyone else down here. Not even for Nathan or Peter. If you're listening to this and you've climbed out of one of the pods in that back room that I haven't been able to reach just keep that in mind okay? Orson and I are heading to Concord. He says he's got people there who can help me. The way's out for you now. You're not trapped like I was. Come find us and we'll help you as best we can. And if you run into a group of guys called Gunners stay away from them. The hacked in here with a pip-boy and tried to blow their way through one of these walls here. All they really did was fluff up a couple of support beams but Orson took care of them. They were here for me and knew me by name so they might be here for you too. Good luck and remember, find us in Concord. You're not alone. And if you happen to be Nate or Nora I plan on stopping by Sactuary Hills before Concord. I'll check on Codsworth for you. Good luck. Courtney out."

After adding his own little bit Orson shut off the recording and Courtney left the tape with the others by the terminal in her temporary room. She took the pillow and blankets off the bed but there were more in storage. They both headed up to the vault door and Courtney was able to get the door open with her pip-boy. Despite two hundred years it worked like a charm, the old mechanisms grabbing the giant 111 door and sliding it open with a loud screech. The found a large elevator just like the door, the same elevator that brought them both down here when the bombs fell and it too worked like a charm. The sight of the wasteland took Courtney's breath away when they came up top but the three person welcoming committee was not what either expected. One of them was a bearded man and the other was a bit shorter with his face obscured by a gas mask but the third made Courtney's stomach turn. He was a huge yellow creature with cracked leathery skin and was wielding weapons no human would have the strength to hold. He was nothing less than a monster and inside Courtney was terrified.

"Oh plops..."

 

[Daryl Dixon]

"Oh pl***.." Jack returned, being just as surprised as the vault dweller, remembering the picture he saw. "Hold your fire." He ordered to his companions, "They're vault dwellers." While he had no authority over Rufus or Jackal, he knew Rufus had the sense to not fire on two innocents. "Brutus..."

"Yes boss?"

"Make sure we don't have anyone waiting for us back at the town."

"OK, Brutus smash tin can."

"Leave the robot alone, just guard the entrance."

The mutant growled loudly before dragging his feet back to down.

Jack looked to Rufus, then back to to the dwellers, weapons still raised. He had sent Brutus back as, if indeed they're both knew, the sight of a super-mutant would be quite ghastly. Neither of them look crazy, he observed, lowering his gun. "Never seen a super mutant before?" He asked. Brutus' steps could still be heard as he went down the hill. "Pull a weapon on us and I'll drop you, but I trust you're from a more civilized age." They looked vulnerable, like they had been crying. He didn't care much for what little they had on them. He wanted to know if it was worth their time going into that vault. "What was down there? We came to see if it had anything worth taking. I don't know how much you know, but people are barely making it by out here. So if you saw anything down there, like clean water, we'd appreciate it. Otherwise, watch yourself. People out here are just as likely to shoot you as they are look at you."

 

[fellowknight]

"Good idea.." Orson replied, helping Courtney pick through the Gunners of anything useful before they made off.

As expected, they packed heavy gear and lots of ammunition to boot. The uniforms hadn't changed from the last time he'd encountered them, though a few elbow-guards and knee-bracers were prominent. What he was really looking for was the contract note, detailing their target and how to get to her as they had. He found it, tucked in the back of a waistband and plucked it free. He unfolded it and gave it a once over, then another before folding it and stuffing it in his back pocket. He'd been hoping for a name, or indication of some sort as to who hired the Gunners but there was none and that simply frustrated Orson. Moreso, it worried him. If a schedule or signal had been established and these men failed to respond, the client might send more.

Orson would have to be careful on the way back to Concord.

Rifles and magazines clinked together as they climbed the steps and Courtney began to pack, having already armed herself. Orson steadied the barrels of the automatic rifles over his shoulder, setting the dozen magazines in his other hand on a metal table followed by the rifles. He then dragged the table beside a desk and organized the munitions appropriately. He'd also been able to produce a few knives of varying sizes. Those in the pods, assuming any were still alive, would have to face a brutal and rather bitter truth of what they had lost and what the world had become. In that spectrum, they would also have to learn how to defend themselves, and if need be, how to take a life. That wouldn't be a welcoming thought in such a new world, but they deserved at least a chance. And Orson wasn't going to leave them without it.

Courtney, packed and ready to go, activated a recording terminal and wished the survivors good luck on their way out. When she was done, she stepped aside and gave Orson a chance to add on. This caught him by surprise but he went with it as Courtney got ready.

"Right.." He began. "I know this sounds like a bit much to take in, but that's how folks survive out here nowadays. You have to adapt quickly, and defend yourself just as fast. The world we know is gone. And i know some of your neighbors and friends went with it. That was probably the hardest part. Letting go of what we knew. But you can make it. The vault should still have a good amount of food and maybe some water. On a table here, i've left some weapons and hand-written instructions on how to use them properly. Practice, but don't waste all of your shots. Your brain needs to be fast, but bullets are just faster out there. Keep in mind that you can survive. Most of you have never handled a gun before and that's fine. You can learn. When you're ready, make your way to Concord. We can keep you safe, and we'll always have room in our community. Stay together and follow the roads. Above all, stay alive.. Good luck. Orson out."

Minutes later, the two ascended the elevator out of the vault, the wastelands welcoming them with anticipated silence. Courtney was shocked by the scene, as expected, but neither of them had long to take it in. Orson's had shot to the butt of his revolver as three figures greeted them

...
​

The super-mutant was Orson's biggest concern, for obvious reasons, but ultimately from past encounters. One of which broke a few of his ribs and gifted him some nasty bruises. His attentiveness was relieved somewhat as one of the men sent the giant, Brutus, back down the hill. But Orson wouldn't let his guard down so easily.

"Never seen a super mutant before?" He asked. "Pull a weapon on us and I'll drop you, but I trust you're from a more civilized age." Orson didn't let go of the revolver. He didn't know these people and for all he knew, they were dangerous strangers until proven otherwise. "What was down there? We came to see if it had anything worth taking. I don't know how much you know, but people are barely making it by out here. So if you saw anything down there, like clean water, we'd appreciate it. Otherwise, watch yourself. People out here are just as likely to shoot you as they are look at you."

In a fixed gaze, Orson took a baby step forwards and responded. He didn't want these men to take what chance the others had but they were hurting for supplies regardless.

"Yea, i should know just as well as you. I'm not at fresh as she is," he nodded to Courtney. "But we'll figure it out. I'm Orson, one of the more-or-less police officers out of Concord. I'm pre-war and so is she. We've stripped that vault down for what we could take and left the rest for other folks stuck in those pods down there. It isn't much but it's a chance i'd prefer they keep. As a survivor, i hope you understand that."

 

[T. Rakinson]

His Hunting Rifle trained on the now active vault entrance, Rufus backed up a few paces from where he had previously been stood, prefering an attack from a more comfortable range. He wasn't sure what would actually appear; back when he had been a member of the Radblood's he had learned about a Vault not far from where their camp had resided. The Gunner occupation had prevented any exploration into the facility, but a survivalist that had defected from the merc group had talked about the place housing 'some messed up s**t'. The memory made the Ghoul grip his weapon just a bit tighter as the scraping of the elevator drew closer.

When the two heavily-armed but otherwise passive-looking figures appeared in his vision, the Ghoul released the tension on his rifle, allowing Jack to proceed with their introductions. He stood still and began to inspect the apparent Vault Dwellers, nodding in approval when Jack moved on to discussing supplies. The woman was dressed in a strange hybrid of a vault suit and some old-world military armour. She looked clean as people these days went, and he was surprised to hear that the facility had been in disrepair for an extensive amount of time.

The other man, who had a look more befitting of a Wastelander but claimed to have also once been an occupant of the Vault, was the one to step forward and converse with Jack. He understandably sounded wary in their introduction. "I'm Orson, one of the more-or-less police officers out of Concord. I'm pre-war and so is she. We've stripped that vault down for what we could take and left the rest for other folks stuck in those pods down there. It isn't much but it's a chance i'd prefer they keep. As a survivor, i hope you understand that."

Rufus was taken aback at their claims of being people who had been around pre-war, even after they mentioned 'pods'. The idea that someone could have survived the centuries following the Great War without experiencing physical deteriation like himself was quite a lot to take in. A curious voice within his head suggesting looking into the technology below, but he decided against suggesting it, hearing the concern in Orson's last few sentences. A silence descended between the two pairs.

A bird flew over the small trailer where Brutus had found the elevator button, and was suddenly snatched out of the air by a deformed hand. The two vault dwellers were quickly on alert, and as Jackal dropped down to the floor he looked up to see the two new faces. He rushed back into the trailer, jumped on a table that offered a view out of the enclosure, and shrieked at them both.
Figuring the lack of an explanation would lead to violence, the more intelligent Ghoul spoke up, not bothering to go into as much detail as he had with Jack before. "He's with us." Rufus quickly summarised.

He took it upon himself to quickly introduce the three of them, whilst the feral continued to voice its dislike. His partner suddenly turned and snapped at him. "Knock it off, would ya'? They're not enemies. Actually, why don't you head back over to Sanctuary? Try and find us some food." "FOOD." He repeated so that Jackal properly understood the command. The feral cautiously emerged from the trailer without averting his eyes from the vault dwellers, before suddenly dashing off in the same direction as Brutus.

After seeing his companion dissapear the scavenger turned to look at Orson. "You said you're from Concord?" He recalled how he and Jackal had skirted around the unfamiliar town; all the tall buildings and open streets could have easily hosted an ambush for unwary travellers. "If that place was a settlement, it sure did a good job of hiding it."

 

[Simus]

Courtney became a little less freaked out when that giant yellow monster, that "super mutant" as the guy with the eye patch called it, walked away and way less freaked out when that...zombie ran off to catch food for the guy in the gas mask. She wasn't sure what a thing like that ate but she didn't think on it very hard. Then Orson and the men started talking about the vault. She wasn't about to let them down there and Orson really wasn't helping by telling them there were survivors down there. For all she knew they could sell them as slaves. They wouldn't believe him when he said they'd stripped everything down because most people took that as a challenge to find something they didn't. She certainly would. No, it was time for her to take action. She wasn't about to let these men paw through Nathan and Peter's bodies like they were duffle bags. Ignoring the eye patch man's threat she took out a grenade from her new utility belt and held it out in front of her with her right hand, her left hand just over the pin.

"You're not going into that vault." She said in a stern, cold voice. She was angry again. Angry of the people who had literally reduced her world to ash and angry at their descendants who were ready to plunder this vault like a sunken ship. It was cold, dark and full of death but it was the only part of this world she was familiar with and she would damn these men to Hell if they tried to take it away from her. "It's got good shelter, warm clothing and a reliable water source and a week's worth of food for me. It's also got my husband and son down there and neither of you or your pet freaks are gonna touch them. You can't even get in without a pip-boy and if you take another step I'm gonna pull this pin and blow both it and myself up. People are still alive down there, sleeping. They're my neighbors, down the hill behind you is our neighborhood, and as the only member who's currently awake I'm gonna protect it from grave robbers like you. Now you're gonna turn around and leave or I and this pip-boy blow up. We understand each other?"

 

[Daryl Dixon]

"Lass, I suggest you let your friend here do the talking." He said, being too weathered to be annoyed at her insults. "Considering you've just gone through a loss, I'll mark those insults off as not being in the right state of mind right now." Jack looked over to Orson. "And you'd really just blow him up, would you? Doesn't surprise me. You people were stupid enough to nuke the world. Bravo. Now you can live with it." He said, hoping to hit close to home. "We won't loot the place, I'm gonna respect Orson's wishes. We aren't savages. But don't make an enemy of us when you're here begging us to not go down. If you want to stop us, without force, just show some damn respect."

He was really considering shooting her here and now for the trouble. Disrespect this far away from civilization earns you two things. A bullet or a bludgeoning. He tried hard to not revert back to the old days when he was a raider but people like her really made it hard. Because Rufus was there and ONLY because Rufus was there he was going to try and connect with these people like he did with Rufus. If he and the ghoul can get along with insulting or shooting each other, maybe they can here too. If not, well, they had plenty of ammo.

He took out the old faded photograph from earlier and looked at it, before looking up at her. Yeah, it was definitely her. Along with what he guessed were her husband and son. He pulled out a cigar, put it in his mouth and then drew a lighter. It took some willpower to control his impulses, but he lit his cigar instead of the photo. Putting his lighter away, he held his cigar in his bad for a moment before taking another puff. "Think this belongs to you."

He held the photograph out, she seemed to hesitate. "You're either gonna come here and take it or I'm gonna burn it. It's no use to me." He said. "But you should probably have this."

 

[Wolfbane]

“Too much NCR pride? These people barely even know who the NCR is, let alone what the people like us do. If hiding who we are gets us where we need to go so be it. We’ll put our dusters away but breast plate stays. The only symbol on here is the two headed bear. Anything else can be covered,” both Rangers took their dusters off as well as change into their civilian gear. Kenzi’s outfit consisted of a sleeveless stressed leather long coat and an off white shirt along with dark brown cargo pants and boots along with finger-less gloves. Around her neck was her bandanna that she always had for dust storms out in the Mojave. She figured to leave the rebreather home and just bring the bandanna. Now however, the piece of frilled cloth covered their motto and insignia to avoid suspicion. The only thing left was her kill count which could be chalked up as her being a good shot or just being a blood thirsty bitch; which she could be from time to time. Vex simply had a white shirt and his combat pants, opting for an extremely normal look.

They now both had their rifles and their sidearms and could blend in with the crowd. From the short time they’ve been here the people don’t seem that much different. Aside from being more cautious and more civil, if that’s the appropriate word to describe the people of the Commonwealth, it doesn’t seem too different from the Mojave. In a way it was easier when the people just want to know what you want and when you want it. The only differences were better weather and those ugly pipe weapons the raiders use around these parts.

“Let’s be on our way then, yeah? The sooner we find her the better. This is already becoming a long enough goose chase,” She gave up a long and exhaled sigh, signaling that they really needed to find Paz before the situation becomes inherently worse. There are a few outcomes; she completes her job and moves on before they could ever catch her, she kills them in an ambush, they kill her in an ambush, or they all get killed in an ambush in the unlikely chance that Paz performs a double cross on her current employer. All considered possibilities involve blood. When they were a team Paz was happy and above all loyal to what she was doing. Sure she questioned their higher ups but she always carried out the mission successfully. The three were inseparable; the three of them could only stand each other and knew how to work of each other. It was like a tight knit family-the three musketeers-one for all and all for one. There was nothing they couldn’t handle. One day Paz took a solo assignment that came out of nowhere. Almost as if she did the research herself. When command heard that she went out on this unknown assignment they sent a team to look for her just in case she went AWOL. When the team found her, well, let’s just say she lost a part of her. They came back only talking about the look in her eyes when they found her; drowning in a pool of hate and blood, and almost enjoying the visceral destruction.

Maybe that’s why Kenzi was so angry; the fact that she went out on some personal mission without telling her team, without telling her family that she was leaving. What if they could have pulled her out of the abyss? What if they could have brought her back into the real world? Unfortunately that was not the case. What would make her go out and lose herself? The details were never really talked about. Who knows why? As she took out a smoke to start her day off her eyes veered towards Vex. What did he think about all this? Aside from herself Paz, or rather Riley, was the only person he connected to on a deep level. It’s what made the team so useful. The three had this linked mind that worked in synchronicity. If one made a move the other would capitalize on the success of the previous person.

It also pained her, and it pained vex more so to refer to her as Paz. Sure Kenzi calls Vex by his callsign but it’s only out in the open. The three were only called by their respective call signs during a mission or on base. Other than that they all used their actual names when on leave. Kenzi always wanted to ask what vex thought about all this, but knew that it would only make him either more determined or angrier. She remembered when the report came in he almost seemed lost, as if it was some sick joke. One could hope that maybe she turned rogue for a good reason and not just for greed. The fact remains that Riley herself has committed crimes that need answering in either in a military court or with blood. She decided to allow him to tell her when he was ready. After all even the two of them need space. Her brain now focused on the fact that her death stick needed a light in ordered to be smoked.



“She’s got a lot to answer for and not just crimes either,” he tightened his grip on his service rifle, ‘like leaving without her team. Leaving without saying goodbye or some sort of message saying ‘I’ll be back when I’m done’. She just left without a single god damn notice.’ His cheek twitched in anger as the thought seeped deeper into him, like water soaking the mud after a heavy downpour. Did all the talks and laughs mean nothing? Did she still have her photo? All of it made him want to strangle her with his bare hands while also simply asking why? We hurt the ones we love the most…

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Riley had found herself at Gunner’s plaza staring at the main globe in the hall over hearing the chattering of the men and women cut from the same cloth. Most gunners were ex-military at one point or another so there was a robust form of hierarchy amongst the people. Riley was up around the mid-tier being able to lead her own squad. Most squad leaders have at least five to six members for the simple fact of more firepower. However, Riley believes that if you have a small squad you can move faster, quieter, and separate and regroup easier. Not to mention there is a smaller chance of someone trying to perform a coupe against the current leader. She is a decent and fair leader. She doesn’t expect to her men to perform acts that go against their principle. However if they go against what she believes by hurting a child or woman than they are either killed or they lose a finger. She doesn’t like it when a parent is killed but sometimes the husband has to be put down.



The longer she does this the more fragments the only good parts of her gets lost. Never has the rabbit hole been so deeper. To the Gunners she is known for being ruthless and cold, often handling death of a “friendly” lighter than she should. In her mind they are all pawns and the best way to counter her opponent’s move is to remain calm and plan her move accordingly. Whether it’s fighting or a deadly game of deduction she always plans ahead and remains cool and collective. She’d kill every last one of these people if it meant finding answers. It’s the only thing driving her other than revenge or self-hatred; Self-hatred for the fact that she enjoys the rush of the killing more than she did when she did it for good. She remembers how she felt when she exacted revenge; the feeling of 1,000 suns bursting; the past inside the present all coated in a dreamy haze. It made her skin warm up and cool down almost in tandem. There was nothing like what she had experienced. Was it a sign that she was becoming nothing more than what her team killed? It almost seemed she was doing all these jobs to see how far down she can dig until she was buried alive by the very dirt she displaced. Her footsteps shot around the vast room as she aimlessly wondered in her own thoughts. In some way she was hoping to get caught. Her train of thought was derailed as she bumped shoulders into one of her kind.

”Watch it, whore. Shouldn’t you be making me some god damned food instead of putting on the big boy pants?” There was snickering among the man’s friends for a small while. Riley continued to stare off into space before they turned to the man’s face and her head turned sideways, making her ruby red hair hang down. The merc’s eyes widened in confusion before he took a step back, “What’s your fluffing problem? You mad that a man put you in your place, you dirty bog-trotter,” as he turned to leave, he felt a slender hand touch his shoulder making him spin into a punch, breaking her nose in a crack and a stream of blood. She simply smiled as she set it back in place and allowing the blood to remain in place before uttering a sentence, “I’ll give you one chance to take back what you said before I make you swallow your own tongue. There’s nothing worse than a man who can’t perform,” a defying laugh exited her mouth as she studied the man. All she could focus on was the lack of hygiene this animal had due to the matte of dirt and spit in his many beard and the locks of black hair.



“Can’t perform? That’s not what your mother said as I plowed her like an irish whore,” the nappy merc spit on Riley’s boots. There was a pause between the two opponents before suddenly it went black; no words or sounds left her mouth. Not even a single breath. Her left cheek twitched. The insult echoed through her head and reverberated off the image of her dead mother holding her father in a red pool of their own blood, emptied pistol in her hand.

A right hand flew up and hit the man under the jaw, causing his tongue to be bitten off and fly off landing at his feet before a left hand impacted his gut followed by a kick to the left knee, causing it to snap like a twig. Riley had left, now it was the rabid animal that she tried to contain. She grabbed his hair and quickly retracted her knee into his face slingshotting him to the ground. Now she stood before him, her eyes emptied of everything good, leaving it a death addled shell. Her body trembled as she dropped to her knees before she proceeded to bash the merc’s face in again and again. All he could was scream and try to fight her off while getting his face caved inside itself. A shaky hand shot up gripping at her face trying to get free but simply gets broken by the wrist as she continued to punch; one full swing after another; right hand, left hand, right hand, left hand. With every attempted struggle the deeper she got in her rage. This was not a fight; it was destroying the very ideal of a god condemning her by taking her parents away, taking all the memories of her mom and dad and drowning it face first in copper tasted blood. She was bashing the image of her own shattered face again and again. She was destroying everything she hated in this filthy, disgusting world in a fit of sheer pleasure.



“NEVER… EVER… SAY THAT. YOU fl*ffING HEAR ME, YOU DAFT BASTARD!!?!?!” she fell back on the floor sweeping her hair back smearing the blood on her face before getting up and making her way to turn in a list of the targets that were rounded up and gave it to her commanding officer to send to the institute who only talks to her superiors, “If I can ask one thing, sir. Is there a job that involves us putting down raiders? I want to feel like good guy again,”

“Yes, they’ll be at the four leaf packing plant. I saved this job just for you. You okay Paz? You lost your plops and if it wasn’t you we’d have a serious problem.”

“You ever get those bad dreams you can’t wake up from?” a single tear ran down her face leaving a clean trail through the blood appearing almost like sweat to anyone else. Suffer in silence, much like a horse this is what she has.

 

[fellowknight]

Orson grinded his teeth on the edge of tension. Between the gas-mask questioning the existence of his settlement and Courtney holding a live grenade, a pressure was building in his chest. Concord had lasted too many raids as it was and he should've shared that with Courtney but who was he to further deny her hope?

And if what the mask had said was true, then Stanson forced the community to migrate without telling him. Edward Stanson was a real dick who usually dogged for attention and in the worst case, sent a handful of good rookies to their deaths. The fact that his dad was the Chief of Police didn't help any either. So Stanson continued to drive a wedge between the community and it's trust in law-enforcement. And that was a build-up leaning towards what Orson wished he hadn't heard.

"Usually after we've endured a raid, everyone heads into their homes and bunkers down. Standard procedure since the bombs fell. But in the event the raids were considered to be too severe, we had an emergency route to another settlement plotted. They should be headed there if they're not in Concord."

Silence fell and it was a while before Orson realized his hand was resting on the butt of his holstered revolver. Jack had lit up a cigarette and held out a photograph to Courtney, who hesitated. Orson couldn't tell a thing wrong with the situation but he'd have to be quick if either tried anything.

Seeing the tamed Ghoul leave reminded Orson of his gun-bag he'd left down in the neighborhood and he grew moreso anxious to end the encounter but he kept his calm and waited patiently. Aside from the obvious 'stranger-danger' vibe, Orson's past tendencies leading up to his career in law enforcement taught him that a steady hand meant the difference between life and death.

He sure a pl*ps wasn't dying today.

 

[Simus]

"Wait!" Courtney shouted as the eye patch man held his cigar to the photo. It was the most recognizable photo in her home and she would do anything to get it back. Considering it was being offered to her she was more than willing to put down her grenade and cooperate. She put the grenade back onto her utility belt next to her two others, put her arms down and walked forward, slowly. She didn't listen to Orson talking about the safety procedures for his settlement. She didn't care about his people. Considering the passable condition her photo was in her home must still be standing and she had to find it. Even if it wasn't there anymore, Sanctuary Hills was just down the hill and it was still her neighborhood. She could and would reclaim whatever was left of it.

She took the photo from the man's outstretched hand and took a good look at it. It was definitely hers, a good memory from happier times. She and Nathan were sitting on their living room couch. Nathan was in a gray sweatshirt and jeans with white socks. His clean-shaven face was showing complete content as he was holding a giggling Peter out in front of him, his large hands under Peter's armpits holding him steady. Peter was in a light blue pair of footy pajamas and holding his arms out as if he were flying. He felt like a rocket hurtling through the atmosphere as his daddy held him above the ground. Courtney was snuggled up next to Nathan on his left, arms wrapped around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. Her hair was down and her face was clean of makeup but it was spotless and smiling. She was in a black t-shirt over a white long underwear top, a pair of skinny jeans and a pair of black knee-high riding boots on. The same model as the ones she found in the vault and the brown ones she was wearing now. Nate and Nora had taken the picture to celebrate their new family. The date was March 23rd 2077, one month after Peter was born and eight months before the bombs fell.

"Thank you." She said. "Thank you so much." She started to cry again. She didn't want to. It wouldn't solve anything, but she had good reasons to cry and trying to stop the tears would only make more of them. So, she figured, fluff it. "This is a picture of us back in March of 2077. Nine months before the bombs fell." She paused to sniffle. Two tears rolled down her face. "It was our first family picture. Th...that's me and my husband Nathan. We...we'd gotten married a year before." She paused again and chocked down a sob. "That baby in Nathan's arms? Th...that's our baby. Our son...Peter...my baby. He was only a month old...Our friends Nate and Nora took that picture for us...we were so happy...None of us thought about the bombs or our time in the army or the news from China, or the rumors from Vault-Tec." She was openly crying now and could barely talk. "None of us knew what was coming...how close to death we all were...what those Vault-Tec bastards had inside their vaults...what they really had planned for us...what they were gonna take from me..."

She couldn't talk anymore. It was too hard and she was crying too much. "Peter! My baby! Those monsters killed my baby!" She screamed. Then she clinched her fists, so hard her nails dug into her palms. She stood there and cried for almost a minute before she could finally calm down enough to talk again. She felt ashamed and embarrassed for showing so much emotion in front of strangers who must have lived harder lives than her. Her voice was empty and hollow, the voice of a woman with no hope. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I just...I'm not sure if I can go on like this. Please, take me back to the house you found this picture in. I need to see my home again...our home. I don't know if it'll help but I've got nowhere else to go. After that I don't care what you do. Go down to the vault if you really want to. There's power, water and guns down there and there's good beds to sleep in. Vault suits that are pretty comfortable plus some civvie clothes. There's even some food and booze left. Enough to keep me fed for about two weeks. You can take whatever you want just please, don't disturb the dead. Let Nathan and Peter rest."

 

[Pufftuff]

The reluctant NCR agents covered most of their defining insignias if you will. Slinger quickly packed his things, everything he owned every item fit into his large duffel that slung over his back. Interesting if your whole life fits in a bag. Does that make is simple? Is it sad? It's hard to tell.

"Welp, if that's the way it has to be I won't argue." He spoke under a labored breath situating his bag. "So...this 'friend' of mine he's....well he is as much an ass as an idiot."

As they approached a large caravan camp. Slinger turned and looked directly at the two very seriously. "Remember what I said. So Kenzi try and keep calm, Vex.....just don't kill anyone." with a sigh he led them to a big tent at the far end of the camp. Inside was a fat disgusting man. His tent reeked of gas, old food, and something that is better to not think about....

Slinger walked up to the man slid him a few caps and whispered in his ear. Holding his breath he quickly walked back to the rangers. Pointed to everyone in turn "Kenzi and Vex! These are the best guns in the common wealth for getting your merchandise where it needs to be. And this is Grant Marx....owner of Marx movers." The man grumbled and struggled to his feet. "Happy to have you we will be going to Goodneighbor." as he looked over the two he stopped at Kenzi "You say best guns I say you brought be one of the finest....if you'd like to make a little extra. Well darling you let ole' Grant know."

After rushing the two out Kenzi threw a fit insisting there to be a better way. Vex well Vex looked like he was gonna burn the camp down. Slinger reassured the two that it was only a couple days and they could avoid that disgusting pile of flesh most of the time. "If you want to get in without scaring off your friend this is it. We leave soon get ready."

Slinger walked away and seemed to change demeanor's. He wasn't good at being around people it stressed him out but for some reason that he couldn't explain he was happy. For a no good gunslinger he felt like he wasn't just floating through another job. He quickly shook his thoughts and put his non expressive face right back on.

 

[Wolfbane]

As they approached a large caravan camp. Slinger turned and looked directly at the two very seriously. The two partners tried their best to look serious while trying not to laugh at the sight of the people in the caravan, "Remember what I said. So Kenzi try and keep calm, Vex.....just don't kill anyone," the group had just approached a large band of guards, merchants and caravan leaders. The two Rangers looked at one another and smiled as well as they finished off their sentences,

"No..."
"Promises," just by the look of the man that they were approaching Kenzi knew she'd have to pull out the innocence she lost just to charm this creep into getting into a place that they could do alone. Quietly if need be, but that would turn into them shooting their way to see if there is a single shred of her being there. Times like these she wishes she had no impulse control and either punched the guy, gutted him like the fat dirty swine he is. The look and smell of him made her skin crawl as if looks can reach out and touch a person's skin.

Vex's snickering welcomed in a punch on the arm by Kenzi who was really not looking forward to this and it could be seen from a mile away.

"Kenzi and Vex! These are the best guns in the common wealth for getting your merchandise where it needs to be. And this is Grant Marx....owner of Marx movers," Slinger motioned to the man as he grumbled and rose up and waddled towards them, "You say best guns I say you brought be one of the finest....if you'd like to make a little extra. Well darling you let ole' Grant know," his sunken eyes slithered up and down on her body, violating her out in the open.

"Better keep it professional or this fine ass will make sure your sh*itting out of a new hole. If we maintain our professionalism, then we won't have a problem. We thank you for the help," any thought of pulling out the charm was lost and when he mentally undressed her while they talked. The three rushed out as fast as they could. Kenzi looked down and noticed she was digging her nail in her thumb all the while. They couldn't get away from that damned place sooner, "There is a thousand ways to enter that place. Why did we almost try to whore myself out?"

"Not to mention the other ways would be a hell of a lot funner. Either way we have a way in, yeah?" Vex raised an eyebrow at Kenzi who was visibly pouting, "She was probably already 'scared' off when Marx tried to tell her that he'd love to peg her in the ass." Slinger walked away leaving the two to themselves and as well as with the thought that she might be here and waiting for them. The two had no idea which way the final meeting would go; would it be peaceful and quick or would there be fists and bullets flying around? What if she turned herself over and actually wanted to help them? Would that even be possible? If it was what would be the next step? All these questions could wait until they actually confront her face to face.

"Do you think she could still be here and in Goodneighbor?"

"No. Not if she was smart, which she is. However, we could get better leads. Either way its the only way to get closer without wandering around aimlessly. Right now she is one step ahead of us. So for now we keep our king in the back."

"So what you're saying, not in fl*ffing chess terms, is that we take the scraps that are given to us? fl*ff that. We need to go on the offensive. Let's get this over with and continue with our mission. With luck I can get hit on by some asshole and thus kick his ass one or two times to get the ole oil flowing..." slender fingers wrapped around the other fist and popped the knuckles in hopeful anticipation of a fight or two, if she was lucky. For now, she'll have to be satisfied with being one step closer to getting Paz. The group made their way back to wherever the hell they were going.

 

[Daryl Dixon]

"Hi there." Courtney said groggily as she sat up. "Come on in I guess."

Jack entered the ramshackle home. Courtney had made herself comfy, with her boots and hat now being removed. She was laying on the couch before he had disturbed her. "How are you holding up?" He asked. He sat aside her on the couch, hoping to establish some kind of comfort. He had noticed the workbenches outside, along with the power armour station, there was a lot he wished to talk about with her but it simply wasn't the time right now. He looked at her and saw back into the distant past. What was it like back then, when you didn't have to kill someone just to stay alive? He quickly snapped back to the present moment after letting his mind wander and remembered what he came to say. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Raw deal you were handed. Thought I might check up on you. Do you know what you'll do now?"

She seemed to think for a few moments about her answer. "You know I'm not really sure. The world and the community I knew is gone and Orson doesn't sound too confidant that there's a Concord left to go too. All I really have left is here, in this house and this neighborhood. But this isn't my home anymore. It's a graveyard, so I don't see much point in staying. I don't suppose the United States Army still exists? Or if you even know what that is? I was planning on reenlisting but then that whole nuclear war thing happened so that ship sailed. How did it all...you know...happen? Does anybody even remember?"

He listened carefully to what she had to say. She was a soldier. Maybe she does have something in common with him. He tried his best to answer her, but it was hard to suppress the rage he held at the rulers from her time.

"We don't know much about what happened. It was 200 years ago, most people don't think about. But uh, they exist. They're the Enclave. Not sure what happened to them or if they were even real, trader from way out east told me about them. Genocidal maniacs, he called them. Try killing everyone who isn't one of them. Can tell they followed the ideals of your world, with the way nuclear weapons were just kept around. Only good for one thing that, and you're living in it." Before continuing on, he changed the way he was speaking about her time. "I don't mean to belittle when you came from and I don't blame you.. It's just... For so long I've hated the military of your world. I know soldiers weren't making the calls, but.."

He decided it was best to just stop.

"So the rumors were true..." Courtney said after Jack was done describing what he knew about how and why the world screwed itself over. It was a strange response for a conversation that ended with him decrying the military she served in and he looked a little confused so she decided to explain. "When I was in the service, up in Alaska, there were always guys in our unit that seemed to have it better than everyone else. And I'm not talking about them being better fed or equipped. We were allowed to grab pretty much whatever we could carry so long as we signed for it and we were in a warzone so resupply of the best gear was never guaranteed. I'm talking about guys who couldn't be touched. They never got crap assignments, they never got into trouble for fighting and they always, always rose through the ranks faster than everyone else with way less work. Yet all of their work was mysteriously in order. The running joke among the rest of us was they were members of the Enclave. A wild conspiracy theory about a secret group of politicians and businessmen who ran the country and the separation of powers and the Constitution was all for show. Most of us never believe it but there were a few nutjobs who made it their mission to find these guys and expose them. We always thought they were nuts but if you know who they are, 200 years after those rumors started....well...guess the joke's on us."

"And let me tell you something about our leaders. They were a bunch of idiots who took a world that was running out of resources and throwing it into chaos. You don't have to tell me that there are people in this time that look at my...time period with rose-colored glasses but it was just as pl*ps as now. Sure our houses were nicer, we had more food and we were relatively safe but we were completely at the mercy of whoever was in charge. Every morning I watched the news and it showed a world of governments going to war, people rioting for basic necessities and anyone who was out of line being gunned down. Hell, I remember a riot in Lexington over a complete cutoff of gasoline to the city and you know how the cops handled it? They called the National Guard and they sent in giant APC's loaded with troops in Power Armor. With flamethrowers. Power armor and flamethrowers. To stop a riot. So when you tell me the military I served in was all a bunch of monsters, remember who was in charge. Remember it was the politicians who ordered the bombs to fall and everybody else, people like me, had to pay the price."

Yet you made it safe and sound to a vault? He thought, although he kept it to himself. She lost her family. She did pay a heavy price. He cursed himself for even thinking such a thought. She took a deep breath and calmed down a little. "Sorry about that. There's just a lot I need to get off my chest and you're the only person besides Orson who I've been able to talk to. What I'm trying to say is...I don't blame you for hating my world. There was a lot about it I hated myself but it wasn't all bad."

"It's alright. I prefer you to let it all out here than threaten to blow yourself up again. And I'm sure there was a lot of good about it. I just wish those that created this world had to live in it, and that we got to live back when it was green again."

Rubbing his temples he thought about what he was going to do now that there was two pre-wars and two ghouls in Sanctuary. Is anybody normal anymore?

"There isn't much in the way of supplies out here, but it is safer. If you're headed out you could come with me when me and Brutus leave. The others might, too. Safety in numbers, that sort of thing." He pulled out his map and marked Sanctuary safe. It was an old map of the Boston area, although quite worn and degraded, you could still make out the roads and locations marked on it. He kept it in his lap as he pulled out his silenced pistol. "You can hold onto this until you get yourself your own gun, it's small but it gets the job done."

"You can keep your gun. I've got two over there." She pointed to her combat rifle and pistol. They were with her rucksack in the right-hand corner of the room beside her now shattered TV. Jack upon noticing this holstered his weapon.

"We're here," he said holding his map and pointing at Sanctuary. "I know a nice lass in Goodneighbor who is from before the war. She's uh, she's a ghoul so she doesn't look as pretty as you do. Ghoul's are like that thing Rufus had following him, only they're not all like that. Most of them are just like us but they live longer and look like a corpse." Studying the map he tried to think of the best route. "We can loop around to Diamond City, stay there, head out to Bunker hill in the morning. Then, if we're still alive, head up to Goodneighbor." He showed her the route he had in mind. "It's far but, that's where civilization is."

"Thanks for the map. It looks like I've got a map here on my pip-boy but having a physical copy always help. I don't really have any reason to say here. It doesn't make sense to if no one lives here and you're not staying. So I guess I'll stick with you and your...friend. But before we go we should probably get some sleep. Maybe you could catch me up on a few of the things you've just mentioned. For starters, what exactly...IS...your friend? No offense but he's ugly as fl*ff and that "ghoul" running around with the guy in the gas mask? The one he talked to like a dog? He looks like a fl*ffin' zombie and if you didn't specifically say so I'd have shot him already. I'm guessing Bunker Hill refers to the memorial of the battle of the same name and Goodneighbor's some sort of town but what's Diamond City? There's a baseball stadium pretty far south of here named Diamond Park but you're telling me people made a town out of there now? What, do the guards wear umpire gear or something?" She asked with a sarcastic smile.

While it, oddly enough, made his heart melt to watch someone who was just crying and had only just lost her entire family to smile again, he had no idea what she was talking about.

"I have no idea what an umpire is but I'll try get through this quick. I'll start with Brutus. Yeah, he's ugly. You aren't going to offend me but I'd probably keep that opinion to yourself around him. Least, until he likes you. He's a-"

Heavy footsteps came running to the doorway and Brutus ducked under the door and stepped into view. "Jack call Brutus?"

"No.. Just explaining what super mutants are."

"Someday, super mutants kill everything." He said, trying to explain for his good friend.

Jack closed his eyes and let out a heavy sigh. "Red flags Brutus, red flags..."

"Jack and friend don't have to worry, Brutus protect human friends."

He stared Brutus down until he took the hint and left.

"Sorry about that. As I was saying, he's a super mutant. A human modified by a virus, supposedly made by the pre-war military..." He gave her a look, wanting to say just more reasons to hate your people, but didn't say anything. "This is probably why all the creatures out here mutated, might even explain ghouls. I don't know. But they can't die naturally. Both ghouls and mutants live for very long periods of time. I've heard tell of intelligent super mutants, never seen them myself. Probably a load of roachpl*ps. They're all dumb as bricks."

Jack thought of the trip ahead, it was far, they probably should sleep before heading out in the morning. "If you want to sleep, that's fine. Figured you'd of had enough of that for a lifetime though. And Diamond City IS inside the baseball stadium, the walls keep them safe. Wasn't a bad place till they kicked all the ghouls out. The non-ferals. Damn cowardly that was."

Jack thought back to some of his memories at Diamond City, then Bunker Hill. Eric and Davies, two people he had to remove from The Steel Snakes for insubordination. They lived in Diamond City and he did not want to ever see them again. Not after what happened. "Bunker Hill.. I don't know about a memorial but there is a huge monument in the center of town. Real defensible."

He frowned for a moment. "Long story short, just about everything you see is filled with something or someone who's going to try and kill you." He stood up. "I know how bad you want to cling to your old life. This house," he said gesturing to the crumbling walls. "But come outside with me. We could get some target practice done, see how rusty you are after 200 years. Might be good to practice some close quarters combat too. It's dangerous out there. Besides, I want to see how they fought in the old world."

"Fair enough. Let's go." Courtney got up and put her boots back on. Then she put her hat back on and headed outside. Most of the yard was dead grass and broken picket fences, as to be expected, there was garbage everywhere. Beer bottles, open tin cans, food wrappers, even the severed head of a teddy bear. Was probably one of her son's toys, he thought, although Courtney didn't seem to have any attachment to it.

She took several of the items and lined them on top of the relatively intact section of fence, wedging them onto the points so they would stay up. Afterwards she stepped back about twenty paces and got out her pistol. She saw that Jack was watching so she took a deep breath, clicked the safety off and carefully lined up her shot on the first target; a tin can to the far left. She looked down the sites and took in a slow, steady breath, slowly squeezing the trigger until it was a hair's length from firing. Finally, after ten seconds, she fired. The bullet hit the middle of the tin can and sent it flying back into a tree, hitting it with a hard smack. She smiled at her success and lined up her shot on the second tin can. This time it only took her five seconds to fire. The third took three. The fourth went down almost immediately after she aimed at it, barely a second apart. Years of training and combat came back to her as she got into the zone and turned to four more tin cans to her right. She used two shots each to take them down, one immediately after the other, all of them hitting on target and all four cans taken down in just eight seconds. The final target, a glass bottle, was on a wooden post right next to Jack. Courtney had one bullet left and she intended to make it count. She spun around immediately after the last can fell, leveled her pistol and immediately fired. The bullet hit the top of the bottle, snapped it at the neck and sent the remainder and the glass away from Jack, all of it landing on the floor with an unceremonious thud.

Courtney reloaded her gun, put the safety back on and holstered it, satisfied that she still had it. She gave a sideways look and grin to Jack. "Satisfied?" she asked wryly. He walked toward her, slowly clapping. "You're pretty good."

He stopped about three meters from her and swiftly drew his gun and aimed it at her temple. "But don't ever turn your safety on, or you'll be dead before you can get it back off." He took a step back, as to not deafen her, aimed slightly to the right and shot the tiles on the house behind her. Less noticeable, he had hit where 4 tiles joined to form somewhat of a t. The shot was mostly to demonstrate how she couldn't have drawn her weapon, clicked the safety off and shot him before he shot her. His pistol was silenced, but he still felt the need to step back before he had fired.

He holstered his iron. "If anybody ever tells you leave your weapons outside or with them, you refuse. If anyone wants to hold onto your caps-" He paused, half smiled, and realized. "You drink a cola or scull a beer, hold onto the cap. It's money round these parts. Yeah, bottlecaps. More durable than that paper pl*ps you guys lugged around in the old days." He got into a fighting stance.

"You might not always have a weapon at your disposal. Try take me down." Before either of them could move an inch gunfire consumed the air, a barrage of bullets whizzing past Jack's face, he rolled to the side and drew his rifle. Courtney too, gun in hand, had turned toward to gunfire. Jack clutched his rifle, aiming it at Brutus. From down the street the mutant waved. "SORRY!" He yelled. "DIDN'T KNOW GUN HAD BULLETS!"

"What could he have possibly been..." Jack looked at Courtney. "This idiot probably attracted some unwanted attention. Dunno where he found the AK, but.." Jack sighed. He was tired. He didn't want to check the perimeter. He was okay with Courtney's little training session, it was necessary to see her skills and for her to have some confidence in herself. Maybe it'd cheer her up, knowing she still kicks ass. Besides, a pistol isn't that loud.

Now, due to mutant stupidity, a rifle has been fired possibly attracting all sorts of unwanted attention. Jack, Brutus, Rufus, Jackal and Orson were in the arena. Raiders might be too. Just how tired he was really started to settle in his features, going from rather upbeat ready to dreary in a matter of minutes. "Now I've got to make sure raiders don't surprise us in our sleep, I'm going to check out the surrounding areas. Maybe even poke around the route we're walking tomorrow. Good job today, I'm impressed. Life's giving you one hell of a beating and you're taking it like a champ. I'll see you tomorrow." He extended a hand to her before he departed.

"I guess that makes sense about the safety. I'll have to remember that. Old habits die hard." When Jack initially told Courtney people used bottle caps as currency she thought he was joking with her but he really was serious. She guessed it made a certain amount of sense but it would take some getting used to. "I guess the durability factor makes sense. Plus considering there's no longer an economy I guess money would lose its value but...wow...bottle caps as currency. That's...gonna take some getting used to. Anyway, I'll see you tomorrow. Try to keep your friend from shooting off our head again okay?"

She walked off toward her house, likely to get some sleep. Jack closed his hand into a fist as she ignored his handshake, angry at her. "Bitch." He mumbled, when he was sure she couldn't hear him. He walked down the street, upon passing Brutus told him to stay in the area. As he passed Courtney's house he could see her on the couch, probably sleeping.

Jack made his way to the Red Rocket truck stop, and hid out in there for a few hours. If anything came through, he would see them. He didn't account for the other sides, but he knew the area well enough to know there was nothing but bugs off to the right side of the Sanctuary exit bridge. It was the people he was more concerned about. After three hours had passed he decided nothing was coming and headed down the street, sneaking toward Concord.

He ducked behind some sandbags as he noticed some raiders. They were chatting about something, but he couldn't hear them. He sat there for a solid 15 minutes before a few others came out and they started walking up the street, toward Jack and Sanctuary. He knew that's not where they were headed, but he couldn't have them here tomorrow. Getting out his rifle he flicked the scope to a higher magnification and measured his shots. He would be able to get 3 dead before they knew what was happening, 2 before they got to cover and one when he popped his head up again. He began firing, they dropped quicker than you could say dumb fl*ffs. He had overestimated them as the last raider tripped over his friends body before making it to cover. He died on the ground.

Jack reloaded his rifle and continued down the street, collecting ammo off of the corpses. One of them had two stimpaks he retrieved. For the next few hours he continued to search the area meeting little to no resistance. Eventually he returned to the Red Rocket truck stop and fell asleep in an old chair.

 

[T. Rakinson]

Once the rag-tag group of Wastelanders and Vault-Dwellers had returned to Sanctuary Hills after their stand-off outside the Vault, Rufus broke off from the group, not wanting to make conversation with anyone for the time being. His loss of what could have been a goldmine back in Vault 111 had left him in a gruff mood, but he didn't want to voice his contempt in front of the pre-war woman. Instead he grumpily wandered into the nearest house, looking for any potential scrap materials he could find to justify his so-far disappointing day.

Sentimental values aside, he wished Courtney could have understood the potential wealth of materials that could have been in the Vault. Out in the wasteland, if someone couldn't bring themselves to pick through the bones of a civilisation long since fallen, then almost everyone else had an immediate advantage over them. Being a scavenger had taught Rufus that an object was only as valuable as the number of caps you could get for it; forming an attachment to a thing or a place was just asking for disappointment in his own eyes. As much as he hated to think about that time in his life, he remembered how even the people of Quincy, the most prominent and wealthy settlement in the Southern Commonwealth, would rifle through any uncovered skeletons with no respect for the deceased, because some gold or silver-tinted jewellery on a skeletal arm could be worth enough caps to feed them and their family for days.

As all of this ran through the Ghoul's head, he made his way through the empty house, glad that it was a single-storey building. He'd never felt comfortable with the tall apartment buildings and corporate-owned skyscrapers that dotted urban areas like Boston and Lexington. During his trials in the Glowing Sea the scavenger had been forced to ascend the unstable remains of a skyscraper in order to evade a roaming Deathclaw. The shuddering of the metalwork had stayed to haunt his mind for ever more, making him shudder with discomfort and a strange feeling of adrenaline each time the memory resurfaced.

The house he was exploring almost seemed to be a bust- until he found an old cardboard box with some kind of mechanical appendage inside. The Ghoul looked at it in confusion, confused by the familiarity of the item. A look at the box's exterior helped him to make a connection; this was some kind of spare arm designed for a Mr. Handy model robot, possibly meant for Codsworth. It explained the now recognizable buzz-saw attachment was that he had been confused about before.

For a moment Rufus stopped to consider leaving it for the robot; was he dooming the machine somehow by taking away one of it's back-up parts? Then he shook himself out of the thought, disliking how much thought he was putting into this decision. I’m not getting sentimental for a goddamn robot the Ghoul thought as he shoved the mechanical arm into his sack of miscellaneous scrap. The scavenger began to pocket some lose circuitry with a stressful hurry, not wanting to compare his thought just then with Courtney’s attachment to her Vault. Once the contents of the box were almost empty a piece of paper became visible at the bottom. Rufus picked it out of the box, looking at it with curiosity. It seemed to be a colourfully designed schematics document for a Mr. Handy, provided by General Atomics, the old world corporation he recalled being responsible for making half the robots out in the Commonwealth today.

After a short period of deliberation he folded the paper and placed it in one of the pockets of his fatigues, and then left the house, heading over to join the others. He didn’t see Jackal anywhere, but didn’t worry for the feral, knowing he could look after himself.

 

[Simus]

The rest of the night in Sanctuary Hills was uneventful and when dawn came Courtney was sound asleep. The sun's morning rays filtered through the ample holes in her roof and right into her eyes, causing her to wake up. She tried turning into the couch to get back to sleep but it was too late. She was awake now and the couch wasn't comfortable enough for her to go back to sleep on her side. Covering her face with her hat would not be wise and she couldn't go back to sleep with the sun in her eyes so she simply resigned herself to waking up now, at what must be 6:30 in the morning given the time of year. This was at least an hour earlier than any time she liked to get up but there wasn't much for it now.

Slowly she got up and let her brain start working again. Her floor was still filthy and her house still looked like plops but the area around it was quiet. It would have been silent if not for a pair of massive footsteps thundering towards her front doorframe. She looked over in their direction and saw that they belonged to Jack's ugly giant friend. Courtney thought his name was Brutus but wasn't sure. Fortunately she was about to get the opportunity to ask. He ducked down and squeezed through her door, carrying one of those giant roaches behind him.

"GOOD MORNING HUMAN." He bellowed, causing Courtney to flinch with irritation. "BOSS SAY TO FIND YOU SOME BREAKFAST SO BRUTUS GET YOU A RADROACH. YOU LIKE RADROACH?!"

"You...really expect me to eat that?" Courtney asked in disbelief, still groggy and suddenly really needing to pee. "You can't be serious. Its legs are still twitching."

"I KNOW. RADROACH STILL HALF-ALIVE. NOT AS GOOD AS FULL ALIVE BUT GOOD ENOUGH WHEN BRUTUS HUNGRY. YOU WANT HEAD OR THORAX?"

"Umm...Is there a way you can give me something that's FULLY dead? And not out of the back yard? A couple of eggs and some bacon would be great..." She said with an awkward look. That roach was absolutely disgusting and she felt like she could throw up at any minute just looking at the thing.

"WHAT?! DEAD RADROACH?! YOU HUMANS ALWAYS RUIN GOOD MEAL! NO WORRIES THOUGH. BOSS SAY YOU PROBABLY SAY THAT. BRUTUS GO FIND BOSS AND PLACE TO COOK MEAT FOR YOU. BE BACK SOON HUMAN." He lumbered off towards an old red rocket truck stop, presumably where Jack was.

"Take your time..." Courtney muttered under her breath, in no hurry to eat a bug for breakfast. After he was gone she got up and headed down the hall to the left of the kitchen to investigate her bathroom situation. To her amazement her toilet and shower were still intact but they were also caked with two hundred years of dust and grime and neither had any water supply anymore. So Courtney would have to improvise. She dug around in the kitchen and eventually found an old white pot that was big enough for her to squat down in. It wasn't the most pleasant way to relieve herself but she'd done worse and after a few minutes behind the house she was feeling much better.

"Eating roach and plopsting in a chili pot." She muttered to herself after duping her waste into a nearby bush. "This day is getting interesting and it's not even eight yet."