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Well, I survived Irma. Along with my house. Was a pleasant surprise to come home after hiding away in the mountains for a few days to find my house unmolested by fallen trees. The power was even on. I think Mother Nature reads this fanfic…
Oh, and thanks for all the support you guys threw my way. Really warms the heart.
…
Don't give me that look, I was being sincere.
…What do you mean my tone is sarcastic? It isn't, I swear!
After several months in development, Chapter 7 is finally here. Hopefully, it will have been worth the weight.
Heavy.
Rude Guest- Nice name, and about stuff like that… Perhaps, it depends on what it is. This fic is intended to stay firmly in New Vegas and the DLC areas, so no travelling across the US till we finish our business in the Mojave. I was planning on throwing some cut content from FNV into this fic anyway, plus adding a couple original ideas of my own.
Guest- Ah yes, Rick is primarily a melee build, a rarity in both game and (fallout) fanfiction. Not dissing fellow fanfiction writers, but guns and energy weapons get quite stale after a while. The main reason I think it gets overlooked so much is that (human) melee enemies are basically cannon fodder if you're a high leveled ranged build. I assure you, melee builds are much more effective with a player behind the wheel. Also, not having to worry about ammo conservation is nice, especially on higher difficulties.
hyperdragon97- Glad to see you're enjoying it. Honestly, I'm surprised that there aren't more Fallout SI's. I've seen a couple on SpaceBattles and this site, but usually they're dead or put on hiatus. Truly a shame.
Whyoshock- I haven't a clue what you just said. I'll just assume you expressed a heartfelt desire that this fanfic would become longer. In that case, rejoice, for your wish is granted.
Unfortunately due to that wonderful thing known as violence, I've had to bump this up to an M rating because of a certain scene in this chapter. For all those squeamish about horrific injuries or those with weak stomachs, gore warning. This is the only time I'll ever warn about this since it's the first time.
This fic will get much more violent in the future.
8000+ words.
Chapter 7 – I'm redoubting my choices in life
Scar charges forward with his arm twisting back, intending to swing it into me and make those sharp claws tear at my armor. Of course, Eddy decides this is the perfect time to ruin the lakelurk's day and shoots it in the face.
I'm beginning to think Eddy's companion perk isn't 'Enhanced Sensors', rather 'Not in the face!' or something like that. Because he has a real talent for getting a bullseye on that particular part of the bod-
Er, focus.
The shot unbalances Scar, sending him stumbling and trying to prevent himself from falling over. Because I'm not a very nice person, I take the opening and introduce my axe to its right shoulder blade. The axe sinks in with a meaty squelch, causing Scar to let out a pained snarl in response.
The lakelurk sticks a leg backwards, preventing itself from falling over. He then raises his other arm and slams the appendage, clawed hand included into the area of my chest where my left lung would be located. The metal armor holds, stopping those razor sharp claws from digging into my tender flesh, though it doesn't stop me from feeling the force behind that blow.
Oof.
Wheezing slightly, I feel some wind in my lungs get knocked out through my mouth though it isn't enough to seriously debilitate me. Stonewall is working as intended. I jiggle my axe, trying to ease it out of the ocean blue flesh. It stubbornly doesn't budge.
Damn, it's stuck. For now I'll just have to improvise.
Letting go of the fire axe I raise my fists, taking a boxing stance. I've been putting points into Unarmed these past few levels as some perks you can get for the unarmed skill cross over into melee weapons. Channeling my inner Little Mac, I wind up and deliver a nice right hook into Scar's face, hitting his nose and upper lip.
Now in game, punching with just your fists would normally do very little damage, but since this is real life…
My fists are currently encased in a couple centimeters of solid steel. I just hit Scar in the face with metal propelled by force.
Ouchies.
Scar takes the blow rather well, unsurprising since he's a seven foot mutant…
Mutant…
Uh… play some jeopardy music, I'm thinking. I duck under a swipe from Scar.
…got it.
Mutant snapping turtle is what I think the lakelurks are supposed to be. Not sure how it's a snapping turtle with those human looking lips. Radiation is weird.
Taking my left fist, I swing once more, hitting part of the cheek and the left frill. Scar doesn't really react to it. He takes another swipe at me, and I barely manage to duck under the carelessly swung limb. Another one of Eddy's lasers scores a hit, singeing the right part of his neck frill. Scar snarls in response.
I think it pissed him off more than anything. Okay, a new plan of action is needed. Backing up a couple feet from the lakelurk, I let Eddy spam his laser at Scar unabated to cover my retreat. I then run at the mutant, slamming my spikey shoulder pauldron into his stomach.
If I was in my old body, I most certainly could not do this. But since I'm now in the body of a rather large full grown man, it's no biggie.
Scar falls over, with me following his descent. The lakelurk hits the ground on his back with myself still attached to his chest. I manage to get my bearings fairly quickly and pull my shoulder out of Scar's chest with a shlunk noise. After punching him in the face once more, I get a nice firm grip on the handle of my axe, proceeding to rip it out of Scar's shoulder blade. The fire axe comes out with a trail of blood following it, along with a complementary scream from Scar.
Poor baby, I hope it didn't miss me. The axe, not Scar.
Axe in hand, I roll myself off the lakelurk and scramble to my feet. Scar's having a harder time at achieving this due to Eddy spamming lasers at him. There are various burnt splotches in his once pristine blue skin now. Scar certainly doesn't sound happy.
To be honest, I wouldn't either. Still, this fight has gone on long enough. Time to end it. Ideally, I'd like to kill it by embedding my axe into its neck, but that stupid frill is going to get into the way.
Unfortunately it looks like a messier approach is needed. Don't look kiddies.
Walking carefully around the flailing body of Scar, I position myself in front of his head. Scar is still attempting to get up, but he's preoccupied shielding his face with his left hand from Eddy. My axe appears to have rendered his right arm completely useless. Must have severed a few important nerves on impact earlier.
Internally, I'm grimacing at what I'm about to do next. Taking my axe, which is currently held in my right hand, I two-hand it and raise it over my head. Then with all my might, as if I were chopping a log of wood, I swing it down at Scar's face.
I watch as it seemingly slowly descends upon the mutant turtle's face, when realistically it's less than a second. The axe makes contact with his cheek, then sinks in.
Thud.
There is no meaty squelch as the axe enters Scar's face, just the muted sound of the impact. I can see it, the pain making itself known in Scar's eye. The traces of fear, of how it will die.
It's surprisingly human like.
Scar let's out a bloodcurdling scream, something more animalistic than human (not that it was ever human in the first place, but eh, it's the thought that counts). His body is flailing rapidly, claws scratching at the stone, trying ever so desperately to get up, to run away, to escape the pain.
Alas, its wants will go unanswered, as the world is cruel.
You know, I'm getting rather philosophical all of a sudden. Not exactly the worst pastime that could be happening right now, but rather concerning nonetheless. Least I'm not enjoying this.
My foot slams into its undamaged shoulder blade, the left arm attached attempting to raise the panicking body attached to it from the ground. It twitches, losing its grip and destroying any chance of escape it might have had before. I use my position to remove the axe from Scar's face. It comes out with a sticky sounding squelch. Backing up and raising it over my head once more, I swing the unforgiving piece of bloodied metal down.
Thud.
This strike is not as 'clean' as the last one, the axe having sunk into the left eye and part of the forehead. Scar lets out another scream, this one not as loud at the last one, but still ear piercingly loud. I notice the shoulder wound from earlier.
Red blood runs out of the opened crevice in the flesh, like a river's stream. It covers the cave floor, the liquid somehow managing to reflect the glow of the nearby unnatural mushrooms.
Eddy hovers silently, having stopped firing after my first swing. Perhaps there is something intelligent in there after all, watching, appraising the situation.
There's that philosophical speech-talk again. Curious.
I remove the axe from the lakelurk's face once more. In the axe's sudden absence, eye juices and blood have mixed together, forming an orange and bloody soup. Blood pours out of the exposed forehead, a dark red gash frothing blood out at an alarming rate.
Scar's screams have lessened in volume to loud gurgles.
I numbly raise my axe for the last time, hoping that he will just die already.
The longer you live, the more you will suffer.
The cruel metal sings, descending like the grim reaper upon the dying.
Thud.
The blade having sunk deep into the entirety of the frontal lobe, reaching the brain, pauses the lakelurks screams. His body continues to jerk and fidget, likely the nervous system going haywire at the rapidly dying brain with a piece of metal shoved in the delicate biological structure.
Satisfied that the lakelurk likely won't pose a threat ever again to my health, I pull the axe out of the skull with some difficulty.
I press my hand against my forehead, slicking some of my hair back. That was, without a doubt, the most brutal kill I've done so far.
What disturbs me the most is that I felt more wrongness at killing the lakelurk than I did my fellow humans. Granted, I didn't exactly shove an axe in Powder Ganger's foreheads, it was mostly blunt trauma, but it doesn't change the fact I felt more uncomfortable at killing a mutant than a member of my own species.
Is this Rick's influence? Is it a subconscious hatred of the human race, of how they destroy everything around them, bicker and kill over the most dumbest of things, that allows me to feel more empathy for a completely different species than my own race?
I don't know. And that scares me, because I don't feel regret for killing humans. Sure, I know it's bad, but what happens if I forget? Stop caring? If I stop differentiating between who needs to die and who doesn't?
What's to stop me from turning into a monster? The very person who I'm afraid of the Courier being, someone who only looks out for themselves and is willing to drag the entire Mojave down with them to get what they want?
You know, I'm reminded of a saying…
He who fights monsters should see to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze for long into an abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.
I audibly sigh.
For now, there is very little I can do, except stick to a strict moral code and never break the rules. I'll need to review every action I take, to make sure I'm in no way shape or form breaking them.
It's the only way I have of keeping myself in check.
Haahh… I'm such a downer. At least I'm realizing potential pitfalls. And I got all that shit for reading too many cliché hero-becomes-the-villain stories in the past. Thanks to that, I've seen so many examples of those who've fallen from grace and how it happened.
Now, let's hope that knowledge will help me avoid suffering a similar fate…
Yes, let's hope…
Hmm? Oh, I leveled up. Six new perks available.
Fight the Power. Grants a damage bonus against NCR, BOS, and Legion. Anti-Government version of Sneering Imperialist. Seeing as I'm not planning to be on any of those sides, I might get it. Maybe.
Alertness. Grants a bonus to perception and agility when outside. Unnecessary because of my fighting style and Eddy. More important perks to get.
Fast Metabolism. Gives a health bonus whenever I use stimpacks. Will probably get at some point.
Heavyweight. Any weapon heavier than ten pounds has its weight cut in half. This I'll likely get later when I hit my level thirty and have access to 'insurance' weapons like fatman launchers and likewise.
Hobbler. Accuracy of hitting legs in VATS is increased. Once again, a useless perk for me.
Life Giver. Gives me thirty extra hit points. Doesn't seem like much, but more health is always useful.
I pick Life Giver.
Life Giver- Vault Boy Jesus has blessed you with thirty extra hit points. Use them wisely.
Thanks budget Jesus.
As much as I'd like to sit down and think about this, there's a dungeon that needs clearing and I… I can think about this later. Perhaps on the road. Being distracted in a dangerous area is asking for trouble.
Like a broken record, I sigh once more. Walking away from Scar's dying body I walk to the area he was guarding, remembering its importance.
Let's see, it's likely this poor dead chap lying by a pair of rusty dumpsters. Poor bugger. Don't see that many maggots crawling in his skin, so it couldn't have been that long ago he got killed. Or is it kilt? No, that's something Scottish people wear.
This must be one of those Illuminati people I mentioned earlier. Let's see… he should have a keycard… Hang on, just desecrating his body and rummaging around in his belongings… no sense in letting it rot there with him…
After several seconds of searching, I pull out a flat, grey rectangular object that looks like a keycard from the man's vest. Feeling it, there appear to be several bumps reminiscent of braille embedded on the card, rather different from the keycards that come from the Earth I originally lived on…
It appears I've found it. This will let me into the bunker itself.
Entering the bunker itself was uneventful, thankfully. Just slide that keycard in the slot next to the door and presto. Inside, it's nice and homey, but I prefer my little house bunker more. Less chance of having some critter wander in via teleporter.
Found the terminal I remembered from the game though. Belonged to some women named Roth. Dead guy outside was apparently called 'Bix', and they never found him because he was the last to leave through the teleporter and never showed up at their destination.
Ugh, how cliché.
The fuck is this, some horror movie? Why couldn't you idiots wait for him? If there's one thing you should never do in abandoned places like this, it's to split up. Looking through these entries, it doesn't even look like they were being chased by anything or anyone, so I've no fucking clue what the hurry to leave is all about.
From what it sounds, they were hopping through teleporters when Bix stayed behind for some reason. Course, they never saw him again because he ended up dead in a cave somewhere, likely after getting pwned by Scar.
Why couldn't Bix take someone with him while he pissing around in the caves? I can't fathom what convinced him to think 'Hey, I should go explore this cave I know nothing about all by my fragile self with no support whatsoever.' It might be a bit hypocritical of me, given I started exploring real life FNV by myself, but I got Eddy as soon as realistically possible, and you…
You had a whole group of people to back you up, and you just chose to go off by yourself. Dumbass. It's people like you who die first in horror movies. And you did die, so thanks for proving my point. Good to see natural selection is still working as intended. The gene pool has already been hit hard enough with the whole nuke thing. Still working on breeding out all that idiotic prewar craziness.
Roth's diaries mention some event called the 'Big Chill', which had something to do with robots. I have a sinking feeling that all the robots the entry mentions were suffering Skynet Syndrome.
Anyone who has heard of Terminator, I'm pretty sure you're thinking 'oh shit' right now.
Or it could just be that all the prewar robots shut down for some reason, but then again, I've only ever completed less than half of this mod before being thrown into the Fallout-verse, so who knows, it might come up into the future in another terminal entry.
No sense in worrying about it now.
I spent the next few minutes raiding the shit out of the place. Got a fair amount of chems and ammo, alongside junk treasure such as bottles and scrap objects. When my Repair, Explosives, and Survival skills get close to 75, I can start really making use of all this junk I'm picking up. Having a large amount of resources to make custom bombs and homemade chems is basically my end goal for all this stuff being collected.
I also might have a hoarding problem. Eh, that's a good thing to have in the fallout verse.
Going past a room filled with control panels and generators, we find ourselves at a locked door. Technically, there's two locked doors, but they both lead to the same room so there's no point in needing to make a big deal out of which one we open. Both doors are lock picked open easily, with just one bobby pin fatality between the two.
Inside the room, goodies include more ammo, a chem lab, and the teleporters I described earlier. They look similar to the models in the game, though a bit sharper and realistic looking which is unexpected because real life. Looking at the nearest working terminal, this time it looks like a different Illuminati member was documenting what he found in each redoubt.
Though he only documented the first four out of eight. Either he didn't have enough time, or everyone died before they could finish exploring and cataloguing each one.
Pleasant thoughts.
Which leads to our present conundrum. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be a guidebook on how to use the teleporter terminals.
How do these things work?
Guess we'll have to figure out by trial and error.
This is absolutely bound to end horribly.
Five minutes later, and I still haven't made much progress. Blue button makes a weird noise, green does nothing, yellow make some lights on the dashboard flicker, orange-
Hey, I wonder if it's that big ominous looking red button.
No, that would be too obvious.
Better press it just in case.
Click
…
Nothing happened.
Well, that was disappoi-
FZZZT
FZZZT
-nting.
The first thing I noticed after teleporting was the fact my face was awfully close to the ground, and currently getting closer.
'Shi-'
Clang
Luckily, my metal helmet hasn't magically disappeared from its spot on my head.
Unluckily, it means instead of just my forehead banging against the ground, it banged against the helmet which bounced against the ground.
Three words describing my current predicament? Ow, my head.
I spent the next few minutes cradling my face with my helmet still on curled up on the ground swearing in hushed tones. I think I have a concussion.
Also, there's blood in my mouth. Bit my tongue, hurts.
'Dish sushin sucks.'
Eventually, the wonderful sensation of a jackhammer drilling in my skull faded away enough so I could get up and have a proper look around.
Wait, let me spit out this blood first. Gotta pull the helmet off and…
'Pluh!'
Better.
Appears to be a control room of sorts. The teleporter is behind me, placed up against the wall with a bunch of screens and complicated looking control panels lining the walls surrounding us.
Eddy's probably flipping his shit right now, as I don't see him anywhere nearby. Likely flying in circles beeping erratically. While I wouldn't want him to worry, I really don't want to kiss the dirt more than I have to today. I'm sure he can wait just a little longer. On that note…
Curses. I'd hoped to avoid the cliché of something happening after pronouncing that nothing happened, but it seems the great fanfiction gods just can't let that one go.
But moving on, we should be currently in Redoubt 007. The entry I read on that terminal basically said this was a room filled with junk, and to be honest, it pretty much is. Walking past the burnt out shell of what once was a Mr. Handy, we find ourselves inside a fairly large room absolutely stacked to the ceiling with boxes and crates, plus a few more destroyed robots for icing on the cake.
I would say, 'God, what a dump', but I think I've used that line already.
Salvaging the place, I'd say I made a pretty good haul. Mostly junk items, a couple boxes of ammo I found lying around on the crates, even some stuff for crafting bullets up in the crates near the roof. I think the only bullet-making components I want would be pistol powder and lead, as I remember them being included in several recipes for custom explosives.
Now I'm standing in front of the teleporter, ready for my return trip. Can't say I'm looking forward to this.
Click
Wait for it…
FZZZT
FZZZT
This time, I was prepared for the disorientation and weakness of my legs that I had experienced the first time I used the teleporter.
I was able to stick an arm out to break my fall, making my eventual collision with the metal-plated ground much more pleasant than the first time round.
Hey, at least I didn't land on my head again.
Eddy, who had been freaking out just as I said he would, tackled me, or at least tried to.
Clang
It would've been heartwarming hadn't I been wearing armor.
The second redoubt visited was Redoubt 016b. Terminal entry mentioned something about Vault-Tec. Knowing Vault-Tec, we'll likely find some horrible crime against nature they've committed.
I'm getting more and more used to teleporting. Only landed on my knees this time. Slightly awkward due to the kneecap spikes on my armor. Beats landing on my face.
Unfortunately for Eddy, it seems these things have a universal hate for all that use them. Eddy lost control of his flight boosters and fell to the ground rather ungracefully.
He dropped like a brick thrown out of a window.
I am growing a hatred for these things, and I'm sure Eddy just has. After several minutes of convincing Eddy to not shoot the teleporter, we went our merry way doing what we do best.
Taking everything of value that isn't nailed down.
The first area was a nice little underground bunker. Nothing special about it, had a working fridge, a few lockers filled with miscellaneous crap. Like I said, nothing remarkable.
Then we tripped over the Vault-Tec offices. Four letter code terminal blocking access to the offices themselves. Password was 'duck' of all things.
Why duck? I have no fucking clue. Perhaps Vault-Tec was secretly run by ducks seeking to push their twisted agenda upon the world. If only I had tinfoil right now…
Moving on, the room behind the terminal-locked door is dark with the only source of lighting coming from red emergency lights that don't do that great of a job lighting the floor up. Squinting, my vision goes green as the night vision mode switches on.
That's better. Just a few feet from the left I find a couple skeletons. There's no flesh or anything rotting on the remains, so these are probably the office's employees. I have no idea how far down in the ground this office is, so it could have been the radiation that killed them or, because Vault-Tec, the office's security systems that were the culprit.
My memory's telling me that robots did it. Better be careful, my axe could either be really effective or it could do jack shit. I do have a plan B if it doesn't work however…
Plasma Grenades. I still have like seven left over from… wherever I got them.
Uh…
Primm Sewers? Probably there. Yeah, that sounds right.
Going back to the entrance and turning right, we find a small office. As I'm rummaging through the desk drawers, Eddy sounds his battle theme, startling me.
I watch him fly up a nearby stairwell like there's no tomorrow.
…He just pulled a Leroy Jenkins on me. That bastard. I get my hands out of the desk and take off after him.
'Eddy, wait a minute-'
'INTRUDER ALERT.'
He just had to go and pick a fight with the security system, didn't he? Gotta love that follower ai- oh wait real life, actually that's just him being dumb.
When I do get upstairs, there's a sentry bot firing its laser at Eddy. The eyebot's returning fire, his own laser making contact with the armor plates of the larger robot, not that it seems to be doing much.
'DO NOT INTERFERE IN SECURITY OPERATIONS.'
'Oh, shut up.'
My fire axe swings gracefully through the air and lodges itself right in the 'head' of the robot. Sparks fly and the robot slumps as if deactivating.
Yay, I don't have to resort to plan B.
'THIS UNITTT ISSS UNNAABBLE TO NEUTRALIIIIIIZE THREATT. NOTIFYYING SSEEECCCURRITTYyyy.'
Uh-oh.
And everything goes to hell. An alarm blares, red spinning lights turn on, a nearby wall panel slides down to reveal two turrets, the typical signs of failing stealth in a video game. Too bad there's no giant red exclamation mark.
My fist finds itself giving Eddy a 'love tap' on his chassis.
'Idiot.' Clank. He sinks slightly in the air under the force behind my fist.
Eddy beeps mournfully.
[BOOTING UP…]
[UNIT# 320891 COMBAT READY. DIRECTIVE?]
[RECEIVING DIRECTIVE…]
[RECEIVED.]
[PRIMARY DIRECTIVE: NEUTRALIZE COMMUNIST SECURITY THREAT.]
[COMPLIANCE.]
Rolling out of its hidden wall panel, the sentry bot designated as SB-9145 rolled down its assigned security lane, scanning for threats. It found none, and neither had any other of its metallic comrades. The Mr. Gutsys were in a frenzy, searching furiously for the aforementioned communists while spouting American propaganda at a rapid fire rate. Several Protectrons were roaming as well, their metal feet clanking loudly on the office floor.
It continued patrolling for several minutes, and still found no sign of intrusion. Until…
[IRREGULARITY DETECTED.]
In this particular floor of Vault-Tec offices, there were six individual turrets designed to serve as first responders to a security threat. The units came in pairs of two, and were hidden away behind false walls designed to slide down in response to an unlawful intrusion.
The current set of turrets that SB-9145 was observing were missing the top portions of their mounted bodies. From the looks of it, someone or something had swung some kind of implement at the 'heads' of the turrets, causing them to snap off.
Likely, the one responsible was nearby. Silently, SB-9145 digitally uploaded its current view to a shared database, and in the process alerted every other mobile robot on the floor to the sentry bot's location.
[RECOMMENDED COURSE OF ACTION: CONTINUE SCANNING FOR HOSTILES. AWAIT BACKUP.]
And wait for backup it did. SB-9124 continued scanning the area dutifully, switching to thermal vision at the chance of finding something, but had no such luck. It did so silently, which was unusual for its model.
Normal versions of sentry bots would announce loudly for the target to show themselves in order to comply with a robotics law established a few years before tensions began to really rise between America and China, concerning ethical reasons. Mainly in preventing civilians from getting gunned down by being unexpectedly ambushed by a robot before they had time to surrender.
Vault-Tec saw the law as a hindrance and for their own robots, had their own technicians remove the 'warning' clause in the programming, technically making the 'silent' robots illegal as it broke the law by not giving a warning.
After a minute or two of waiting, noise filled the hallway. Several Mr. Gutsys hover in, patrolling the area while spouting their patriotic drivel. A fellow sentry bot turned a corner, rolling across the marble floor in silence. A couple Protectrons had shown up too, their feet clanking noisily as they stomped up and down the hallway.
One of the Protectrons walks next to an innocent-looking weathered door, the model giving off the regular warnings in its bland robotic tone, this one relatively untampered with by Vault-Tec.
It was completely unprepared as the door swung open with enough force to literally bowl it over, causing it to hit the ground noisily.
A humanoid figure stands in the doorway. Every security bot present turns to look at the intruder.
The intruder is not only tall, but also is recognized as male due to the body physique. The man wears a motorcycle helmet without a visor, his body clad in a barbaric form of body armor comprised of iron with spikes adorning the shoulders. He holds a standard issue fire axe with expertise. Behind him, a small spherical robot slightly larger than a basketball hovers silently. SB-9145 matches its appearance with eyebots used for propaganda, however this one appears to be outfitted with a mounted laser.
This is no civilian.
Without fanfare, SB-9145 starts to charge up its gatling laser, the arm mounted weapon beginning to emit a low hum. Using its targeting parameters, the arm locks on to the intruder's profile.
The man's eyes change color from a shining white to an unnatural green that glows ominously in the poorly lit room. The machines pay no attention to this change, their systems deeming it unimportant.
Lifting his axe and assuming an unrefined combat stance, the man lunges. SB-9145's gatling laser fires, managing to only get a glancing shot off the intruder's left leg to no effect. His armor soaks up the damage. His first target of choice is a nearby Mr. Gutsy. The fire axe rises, then swings down with a large amount of force, heavily denting the circular body of the robot. He follows up with a vertical swing, the blow wrenching metal apart and damaging the Gutsy to the point of its thrusters failing, sending it plunging to the ground.
It impacts the ground in a tangled heap.
Undeterred, (not that it had the capability to feel deterred in the first place) SB-9145 readjusts its arm, lining up another shot. Its fellow robots are beginning to react, the Gutsys spinning their arm motors to the mounted plasma guns, a similar hum from its identical twin across the room, the sound of the Protectron's hand lasers switching on.
The intruder takes a step towards a Protectron and-
FZAAPP
-is beaten to the punch by one forgotten eyebot. The laser hits a bullseye with deadly precision, penetrating the 'head' of the Protectron as it strikes the glass 'eye', the laser exiting through to the other side of the glass dome. The Protectron's head explodes with a flash of white light and a bang. The husk of the once formerly operable robot tips over and hits the ground, suffering the same fate as its Mr. Gutsy counterpart.
The remaining Protectrons and Gutsys open fire, unleashing a volley of lasers and plasma at both enemies. Unable to dodge, the man takes the brunt of the volley and is temporarily overwhelmed, forced to take a step back to steady himself.
However he is only overwhelmed for a couple seconds, recovering with haste.
'RRRRRRRAGHH!'
A couple steps forward, an axe lifted and swung, causing yet another Mr. Gutsy to bite the dust. Sparks erupt out of the robot's body as it too explodes in dazzling display of light. Placing his foot on his victim, the intruder rips the axe out of the robot, already charging at his next target, the other sentry bot.
SB-9145 switches on its missile launcher. The next few moments are filled with chaos.
The remaining Protectrons were easily dispatched by the Eyebot, with the man destroying the other sentry bot and remaining Mr. Gutsys. SB-9145 is the only one left. The fact means little to it, as it is incapable of feeling fear.
[LOCKING ON...]
A crosshair appears over the male's torso.
[FIRING...]
The missile flies true and explodes in the hallway, causing debris to rain down from above. The sentry bot continues firing, sending at least five more missiles into the smoke cloud now obscuring the hallway.
It pauses after the last explosion.
Silence. Debris continues to rain down from the floor above, making it relatively quiet save for sounds of things crashing into the ground. The smoke still obscures the hallway.
[SCANNING… NO LIFE SIGNS DETEC-]
Jumping from out of the smoke, the man swings his axe horizontally upward at SB-9145, sending it flying off the ground a couple feet. The sentry bot hits the ground on its wheels, though it has the robotic equivalent of confusion at the casual display of impossible force.
[ERROR.]
The intruder unclips something from his belt and throws a brown cylinder at SB-9145. The cylinder bounces across the floor, with several parts on each end sliding to expose green light flooding out of the object.
SB-9145 readjusts its position to scan the mysterious object. It is sad, seeing the limitations of a 'dumb' artificial intelligence. Had it been smarter, it would have taken off and possibly retained the ability to function just a bit longer then its fast-approaching expiration date.
[SCANNING… TRACES OF PLASMA DETECTED. OBJECT IDENTIFIED: PLASMA GRENADE.]
[ESTIMATED TIME UNTIL DETONATION. 1.098 SECONDS.]
'Go to hell!'
If one were to retrieve the memory chip containing the last moments of an operable SB-9145, they would see nothing but green.
Phew. That was a close one. Almost got hit by that missile salvo at the end, but hitting the floor actually worked for once. Worst I suffered was my ears ringing.
But man, that robot sure fucked that hallway up. Having realistic environmental damage isn't always the best of things. Maneuvering my way through all the robotic corpses, I scout out the rest of the building floor, destroying a set of turrets I come across with relative ease.
The door they were guarding leads to an office with a holotape on the desk. Playing it, my assumptions are proved correct as it appears Vault-Tec did set the robots loose on the employees. What a dickbag move for a company.
Nothing else of value aside from pointless junk to salvage are left in this redoubt, so it's time to move on. Also, I think the ceilings going to come down in a few minutes. Those missiles really did a number on the building.
Alright, so apparently I got the Ant Cave mixed up with the Radscorpion cave. Redoubt 0291a was not home to giant mutated ants as I previously thought, but instead giant mutated scorpions.
I'm trying to decide which is worse. Radscorpions are tougher to kill but don't look as nasty as mutated ants, while said giant ants look fucking hideous but can be easily killed by something as weak as a switchblade.
Oh, and the redoubt leads out to Hidden Valley, so if I ever wanted to sneak in for shits and giggles I have my entryway.
Redoubt 03S4. Absolutely full of lakelurks, though most of them weren't as nasty as Scar had been. The teleporter location appeared to have taken us under the sea as there was water leaking from above and half of the redoubt itself was flooded.
I knew it was the sea and not just a bunch of leaky water pipes because I got a mouthful of saltwater when a Lakelurk king threw me across a hallway and into the flooded section of the redoubt.
Guess Stonewall only prevents me from being knocked over.
The *best* part was that this wasn't even the worst redoubt I visited during my stay at Reinmann Bunker.
Redoubt 04RR8 was heavily irradiated, and I got radiation poisoning seconds after I stepped off the teleporter. Hastily, I teleported back the main hub and spent the next few minutes hunched over a desk in the lobby throwing up and waiting for the Radaway to finish purging radiation from my system.
I placed a miniature fan on top of the teleporter pad as a reminder to not ever go there again.
You know, I'm starting to see why only a few people do prospecting in the fallout-verse now.
Redoubt 055Va. This one led to a perfectly preserved bunker, completely abandoned save for one person, a women named Rose. First thing she asked me was if I was worked for Mr. House.
I told her no, I didn't.
She didn't believe me. What a prat.
To enact my petty revenge upon her, I stole all her nuka cola quantum.
Every. Last. One.
Suck it bitch. You deserve no more mention and will forever be a forgotten plot hole.
Am I being petty?
Absolutely.
Next redoubt!
Redoubt 06AF14
FZZAP
'SSKKKKKKKKKKRRRRRRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE-'
'Oh just die already, you disgusting abomination!'
FZZAP FZZAP
I've always hated fighting queen ants in Fallout New Vegas. Disgusting things. The sounds they make, the way they move, what they look like…
Kill it with fire!
FZZAP FZZAP FZZAP
There's no way in the seven hells I'm going near that thing with my fire axe, so I've commandeered a laser rifle I found earlier for my own use.
FZZAP FZZAP FZZAP FZZAP
Too bad it doesn't do shit in terms of damage. Ah, what I'd give for a flamer or an incinerator right now…
FZZZZZZZZ-
Mm?
Fnv Red Exclamation Marks Copy
-AAAAAPPPPPP
Ooh, a crit!
The shot scores a bullseye on the Ant Queen's head, turning it into ash. A giant pile of ash.
Whatever you do Rick, please do not sneeze.
Eddy gives a symphony of happy beeps at the defeat of the thing we've been trying to kill for what seems to have been forever. It couldn't move its fat bulk through the narrow tunnels of the ant cave the teleporter led out to, so we've been figuratively sitting on our asses and taking potshots at it for the last few ten minutes or so. I ran out of explosives trying to kill all the soldier ants when we first entered. Those things weren't the regular fire ants, instead some sadistic buffed AWOP version. I found out rather quickly when one shrugged off an axe to the head like it was nothing.
Hmm…
I take the laser rifle and rest it on my shoulder. I can feel the leftover critical shot warmth emanating from it through my armor. Laser weapons apparently overheat when they perform a critical.
Perhaps I was too hasty in proclaiming I'd only use melee weapons and explosives. It would be downright stupid to not have a weapon focused on precision at hand. A laser rifle is weak, but a decent weapon fully upgraded.
…It's decided then. I'll carry this here laser rifle as my third weapon. Shouldn't be too bad in settling it in, they only need like twenty five in energy weapons to use properly after all.
There's the level up theme, looks like killing that thing was enough to level me up.
Let's see… set aside a couple points for the new weapon, dump all the rest into this other crap and presto.
Right, now for the perk.
How about Fast Metabolism? Better healing is always good, especially since the world appears to be on hardcore mode.
Fast Metabolism- Fat people envy you.
Now that's just downright rude. Whoever writes these should feel ashamed of themselves.
Trudging my way through the ant caves, I find an entrance leading outside. There's a building off in the far distance. Is that… the Nellis Air Force Base?
I do believe it is. Well, this explains how the ants got into Nellis in the first place.
We can use this to sneak in if we wanted too.
Another time, maybe. I don't feel like interacting with the xenophobic former residents of Vault 34 today. I don't actually remember how many of them actually grew up in the Vault though. Pearl probably did, along with that other old guy whose name eludes me.
It had an 'al' in it. I think.
Redoubt 07GV18c. I didn't stay here long, the reason being that I ran into the devil of the wasteland.
A deathclaw. Baby one, to be specific. I bet you're wondering why I didn't try to kill it.
Well…
Electromagnetic vision revealed that Mama was nearby, along with two other adults. I'm not tangling with deathclaws till I'm like level thirty and have a sizeable amount of explosives at my disposal. Sorry for all those who wanted to see me get owned by a deathclaw. It's not happening.
I hate all of you (jk).
Annnd that's it. That's about as far as we can explore Reinmann Bunker for now, at least till I get better weapons and level up twenty-ish more times. It's going to be an absolute bitch cleaning out all the deathclaws on that last redoubt, I just know it.
Now… time to go home and get some well-deserved R&R. Gosh, I'm tired. Swinging an axe around all willy-nilly sure takes a lot out of you. Since my brain is no longer in fight or flight mode, I'm aware of just how beat I feel. I'll definitely feel sore in the morning.
I take the next few moments to leisurely walk through the cramped halls of the teleporter station, making my way back to the cave. I decide to lock up the entrance I first used for the heck of it. Keycard in, keycard out.
Finally making it outside after having spent a few hours in a crumbling pre-war ruin is a breath of fresh air. The sun's currently in the process of disappearing below the horizon, and the blistering heat has been reduced to a much more bearable state. It won't stay forever like this though. Despite the environment being altered by the nuclear hellfire two hundred something years ago, the Mojave Desert still gets rather nippy at night. Nothing that'll give you frostbite, ain't that vicious, but if you're big on comfort you'll want to stay indoors.
I decide to retire for the coming night and walk home, Eddy in tow.
Tomorrow will be a long day of walking.
Nipton. Bigger than it was in the game, same as the rest of the places that can be classified as towns. Never have I seen a town that fits the lawless Wild West theme so well. Sure, there aren't people gunning each other down in the streets, but it's got the feeling of a powder keg ready to blow.
Good thing I'm not going to be here when it does. I'd rather not get put on the Legion's shit list so early on for defending myself from their little cult members. Vulpes Inculty can eat my axe for all I care.
Still, you gotta feel bad for the man, especially since he was sexually harassed by that fat fuck this town calls a mayor. Don't believe me? Read the mayor's terminal logs, you can just tell that guy really, really, wanted Vulpes's dic-
Alright that's enough. Nipton, we were talking about Nipton. While the town does look remarkably better without all the burning things and crucified people, it still looks like an absolute cesspool. Seedy-looking people are out sitting in the streets behind tables, selling all kinds of things such as drugs and other items of questionable value. Walking past the house that you find Boxcars in-game and looking down the street toward the town hall, I see two scantily clad women attempting to convince travelers to well… do what hookers do.
I mean, if they really want to go for a roll in the hay, good for them, but judging by how dirty the hookers look it's probably not worth risking catching some form of disease with the amount of times they've had sex with other men. Just saying. Not that I ever would use the services of a hooker anyway, I'm a reputable fello- aw fuck I need to bang that Gomorrah woman for the pimp boy quest. Fuck meeeee.
My desire to kill Ricky for his pip-boy grows stronger each passing day. Maybe I can just take it off his body when the dreadlock-Indians shoot him- no wait I need a pip boy in the first place to travel with the caravan people. Maybe I could 'disappear' him when none of them are looking, I get the feeling no one will miss him anyway.
If this was some kind of anime, the scene would cut to Ricky sneezing every time I premeditate his murder. This is a family friendly show definitely.
There's also Powder Gangers walking the street. Looks like these ones were *lucky* enough to escape the great purge. The Legion will kill them eventually, no need to dirty my hands with their blood. The Courier will probably shoot Oliver Swandick for me, glasses wearing prick.
Hmm. Should I even bother trying to save the town of Nipton from the Legion? I watch as some poor sap gets beat up by a bunch of what looks like mercenaries. Would go save him if the guy didn't just attempt to swipe something from one of the nearby vendors. Idiot, at least try to be subtle when committing theft.
No. Not worth my blood and time. Cold of me, but I'm not the hero of this story anyway. Just a background character that knows too much. This place looks like it needs to be burned down anyway, it's an absolute shithole.
Ah, I'll have to wait until everyone's dead till I can ransack the town hall for goodies. Its fine, I'll probably be back round this part of the Mojave eventually. Probably be a completely changed man when I do.
There's no real point in staying here for the day. I'll want to head for the hills to avoid going through that ambush overpass. But first…
Like a true scavenger, I must see if there's anything worthwhile in Nipton's dumpsters before I go. You know what they say, 'One man's trash is another's treasure.' Having a hoarding problem is a double edged sword. The places I'll go for items I'll probably never use.
So I did just that. While rummaging through Nipton's dumpsters I got over-encumbered for the first time. It happened when I reached into a dumpster and grabbed an empty sunset sarsaparilla bottle.
I very ungracefully fell into the dumpster and couldn't move until I let go of the stupid thing.
Yay, more video game mechanics imposed upon me. How wonderful.
Meanwhile, Eddy was making a strange electronic noise that sounded suspiciously like a laugh track. When I finally managed to crawl out of the damn thing, I gave him my best glare.
He played the laugh track again in response. Little bastard.
My eyes narrow. I suppose it's about time I start using him as a pack mule.
Materializing a weapon I hadn't been able to sell yet, a 10 mm submachine gun, I hold it in front of Eddy expectantly.
'Hold this.'
I wasn't sure how Eddy held items in the original game, but I think I have a good idea.
Eddy's grill face swung open like a cupboard door, exposing a little area for storage. Knew it.
Taking the weapon, I daintily place it inside Eddy, then frown and reach through the opening of my helmet to scratch my forehead.
That… doesn't look right. I take it back out and then put it back in again.
It fits… but something still seems a little off.
Hrm…
Selecting another item from my 4d I materialize an unsold cowboy repeater. I pick it up from the ground and hold it next to Eddy's chassis.
It's much longer than he is wide. Then, very slowly, I stick the gun into Eddy's storage area.
Somehow, it fits in there.
Golly, Eddy has another dimension inside of him. I attempt to scratch my head bewilderedly, ignoring the fact that there's an inch of metal in the way.
This is some next-level Mary Poppins shit right here.
'Die damn you!'
It hasn't even been thirty minutes since I left Nipton and already I've been accosted by a group of hooligans. This is so similar to the game this world is based off it's not even funny.
My axe makes contact with the raider's neck, causing blood to spurt out from the horrific gash left in the metal's sudden absence.
Ninety-nine.
Really, you'd think they'd know better not to attack the heavily armored dude with a flying robot buddy by now. The rest of the raider group is dealt with easily, bringing my ever growing kill count to one hundred and three.
We've gone past the hundred mark, I'm so excited.
Not.
Is it a good thing I'm keeping count? It seems kind of morally dubious to be counting the amount of human lives I've taken. Should I stop?
But that means I stop caring about how many people I kill. Damn you errant psychological condition go away, no one likes you!
Ugh… let's just continue for now. It's not like I'm like- OH LOOKIE HERE AT ALL THESE PEOPLE I'VE KILLED- so it should be relatively fine.
Mm. I leveled up again. I killed a lot of things on the way to Nipton. You all know the drill at this point, just distribute my points and…
Look at the new perks.
Adamantium Skeleton. Makes it harder for me to be crippled, definitely want this one.
Man Machine. Allows me to install more cybernetic implants in the torso, will want that later.
Purifier. Extra damage to abominations, I'll be getting that later when I get everything essential.
Fnv Red Exclamation Marks Mark
And lastly, Tin Head. The head version of the Project Nevada cybernetic implant perks.
I'm planning to do all the Project Nevada perks at once, which means I'll want Adamantium Skeleton for this level up.
Boop.
Adamantium Skeleton- Brace yourself.
…
That doesn't sound good.
crick
As time resumes, my body begins to feel funny, almost like I'm having…
crick…
…having growing pains.
c-crick…
My skeleton.
C-Crick
It's going to replace my skeleton.
CRACK
Then, every single bone in my body proceeded to break simultaneously at once.
'GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!'
Look at that, the Redoubt thingy took up more words than expected. Guess the Novac chapter won't have to share itself after all. It only took several months Neurax, you should be proud of yourself (I'm such a lazy sod).
I'd appreciate feedback on the several fighting scenes in this chapter (particularly the robot one, writing that became a soulless endeavor near the end but I had already committed by then so I couldn't just scrap it), as fighting scenes aren't really my area of expertise and I'd like to improve on that aspect.
Also because I am not perfect, (shocking, I know) I forgot to mention a level-up last chapter. All that I chose for my perk was an IT that maxed my intelligence. I wasn't planning anything special for maxing a S.P.E.C.I.A.L stat (dat pun, so horrible), so yeah…
Derp.
Profile
Name: Rick
Level: 14
Title: Shield of Hope
Karma: Good
Perks
Adamantium Skeleton
Animal Control (Rank 2)
Bionic Eyes
Bug Stomper (Rank 2)
Built to Destroy
Comprehension
Day Tripper
Fast Metabolism
Finesse
Hot Blooded
Intensive Training (Rank 4)
Life Giver
Lord Death (Rank 1)
Melee Hacker (Rank 1)
Stonewall
Super Slam
Toughness (Rank 2)
S.P.E.C.I.A.L
Strength – 8
Perception – 7
Endurance – 8
Charisma – 1
Intelligence – 10
Agility – 5
Luck – 5
Skills
Barter - 7
Energy Weapons - 25
Explosives - 35
Guns - 23
Lockpick - 75
Medicine - 35
Melee Weapons - 62
Repair - 60
Science - 35
Sneak - 55
Speech - 35
Survival - 40
Unarmed - 45
Faction Reputations
Fco Red Exclamation Mark
Goodsprings: Liked
Primm: Accepted
Powder Gangers: Vilified
Brotherhood of Steel (NVC): Fugitive
NCR (Counts for every NCR allied area): Neutral
Fallout New Vegas Mod Red Exclamation Point
Edited 2/6/2018.