During Trouble on the Homefront, what would have happened if the Lone Wanderer and Amata had gotten a little closer than the game suggests? This story explores that possibility, and what happens when he becomes one of the Security Guards under Wally Mack, who hates him because of his dad.
This is my first uploaded story. Give me some feedback as I write. Each chapter will probably be about 15,000 words or more, and the book will end when I think it should. There is no definite end to this book, as it tells a life story of an extroadinarily gifted young leader in the Brotherhood of Steel who just happens to be the son of the Hero of the Wastes. No points for guessing who that is. I hope you enjoy it and I wish to hear from you who think that there is something good or bad about the story. It took Thomas Edison hundreds of tries to get the lightbulb right. I just hope that it doesn't take that long for me to get writing down. Fair warning, don't expect regular posts. Between my schedule and other things I like doing (such as actually playing Fallout 3), I may or may not find room for this book.
Vault 101: March 28, 2279
Doctor's Office
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
"Come on, Amata, one more push."
"AAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!"
"Waaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"
"Amata, it's a boy! You have a son!"
"Oh, he's so beautiful! What should I call him?"
"Give him a name that means something, not some common one."
She gave it some thought. "I'll call him Einar, the Battle Leader."
"Interesting, I was never a battle leader."
"And I've only been married to you for eight months."
"Then whose kid is this if he's not mine?"
Vault 101: Sixteen years later
"Well, that's it, the infamous GOAT. You can have the rest of the day off to celebrate, or to pray, as the situation warrants. Don't forget to hand in you test before you leave. You don't want to know what happens to people who fail the GOAT."
"Here you are, Mr. Brotch."
"Thanks, let me just score that for you." He put it into his scoring machine. When it came out, he was smiling. "Well, congratulations! You're the newest Security Guard of Vault 101."
I was stunned. "W-what?! A Security Guard?! What kind of joke is this! Me and the Overseer have the worst possible relationship that anyone could have. There's no way I could possibly serve him like that!"
"Well, I'm sorry, but that's what it has to be. Report to the security center tomorrow at 6:00 A.M. sharp. At least you're doing something worthwhile. Look where I'm at."
"There's got to be another way. You've got to help me out!"
"Yeah, right, and get my butt locked in the center with yours. Just go do your job, and keep your head down, unlike your fath… never mind. Just keep your head down."
"Wait, my father. What'd he do?"
"Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"No, you said something. What'd he do?"
He sighed. "I guess there's no reason not to tell you." He looked around to make sure that no one was listening. "Have you ever heard of the Lone Wanderer?"
"Yeah, that guy that left after his dad. What's he got to do with this?"
"Because he came back. Nine months later, you were born."
Wait a minute… nine months? After he came back? "What?"
"Freddie Gomez isn't your dad. Your dad is the Lone Wanderer, Brad Torino. My best guess is that when he came back he finally hooked up with Amata and no one else knew about it."
"Oh my…"
"The old Overseer, Alphonse, tried to arrest him when he left the Vault. He shot the Overseer in the kneecap and ran. He also took out Paul's dad on the way out. Dang near shot every guard we had back then, other than your dad. They were always friends despite their age differences. I guess that's why Amata took a liking to Freddie when she figured out your dad wasn't coming back."
"You're not making this up, are you?"
"I couldn't. This is too real. Now, I'm sorry, but I can't help you cheat on this test, but I can give you some advice."
"What?"
"You weren't made for the Vault. My advice is to get to the office tomorrow, get your weapons, and get your first assignment. It's always to guard the door. Then, make a run for it."
"Thanks. I'll do that. That Overseer Mack would kill me if I stayed and refused to beat an innocent. But the Wasteland you've told me about is a HUGE place. Where should I go?"
"Megaton is just Southeast-east of here. Head there. From what I heard, it's a good place to start looking for your dad."
"Thanks Mr. Brotch. Any way I can repay you?"
"Bring him home. Lord knows we need him again. You might also want to warn him to keep his paws off your mom. He was pretty 'hot' for her the last I saw and might not take kindly to seeing her with another guy."
"I know what you mean. Thanks again. I'll be careful out there."
"You'll be just fine. You are your father's son."
Vault 101: The Next Day
Security Center
"Hey dad."
"Hey Einar! Looks like you'll be the newest security guard eh? Taking after your old man, that's my boy!"
"Thanks." I know he's not my real dad, but I pretend not to notice.
"What's the matter? You don't seem too enthused?"
"I'm not. It sucks to me today."
"What? Kelly Mack dump you?"
For a split second, I consider telling him, but I decide against it. It's best not to implicate Mr. Brotch. I never knew why, but I really liked the guy. "No, I just don't want to be a security guard."
"Hey, neither did I, but it grows on you. You'll warm up to it."
"I hope so. Who's giving me my training?"
"Well, as a matter of fact, me. They just promoted me yesterday to training instructor."
"Cool. Glad to hear it. What's first?"
Instructor Freddie Gomez spent the rest of the morning teaching me to use my pistol and how to wear my armor. It got boring really quickly, as I was a natural shot with that cheap pistol. It was good to know that I would at least be able to shoot out there.
"Ok, you're as ready as you'll ever be. Other than that, just do whatever the Overseer tells you to, and you'll be fine. Your first post is the door. Have fun with that."
"I'll try." I walked to the door, trying to look like I had somewhere to go, which I did. I was going to find my dad in the Wasteland, just like mine tried to find his. I got to the door, using my security pass to get past the guards on the inside. I locked the door from my side so that they couldn't follow me. I went to hit the switch, when I paused. This was a pretty good life I had going on down here. I had a girlfriend, parents who loved me, plenty to eat and drink, shelter from all the horrors of the wasteland, and an Overseer who I was permanently tied to for the rest of my life and who perpetually hated me for some reason. With that thought, I hit the switch. I could hear the guards banging on the door, but it wouldn't work. If there was one thing I was good at, it was unlocking and locking stuff, both with computers and locks. That was how at one point I turned the lights off and laughed as the med-center piled up with everything from stubbed toes to a twisted ankle. Ok, I admit it, I have a devious streak, but who doesn't? As soon as the door was open, I ran outside and hit the switch to close it again. I had done it. I had broken out of the Vault. I then made my way to the door that lead to the outside. It was night outside, so I wasn't blinded, but it was still pretty bad. Off in the distance I could see some lights, and after confirming the direction on my Pip-Boy, I set off. I encountered nothing on the way but rocks and dead, burned up trees, with the occasional dead bone. Then I saw it. Megaton. Megaton seemed to be built around a dome-shaped wall in the center, and then just sprawling out. There were houses and shops, and even a tavern out there. I walked in. Immediately, someone spotted me. Or, rather, everyone spotted me, but this person seemed to take a special interest in me. He got off the bar where he was sitting and walked over.
"You're from Vault 101."
It wasn't a question, it was a statement. "Yeah, who are you?"
"The name's Kael."
"I'm Einar."
"Einar, huh? Interesting. How's Overseer Amata doing these days, huh? She get worried about me and send you to get me back?
"Overseer Amata? No, Amata's my mom. She was never Overseer. Wally Mack is. That's why I left. And how do you know her?"
"Amata is your mom?"
"Yeah, she married Freddie Gomez. I thought he was my dad until yesterday."
"Who's your dad?"
"According to Mr. Brotch, a guy by the name of Brad Torino. He called him the 'Lone Wanderer'. You happen to know who he's talking about?"
"Brad Torino… now that's a name I haven't heard in a long time."
"You knew him?" Then a girl got up from the bar where Kael was sitting. He waved her back.
"Actually, I know him," he corrected. "And I'll tell you where to find him if you can prove you're his son."
"Sorry, but I don't actually have the DNA tests with me."
"That's not what I meant. If you can prove that you're as good a fighter as he is rumored to be, I'll believe you. For the moment, though, I can't tell the difference between you and a Talon Co. merc that just wants to find out his location to kill him using a bought uniform and sop story to get his location."
"Please, I just want to find him."
"I didn't say I wouldn't tell you, you just got to prove that you are his equal in battle. As far as I know, that is enough to prove that you're his son."
"Anything, I don't care what it is. I'll do it."
"All right. Now, here's what I know about him. His main weapon strength is with small guns. Show me a Xuanlong Chinese Assault Rifle sometimes know as the XCAR, a Terrible-class Combat Shotgun, a Custom 10mm SMG, a Silenced Sniper Rifle, and a Custom .44 Magnum. His main secondary strength is custom weapon building. The first two you can find out there. It'll be hard, but you can. However, the last three don't even exist. You'll have to build them. His third strength is his adaptability of armor and clothing for certain situations. To this end, show me a suit of Ranger Combat Armor, a T51-b suit of Power Armor, a Pre-War Suit, and a complete suit of Type IV Stealth Armor. Another thing he's good at is getting friends. Get a small party together, say three minimum, to help you with this task, and get a base of operations. Do all this, and the location of your father is yours."
"Ouch, that sounds like a lot. Any chance you could help me with that?"
"The only help I'll give you is to get you some decent armor, a rifle, and some advice. All the T51-b's in the Wasteland have fallen into the possession of the Brotherhood of Steel, and they are the only manufacturers of the Type IV Stealth Armor. If you join them, I wouldn't mind counting your squad-mates as you party and the Citadel as your base of operations. They also have a pretty extensive weapons lab for your customizing and have access to Combat Armor. Heck, I'll let you drop the Ranger part of it if you join them."
"Sounds like a good idea. How do I join?" Then the girl who had been waved back stepped forward.
"It's pretty simple, although that doesn't mean easy. Show you're a better fighter than the average Wasteland mutant target practice dummy, and they'll train you. If you don't make it there, you're out. If you make it through training, which I doubt you will, you'll be given the rank of Initiate and attached to a squad. If I were you, I'd make for the Lions' Pride or Wolf Pack. They're the only ones that have access to everything, which includes the T51-b and Type IV. Any questions?"
"How do you know so much?"
"That's for me to know, and you to find out. Good luck."
Kael stepped forward. "Come on, I'll take you to my house and get you geared up." Kael's house turned out to be near the gate to the inner part of town, which actually seemed to be nicer than the outside of town. His house was a two-story deal with a small kitchen and dining/living room down stairs and a bedroom upstairs. To the right of the bedroom was a closed door. I watched as Kael took out a key ring and used one to open the door. I tried to see what was beyond it, but he quickly slipped in and shut the door behind him. When he returned, he was holding some clothes that appeared to be made of leather with bits of metal strapped to it and a bolt-action rifle. He also had a backpack filled with some stuff and a belt with pouches. "Here you go, this is called Leather Armor. I actually wore this suit years ago. Here's the rifle I promised you. It's my very own .32 caliber Hunting Rifle. It's got a lot of memories in it. Take care of it, and it will take care of you. This is an ammo belt. You'll need it and this pack I stuffed with food if you want to survive."
"Thanks. I'll never forget you Kael."
"No problem, Einar. Go get 'em!"
Megaton: The Next Day
The next day, after camping out on Kael's couch, I strapped the rifle to my back and holstered my pistol. I felt empowered, strong, and ready to face whatever challenges may come my way. I had barely slept last night, and it was hardly because of the couch. I was busy planning how I would get into the Brotherhood of Steel. Of course, it would have been easier if I had gotten some more information from Kael, but I thought that if maybe I fought some enemies around them and didn't require rescuing, that would make my job a whole lot easier. At least I could get some credit with some of the Brotherhood. Then again, before that, I would need to get some better weapons. Kael had mentioned Assault Rifles. If my history was correct, the National Guard, which was armed with R91 Assault Rifles, was fully deployed at the time of the bombs falling. That meant that those should be relatively common. If I could get one of those, maybe finding the other guns wouldn't be so bad.
When Kael came down, he looked a little surprised to see me there, but not too bad. "What are you hanging around for? I thought you'd be gone by now."
"I need a little more information about the Wasteland. You told me to join the Brotherhood of Steel, but I don't even know where they operate. Do they operate in the Wasteland, or D.C.? What do they look like, any special clothing to watch for? Where are they based? What weapons do they normally carry? Do they have vehicles? Also, is there a specific place to look for the XCAR and Terrible Shotgun, or are they just spread around out there? What other factions are there? You really told me nothing."
Instead of looking angry, he smiled. "Smart kid. You want to know about the environment you're going into so that you don't die." He walked over the cabinet and pulled out a package of Sugar Bombs and grabbed two bowls from the shelf and set them all down on the table. "All right, I'll answer all your questions after breakfast."
After we ate, he started talking. "Let's start with your first question. Where do the Brotherhood operate. I imagine you really want to know the answer to 'where is the most likely place to find them and prove myself.' Well, you actually don't have to 'prove' yourself. Just go the Citadel, say you want to be trained, and they'll see how well you can shoot, how far you can run, etc. After that, you're good."
"That sounds pretty easy."
"It's deceptive. With that .32 rifle you got there, they'll want you to prove that you can hit five rounds within the bulls-eye. It might also help to get some more weapons before you go. They don't supply anything but ammo and armor until you're a Knight. Also, find out if you're squeamish at the sight of blood. If you are, well, sucks to be you. If you are Brad's son, however, I don't think that'll be a problem. You're born to be a killer. It's in your blood. I don't think you'll have a problem with it."
"Wait, you said something about the Citadel. I've never heard of a Citadel in D.C."
"That's because there was never a purpose-built Citadel. The Citadel is the old Pentagon building to the east on this side of the Potomac. Head there when you think you're ready to join the Brotherhood."
"Ok, and the clothes?"
"Look for people walking around in bulky metal suits of armor. Chances are that's the Brotherhood. As for the weapons and vehicles, they use both captured and a few manufactured Vertibirds to get around and mostly carry Tier-2 weapons if they're Initiates and Tier-3 and Tier-4 weapons if they're higher."
"Tier-2, Tier-3… what do you mean by that?"
"Tier-1 is basic weapons, like what you have. Pistols, hunting rifles, and most melee weapons go here. Tier-2 is more advanced weapons. The line is usually drawn if they're effective against Super Mutants. These include the R91 Assault Rifle, 10mm SMG, AER9 Laser Rifle, Plasma Pistol, Super Sledge, and a few others. Tier-3's are those that just mow through humans and virtually all creatures. They include the Minigun, Missile Launcher, Chinese Assault Rifle, Sniper Rifle, .44 Magnum, Combat Shotgun, Plasma Rifle, and pretty much any really powerful weapon. Then there are the Type-4's. These are the weapons that you most want in your hand and least want in your enemy's. They include any custom weapons you may find that were originally Tier-3's and occasionally Tier-2's, along with the Fat Man Mini Nuke Launcher. There was, however, recently discovered a weapon so powerful that it can only be called a Tier-5 weapon. That weapon, I believe, is referred to in the Brotherhood as the MIRV. I've heard that it shoots eight mini nukes in a spread pattern to completely destroy an entire area, even buildings. It was taken into possession by the Brotherhood and is kept under the strictest guard. Only one person is allowed to use it, and that would be Brad Torino who found it and also donated it."
"Ok, thanks for that. And the guns?"
"Honestly, I don't know. The XCAR is just a Chinese Assault Rifle with an upgraded action and barrel to shoot faster, more accurately, and with greater velocity. You might be able to do that with a normal Chinese Assault Rifle and a few tools. As for the Terrible Shotgun, it's actually a lot simpler. Saw down the barrel about five or six inches and lighten the trigger pull to go full-auto. That actually might give you the experience to do the customizations on the others. Oh, and as for the factions there really aren't that many. Look out for the occasional Deathclaw and Yao Guai and maybe a few Raiders, but the rest really aren't important. The Slavers have been exterminated along with the Super Mutants, and the river was purified so the Mirelurks left. Talon Company was completely destroyed in a one-Lone-Wanderer assault. The Enclave was completely wiped out at Adams Air Force Base and Raven Rock, and that pretty much leaves the Brotherhood of Steel and Regulators, and they're both the good guys."
"Well, I know I should be overjoyed at that news, but that brings up one good question: who the hell am I supposed to shoot at?"
That gave him some pause. "Good question, actually. Let me think about that for a moment." Kael furrowed his brow in thought, a brow that was heavily scarred from the Wasteland. "I got it! My contact in the Brotherhood told me that they were sending an expeditionary party up North into the ruins of what used to be New York. They're short on numbers, however, so the wanted to take a few Wastelanders along to swell their ranks. Those that survive are accepted into the Brotherhood. That might be a good place to start, although you'll want at least a Tier-2 weapon. In the meantime, however, there's a good-sized Raider Gang newly holed up in the Super Duper Mart just east of here. Head there and clear them out. Chances are, they'll have at least a few Tier-2's on them."
"Thanks, that really helps. I'll clear them out in no time."
"Hey, just because I like you, I'll give you a hint about Raiders. They might be stoned, high, and hammered at the same time, but they're used to shooting like that. They don't shoot well by our standards, but for all the stuff they're on, they're pretty good. Don't underestimate them, especially if they have a melee weapon. That's their forte, since they don't even need to aim well to hurt you. Take care of yourself, Einar."
"I will. Bye." I checked my gear, made sure my guns were fully loaded, and headed east for the Mart.
A Few Hours Later: Super Duper Mart
When I saw it in the distance, I snuck around it to see what the guard arrangements were outside. As it turned out, they had sixteen guards all around the outside, with an additional two at the door. Worse yet, these guards looked like they weren't stoned, high, or hammered. They were standing straight up with Hunting Rifles, Assault Rifles, and 10mm SMGs and keeping a good look-out. These dudes don't look like the Raiders I heard about. They are well-armed, decently well armored, and there's not a single bottle in sight. Then, one spotted me.
"Hey! Who the fuck are you?"
"That depends on who's asking. You don't look like a Raider to me."
"Oh yeah?"
"If you were a Raider, you wouldn't be able to stand straight up, much less walk in a straight line!"
"This isn't convincing enough?" He raised his Assault Rifle, but I was in cover behind a large boulder.
"You would also have raised that sooner, and maybe an alarm, too."
"Fuck! Guys, this kid has us figured out." The two closest to him ran over, one holding an SMG and the other a Combat Shotgun. "Look, kid, we won't hurt you, all right? This is just a disguise we're wearing. It's safe to come out."
"And as soon as I break from cover, you shoot me. Yeah, right."
"I'm serious! We won't! Just lower your weapon and come out."
"I'll get serious about that when you give me your guns and ammo."
"All right, all right, here." They held their guns by the barrels and walked halfway up the hill I was on. They put them down, along with their ammo, took out their side-arms and the ammo for those, too, and put them down. One of them even took out a Combat Knife and threw it in the pile. "Ok, do you believe us now?"
"Back down the hill. You'll get your weapons back once I know for certain you are who you say you are." Once they backed down, I came out from cover with my rifle pointed in their direction. I picked up the whole pile of weapons, put them on my back, and lifted the shotgun. "Considering the excessive amount of security you have here, I assume you don't have a problem taking me inside. One shot fired, and, well, use your imagination."
"Yeah, whatever," one of them said, the one that had the Combat Knife. They were dressed in rag-tag clothes and armor, alright, but their bodies were clean. The guards we came across also surrendered their weapons due to my "friendly" persuasion and came too. By the time we got to the door, I was holding almost more weapons than I could carry and marching no less than six guys in front of me. They opened the door, and beyond there were about thirty Raiders, just as well-armed as them, wondering "What the hell is going on here?" I put away the shotgun and pulled out an Assault Rifle.
"Who's in charge?" One of them stepped forward, a blond guy who looked to be in his early-thirties, and I aimed my gun at him. "Who are you? Because you sure as hell aren't Raiders." Some of the other, whatever they were, brought their guns to the ready, but he waved them down.
"Tell me, how did you figure that out?"
"Well, I've never actually met Raiders, but from what I hear about them, one: you haven't been doing drugs; two: I don't see a beer in anyone's hand; three: your guards were actually paying attention; four: they surrendered their guns to a kid with a hunting rifle just to prove they weren't instead of shooting said guns. Any more questions?"
He laughed. "Well! I knew we would be found out one day, but not by a kid just from the Vault!"
That took me by surprise. "What?"
"One: you have a Pip-Boy; two: you only had a Hunting Rifle and a 10mm Pistol; three: you didn't shoot us on sight; four: you actually collected and carried all the guns of six of my guards. Any more questions?"
I let it slide. "So now you have me at a disadvantage. You know who I am, but I only know who you aren't."
"Fair enough. Actually, we're from the Pitt, or what you might know as Pittsburg. We came to establish a new settlement in the Capital Wasteland since space was getting low over there. This armor we're wearing is just what we could make from scrap over there, and it's given us a sort of protection from any would-be nosy Wastelanders, but we'll be making the transition to more Wasteland-appropriate garments as soon as the perimeter is finished. Are you going to put that gun away now?"
So, they're from the Pitt. That explains a lot, such as their clothes and weapons. I put the weapons and ammo I had collected on the floor, leaving the Assault Rifle I was holding for last. The guards I had disarmed quickly took their guns and left, and the settlers resumed what they were doing before I came, which, as I saw, was moving and dismantling racks. The blonde guy walked over. "Sorry about that, I just couldn't take any chances."
"Ah, no harm no foul. Don't worry about it. I'm Sheriff Michael Sanders of Mart Town." He put out his hand.
I shook it. "Einar Torino, late of Vault 101."
"Torino?"
"Yeah, that mean something to you?"
"Any relation to Brad Torino?"
"Yeah, he's my dad."
He broke into a big grin. "It's an honor. My dad told me stories about yours when we were still slaves in the Pitt. He was actually the one who freed us."
"Wow, really?"
"He didn't tell you?"
"Actually, I've never met him. I'm trying to find him right now."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Hey, when you do, tell him to stop by for a drink."
"I will. Oh, and you might want to send a guy over to Megaton, in non-Raider clothes, of course, and let a guy by the name of Kael know that you're not actually Raiders. He was the one who sent me here."
"I'll do that. Thanks for the advice. Anything else I can help you with?"
"Not unless you happen to have, say, an Assault Rifle that you can give me for, like, really cheap."
"I might, if you could do a job for me."
"What's that?"
"North-east of here is a large building by the river. It used to be a hardware store. We've tried to get in, but we couldn't find a way. If you could get me a load of tools from there, specifically hammers, wrenches, and some fasteners, that might be worth an Assault Rifle and a few rounds to me. If you bring back a few welders, too, I might even add an SMG to the mix."
"I'll do that. See you when I get back."
"Good luck."
I walked over to the building in question. It looked like a three- or four-story building, and had, in fainted letters, "Johnson's Hardware Emporium" on a sign over the door. It was one of those doors that open automatically, and the mechanism had gone out, so I cracked the glass door with the butt of my rifle. Inside, I found a counter with a pre-war cash register. I opened it and retrieved the bills, thinking they might be useful for trade later. I also took the boxes of cigarettes from the counter. I don't smoke, but someone else will pay to. After stuffing them in my pack, I looked around. I found a rack of tools and took four hammers and three sets of wrenches. I then filled my pack with boxes of nails and bolts, both big and small, and grabbed two acetylene welders from the back. I put on my heavy pack and wheeled the torches back to Sheriff Sanders. When I got to him, he congratulated me on getting the tools.
"Great job, kid! You're all right by me." He took the tools and fasteners, and put the torches against a wall. He then pointed to a table containing an Assault Rifle and a 10mm SMG and a lot of rounds. "Help yourself. You earned it."
"Thanks. Oh, if you ever want to go in there again, I destroyed the glass door. There's literally tons of tools and building materials in there. It should be really easy to get more if you run out."
"Wow! You mean to say it hasn't been looted yet?"
"That's exactly what I mean."
"Incredible! Hey, when we get finished with this place, feel free to come and go any time. That's not exactly something we would give just anyone. All of the racks are going to be re-made into stalls outside for people to trade and stuff, but if you want to come in here, be my guest."
"Thanks, Sheriff. Sorry again for that little episode earlier."
"Ah, you've made it up to us. The son of the Lone Wanderer would be all right in our books if he actually did shoot at us." Then a kid, looked to be about my age, walked up. He had brown, shaggy hair, and was wearing a suit of Leather Armor and carrying a Combat Shotgun. His eyes were brown, and he had an abnormally strong jaw and thin forehead.
"You're the son of the Lone Wanderer?"
"Yeah, why?"
He started grinning wildly. "You mean he was real?"
I laughed. "Well I'd hope so! If he wasn't, I wouldn't be here."
"Well, yeah, but the stories I've heard about him… you wouldn't believe half of them!"
I nodded. "Probably not, but I wouldn't know. I'm looking for him now."
"Wait, you lost him?"
"No, I mean I never met him. Yesterday I escaped from Vault 101. He hasn't been there for almost seventeen years."
"Oh, man. Hey, I'd love to help you find him."
Sheriff spoke up. "You want to go with him?"
"Yeah, I kinda do. I've been pretty much cooped up my whole life, except for the trip here which didn't really count. I really want to get out there and see what's up."
"Ok, but be careful."
"Yes, Dad." So, they were father and son.
"I have to get going. The Brotherhood of Steel is sending an expedition to New York, and I mean to be on it."
"I didn't know they were taking Wastelanders," the kid said.
"Oh, they do, at least on this trip. They're a little short on manpower, so they wanted to take some people with them. If you survive, they let you in."
"Oh cool!"
"Come on, I have to get to the citadel."
"Right, let's go."
We left and started walking down the river, when I remembered something. "Hey, I almost forgot. What's your name?"
"Andrew, what's yours?"
"Einar. I'm glad I have some company on this trip."
"Yeah, me too. I've been meaning to ask Dad to let me go out one of these days, and I'd finally worked up the nerve, when you showed up. Thanks for the excuse."
"You're welcome."
On the road to the Citadel: five minutes later
"Hey, what's that up ahead?" I looked. There stood two, large things. They were yellow-green and their skin looked sick. I didn't really want to guess the size of those muscles, they were so large.
"Super Mutants."
"You know about them?"
"Kael, in Megaton, told me about them last night. I never really thought they would be so large." Just then, one turned around.
"Dinner!" it roared, as it pulled out a hunting rifle and started shooting. Its partner pulled out an Assault Rifle and started shooting that.
"Cover!" We rolled behind a log and took out our guns. I aimed for the head of the Super Mutant that was holding the Assault Rifle as I heard Andrew's Combat Shotgun roar as it took down the other one. After about half the clip, mine fell, bleeding severely from its head. The other didn't last much longer. I quickly reloaded.
"Wow," said Andrew, "we make a good team."
"Yeah, we do. Good job."
"You too. Your first kill?"
"Actually, yeah. Yours?"
"Same."
"Nice. I guess neither of us is allergic to killing."
"Those weren't humans. It's different."
"Good point."
Citadel: Two Hours Later
"Is that it?" Andrew asked.
I looked. "Yeah, that's it."
He whistled. "Yikes, that's big."
"I just hope we get there in time to leave."
We made it to the door, under the very disapproving eyes of the guards. They were probably wondering what two kids were doing at the most heavily guarded place in the Citadel, and hoping we had a good answer.
"Halt, who goes there?" said the guard at the door. I gave Andrew a look to let him know that I would do the talking.
"My name's Einar, and this is Andrew. We heard about an expedition to New York that you're taking Wastelanders on, and we thought it might be cool to come along."
He sighed. "Yeah, we're going there. You could only have heard about that from someone in the Brotherhood, and I guess you know not to try anything "stupid," so I'll take you in and find you an escort." He then pulled out a radio and talked into it for a little while. After a minute, the gate opened. "Get moving."
And moving we got. We didn't exactly stay around to figure out how long the gate would be open. When we got inside, we found a Knight in Power Armor there to guide us. "Follow," he said. He turned around and walked toward the door. It opened into a big courtyard where several soldiers were training and drilling. Wasting no time, he quickly strode to a man who seemed to be in charge. "Sergeant, Knight LeMoir reporting with two for initial training in preparation for the expedition. The man addressed as "Sergeant" looked us over with a critical eye.
"Good, LeMoir. Back to your post." Lemoir saluted and went to stand along the perimeter wall with other Knights. "Names?"
"Last or first, sir?"
"Last will do."
"Gomez, and this is Sanders."
"Good, at least one of you knows how to talk. This training is more of a test to see if you are strong enough to go the distance. Pass and you can go, but by the looks of things, neither of you are going to pass. You," he pointed at me, "don't look strong in the arms, and you," he pointed to Andrew, "don't look like you have any head to have brains in. I'd wish you luck, but that would give you an unfair advantage."
"We can do it, sir," said Andrew.
"We'll see. Fifty pushups, now." We dropped and knocked them out easily. My arms are deceptive. I actually have very little weight for them to lift. "Good. One hundred situps." That was a little harder for Andrew, but not by much. His center of gravity was just a little higher than mine. "All right, 20 laps around the courtyard." We started out neck-and-neck, but then Andrew charged ahead. About lap 13, he had to slow down. Eventually I caught up to him, and then passed him. By the end of the exercise, I had almost lapped him. I stopped just past the line and waited for him to catch up. "Excellent job, Gomez. Sanders, good, except you need to learn to pace yourself. Both of you passed, and much better than most recruits. Well done. I'll look forward to having you both for Basic Training tomorrow. It's about sundown, now, so get something to eat in the mess hall and get some rest. You can bunk in the beds you see outside, except for those that have someone's pack next to it. LeMoir will take you to the mess hall." At that, the Knight in question walked over.
"Thank you sir."
"Let's go. Good job for your first day."
"Thank you Knight LeMoir."
"Just LeMoir. We don't use the abbreviation in normal conversation for Knights, just Paladins, Sergeants, Scribes, and Elders. This way."
"Yes sir." He took us through a door and down a flight of stairs into a large chamber containing what looked to be a scaffolding for something, though I couldn't guess what. From there, he led us down a few more flights of stairs and through another tunnel to a galley.
"Grab a ration from the shelf and take a seat in that booth over there." The booth in question had two people, both girls, and both obviously just from the Wasteland. We grabbed our food, which turned out to be a Salisbury Steaks and a bottle of purified water apiece, and took our seats.
The girls looked at us, so I decided to say something. "LeMoir said to sit here. We didn't have any choice in the matter."
"Oh, that's not it. We were just wondering at your face, like we'd seen it before," said the one sitting next to me, an attractive, slim Hispanic with long black hair in a ponytail and a fair complexion.
"Well, maybe. That's not the first time I've heard that. Where're you from?"
The other, a freckled redhead, spoke up. "Well, we were originally from Little Lamplight, but when we were three some slavers captured us and took us to Paradise Falls. That only lasted a few months, however, when we were rescued by Brad Torino, and were taken with the other freed slaves to Megaton. We've been living there ever since, or at least until we heard about this expedition. We figured that it was the best way to see the world, and we'd maybe get a decent job, too. Mostly, we've been working at the Brass Lantern as waitresses, but it doesn't pay much at all. Oh, sorry, I completely forgot. I'm Kayla Smith." She shook hands with me and Andrew.
"Nice to meet you. I'm Einar Gomez, and this is Andrew Sanders.
"Elaina Martinez," the Spanish-looking girl said.
"Pretty name," I said.
"Does your friend talk at all?" said Kayla.
"Yeah, I talk. He's just better at it than me."
"Oh, I see. So, where are you two from?"
"I'm originally from the Pitt, that's Pittsburg, if you don't know. We moved into the Super-Duper Mart east of Megaton a week ago and are working on converting it into a small town."
"Nice, and you, Einar?" said Elaina.
"I'm from Vault 101, same as Brad Torino. I'm the grandson of Security Officer Gomez who happened to be the only guard friendly to Brad Torino when he left Vault 101. The rest tried to kill him."
"Well, it's good to meet a descendant of a friend of our liberator."
"Yeah, that's why I'm traveling around with him," said Andrew. "Not to mention he did a good deed for the Mart, getting us into an old hardware store that had somehow avoided being looted for two centuries."
"Nice. Anything else you've done?"
"Nothing much, unless you consider a few Super Mutant kills on our way here something."
"Super Mutants? That's better than what we got. All we encountered was a pack of Mole Rats."
"I envy you."
They laughed. "So," said Kayla, "you looking forward to this trip?"
"I'd hope so. I really want to get into the Brotherhood of Steel."
"Yeah, me too, and this seems to be the only way to do it," said Elaina.
"Believe me, if there was an easier way, I'd take it."
"But there isn't, so I guess we both have to deal with it." She said "we". As soon as I thought that, she slid her hand, which was on her lap, onto my hand, also in my lap. "In case you didn't notice, I did say 'we.'"
Kelly would be so mad if she were here… oh well. She's in Vault 101 and I'm out here. She doesn't have to know, if this doesn't work out. "Well, what do 'we' have in mind?"
"Let's start with what we can do tonight."
"I was hoping for something more realistic. The Initiate beds are in the open, and guarded."
"Yes, but the bathrooms aren't. And they're not gender-specific."
"I think that 'we' would want something a little more, um, comfortable before we do anything else."
She sighed. "Well, do 'we' have a better suggestion?"
"Is there an open bed next to yours?"
"No, there isn't an open bed at all."
"Then in that case, it seems as though we might have to double up."
"'We' like that idea."
At this point, we were done with our dinner, and LeMoir came back to escort us to the beds. Me and Elaina walked side-by-side, not holding hands, but close enough to talk. After a little while, I glanced back to Andrew and Kayla. They were also walking near each other, talking and laughing.
"Here we are," said LeMoir. I just found out there aren't any open beds, so you'll have to double up. Try to go guys with girls, it's less weird that way."
"I don't think we'll have a problem with that," said Elaina. She walked me to her bed, which happened to be off to the side away from the others. "You can put your pack here," she said as she indicated a spot next to hers. I did, and we changed into clothes that we felt more comfortable wearing to bed, me in my Vault Jumpsuit and her in some Wasteland clothes, turning our backs to give each other some privacy. Then, we climbed into bed, sharing one thin blanket between us. At first I moved to the side to give her some room, but that didn't seem to be on her agenda. She turned toward me and put her hand on my shoulder, turning me onto my back. I looked at her. She did look very beautiful with the moonlight shining down on her dark hair and making her golden skin glow. She really did have a gorgeous body, with all the curves in the right places. Honestly, I was finding it hard to keep myself from taking her right then and there. Then she brushed my shaggy hair out of my eyes and put her hand on the back of my neck, then leaned forward for a kiss. I put my hand around her waist and pulled her in, as I inclined my neck for the kiss. Then our lips met. She was succulent, much better tasting than Kelly, who had been known to steal drugs from the doctor's office just to get high. She tasted pure, like the water we had had with our dinner, mixed with a slight tinge of meat. I imagined I tasted similar. We kept going, our bodies getting closer and closer, and our tongues going deeper and deeper. Finally, I just couldn't stand it any longer. I shifted her under me, and moved my hands around to her front. She didn't refuse. As I unzipped her jeans, she moved her hands from my rear to help. We got her pants off, and then her fingers started making their way to the zipper of my jumpsuit. The blanket stayed on, and we meant to keep it that way, although it would be a fight. Neither of us got much sleep that night, and at the end, we both felt, for lack of a better word, good.
The Citadel: The Next Morning
In the morning, we were woken by reverie and Gunny's call of "All Wasteland mutant fodder to the training arena!" Elaina and I got dressed in our armor, her in some merc clothing and I in my Leather Armor. We grabbed our weapons and headed down to the training arena along with some other Wastelanders in various states of weapons and armor, from near-pristine Combat Armor sporting some custom improvements with Chinese Assault Rifles, to Leather Armor and SMGs, to home-made armor cobbled together from random pieces of junk and a Hunting Rifle, to shirtsleeves and a .32 Pistol, and just about everything in between. With my Leather Armor and selection of decent weapons, I was proud to put myself in the upper 10-15% of preparedness. Elaina had a Chinese-themed getup going, from her Chinese Officer's Sword, Pistol, and Assault Rifle to her jumpsuit on which was based her entire armor, which included metal plates on the pant-legs, a bullet-proof vest that appeared to be from some Combat Armor, and shoulder armor not unlike my Leather Armor's shoulder armor. I made a mental note to grab some protection for my chest and head as soon as possible, as I saw a good number of helmets from Combat Helmets to Motorcycle Helmets and the most prepared people had some kind of chest armor. Of course, the Brotherhood was there with their Power Armor, but I'd get there soon. The Wastelanders, over sixty of us, lined up across the middle. Some, like me, Andrew, and Elaina, who managed to stand near me, were standing at attention, looking straight forward with our hands at our sides and weapons in place. Others, like Kayla, were slouching and talking to their neighbors, sometimes in clumps. As it turned out, those at attention did the right thing. When Sergeant Gunny and two other Knights walked up, they picked us out of line to come with them. I did notice that not everyone at attention was picked, only those that were prepared in some way. Of course, that seemed to go hand-in-hand in most cases. At the end, only eight were chosen, including Elaina, Andrew, two brothers in Combat Armor armed with R91s, a badass merc girl with a Sniper Rifle and SMG, a serious-looking ghoul (Kael told me a lot about the Wasteland that night) in Leather Armor with a Combat shotgun, a huge man with a minigun and a full suit of what looked like Metal Armor, and, of course, me. We were lined up in front of the others in the "at ease" position. "All right, everybody SHUT UP!" shouted Gunny. "These are going to be your Lieutenants. They will each pick a team of eight of you to be their squad. I'm putting them in charge of you since they seem to know that this is the MILITARY and not a SOCIAL CLUB!" At this point, his face was turning red with anger. "It's bad enough you all think you can survive this trip, but to think that when you're supposed to be taking orders and LEARNING HOW TO SURVIVE is a good time to make FRIENDS! You can do that on your own time, but now you're on MY time. Mark my words, these eight are going to survive, and I don't want anyone up here that WON'T! Now, this will work just like it used to when you were picking teams for a game when you were kids, so you should all be very familiar with it. Sanders, start us off."
"I'll take that guy with the shotgun, over there." He indicated a man as large as the one that stood up here, and twice as mean with the tattoos and scars all over his bare torso, and bearing a Combat Shotgun. He wouldn't have been my first pick. As a leader, you need to control your team.
"Charon, you're up!"
"I'll have that guy with the Scout Armor and Sniper Rifle." He was slender, but looked strong enough, and had a Silenced 10mm Pistol at his hip. I supposed that the ghoul, Charon he was called, would pick a team to shore up his weak points, a good strategy.
This continued on until the last person standing had been picked. Initially I looked for those who would serve as equals so that I wouldn't have to worry about particular strengths and weaknesses, until all that were left were those who everyone just knew wouldn't survive. Then I looked for the ones with the best weapons. My team ended up consisting of a sniper in customized Combat Armor, two of Jacks-of-all-Trades armed with R91 Assault Rifles and 10mm Pistols, one guy that looked like he could fix weapons, (judging by the look of his decent home-made armor and Laser Rifle), one dude who thought he was a badass with a Hunting Rifle and SMG, a kid in Wastelander Clothes with a Combat Shotgun and long, blonde hair, one guy with two 10mm Pistols at his hips, a Combat Knife strapped to his arm, and a Sawed-off strapped to his leg, and one final guy with a Chinese Pistol. I only picked the last guy because the alternative was a teenage girl with a .32 Pistol
When we had finished, Sergeant Gunny went to the front. "You have the rest of the day to train your team. I suggest you use it. I'll be around if you need any advice or help, but don't ask too often. You may come and go at will during this day, but keep close to the Citadel if you want to go outside. Organize, train, whatever; I don't care. Just make sure you're in before sundown."
"Yes sir," we responded.
"Lieutenants, dismissed for individual training." I took my squad to the shooting range to see how they did. Just like I thought, the Sniper, named Levi, returned a perfect score on bottles and cans. The fix-it guy, who was called Mack, knew how to use his rifle, and he claimed that he really was good at fixing and hacking things. One of my "Jacks" actually was named Jack, if you can believe it, and him and his twin brother Larry (who had caused a bit of scene from refusing to be separated during the selection process) were competent with both their rifles and pistols. The Chinese Pistol guy, Chen, was a kind of hidden gem, as he was actually very accurate with the weapon. "Badass", named Brad, was absolutely horrible. He couldn't shoot his gun anywhere near the target, and with the SMG on full-auto he was worse. Honestly, I would have felt safer being the target. Finally, I just took it from him and gave it to China, who was actually of Chinese descent. He was spot-on accurate, and, despite the protests of "Bradass," as he was quickly called, I insisted that he be given the better weapon. I determined that in my squad, if you couldn't handle a weapon, you couldn't use it. Levi then asked me if I could us my weapons. To show him, I shot one clip each with all of my weapons, going through my pistol, which returned a grouping within an inch from thirty yards; Hunting Rifle, which was virtually spot-on accurate; Assault Rifle, which had a grouping about the size of my fist from 100 yards; and SMG, a grouping of about the same as my R91 from about half the distance. No one doubted that I was good. Personally, it was a pleasant surprise. However, when Mack let me try his Laser Rifle, I almost missed the wall behind the target! And thus began and ended my career with Energy Weapons. The last guy, Clint, demonstrated that he could fire off the draw with dead-on accuracy with all of his weapons, although he seemed to be pretty silent. I think I found our stealth guy. I organized them into two squads and promoted the most talented of the squad to Corporal. Since there were eight of us, I put Levi, Jack, and Larry into one squad with Jack in charge, and Clint, Bradass, Chen, and Mack in the other, with Mack in charge. I felt that, with the exception of Bradass, we had a good team, with one squad built for range and the other for more stealth and close-range. Then I got a tap on my shouder. It was Charon.
"I need to trade someone."
"Who?"
"It's this girl who's only good for stealth. I know she's good, but I'm not exactly a stealth kind of guy."
"Well, most of my guys are also good for stealth, but Brad isn't good for anything except for making noise."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's just say the safest thing to be around him is what he's shooting at."
"Great, I'll take him. I have someone who thought they could handle two Combat Shotguns at once, and found out that it's too much. Maybe he'll be able to aim with that."
"If you think so." I turned to Bradass. "Hey Brad, you're going with Charon."
"That maggot farm? I don't think-" BLAM! Charon shot his head off with his shotgun.
"I have no patience for bigots," he said as way of explanation to the Knight who came over to find out what happened. "If you have a problem, take it up with Peacemaker," he said while tapping his shotgun. The Knight left quickly, evidently not trusting his armor to Charon's shotgun.
"Do I still get your girl?"
"Yeah, sure. I got the last one, so I still have eight."
"Thanks for taking care of Bradass. He was getting an attitude towards me, and if he had lived I think I would have knocked the living daylights out of him."
"You're welcome. By the way, depending on your attitude, I can be a powerful ally or a dangerous enemy. If I were, you, I would choose the former."
"I'll keep that in mind."
With that, he beckoned to his command, and the same girl who I had chosen Chen over walked over, holding the .32 Pistol she had before. I gave her Brad's Hunting Rifle to use for a primary weapon. Her name was Mara, and it turned out that she actually was pretty stealthy. Her slender form allowed her to slip by unnoticed where we would stick out like sore thumbs, and she was deadly accurate with the Hunting Rifle. Then Paladin Gunny came over with a new kid dressed in Wasteland Clothes and carrying a Combat Shotgun.
"Here, this'll be your commander." The kid nodded once, then turned to me.
"I'm Lieutenant Gomez, interim member of the Brotherhood of Steel. Name?"
"Mark."
"All right, Mark, show me you can use that shotgun. If you can't, I'll have to get you a new weapon." He proceeded to demonstrate that, yes, he can use the shotgun effectively. I put him with the range squad as a close-range spotter. Then I got my team together and laid out my entire combat philosophy.
"Here's my philosophy that we're going to follow: fight smart. That's why we have a long-range squad and a short-range squad. The short-range squad is going to get first pick of any stealth weapons, shotguns, and SMGs. The long-range squad is going to get first pick of any Assault Rifles and Sniper Rifles. The idea is not to survive the hit, but to not get hit in the first place. Use the terrain, blend in. Don't go in "guns blazing" unless you absolutely have to. Our first priority is to stay alive. That doesn't mean we're not going to take risks, but we're not taking any unnecessary risks. Other than the splitting I just said, all guns belong to the Squad now. That means that if you need a gun, ask and you shall receive. We're all brothers and sisters now, and the crowning moment of my life will be when I can lead you back to this Citadel in one piece. That doesn't mean I'm going to go easy on you, but I want you to know that your safety is my priority."
"We know," said Levi. "You're in charge, and until you take us in a bad direction, we'll follow El Nino."
"'El Nino?'"
"'The Boy.'"
I laughed. "Ok, I like it. Let's go with that."
Then Larry spoke up. "What are we going to call our group?"
"What do you think? Los Ninos of course!" said Levi.
"Wait, we're not all boys," said Mara.
"In Spanish, when there's a mix of boys and girls, it's still Ninos."
"Oh, ok."
"When did you learn Spanish?" I asked.
"Oh, it runs in my mother's family. Her maiden name was Velasquez."
"Nice. Ok, let's head outside for some training."
"What kind?" asked Mack.
"Strength, but specifically legs. We're going to be needing them."
"You mean running?" asked Jack.
"Don't worry, I'm going with you. Just because I'm in charge doesn't mean I don't need it myself."
"How far?" asked Mara.
"Until you can't." We got outside the door, and I started jogging around the Citadel. The rest followed me at their own paces. I meant what I told them, and I kept jogging until I could barely walk. Luckily it was time to head in, so we did. The weaker ones, Mara, Mark, and Mack, had virtually collapsed a long time ago and were sitting with their backs to the building with most of the others, who had dropped out recently. Levi and Chen were still jogging, although tired beyond belief, so I stopped them to help me help the others into the Citadel. We got them down to the mess hall, and pulled up a few more chairs and a folding table I found in a corner. Even though Mara had been sitting for the past two hours, her legs still hurt too bad to walk, so we found her a chair near the end to make it easier to get her out.
"So, what do you think?"
"Ow," said Mack.
"It feels like we ran a marathon," agreed Chen.
"Actually, you did more than that." A Knight broke in. "You, your friend [indicating Levi], and your Lieutenant actually ran thirty miles apiece today. I counted."
"I'm sorry, I don't recognize you. You are…?"
"I'm Paladin Vargas, member of the Lyons' Pride. I answer directly to Sarah Lyons, who answers directly to Elder Lyons. No need to get up," he quickly added when I started to rise, "when you tell your squad to run a marathon and they are inspired enough to do it, you're a Paladin in my book."
"Thank you, sir, but until I earn that rank I would prefer not to fancy myself a Paladin until I earn that rank."
"Smart lad. You'll do us proud. What's your name and rank?"
"I'm Lieutenant Einar Gomez. The squad's taken to calling me 'El Nino.'"
He chuckled. "'El Nino,' now that's a nickname. Keep it, it's better than most, especially since you actually are a nino."
"I will Paladin."
"Hey, I'll tell you what. If you can do what you were doing tomorrow, I'll see if I can get you all some armor and weapon upgrades. Some of you," indicating Mara and Chen, "need it."
"Well, I can't promise that we'll be running again, but we'll definitely be doing something.
"Good, that's all I ask. Keep up the training. That kid Sanders is going easy on his squad. Don't fall into that trap. The Pride didn't get where it is by going easy."
"I'll keep that in mind."
"Good night, Nino."
"Good night, Paladin." After Vargas left, we were left stunned. A Paladin, no less one in the Lyons' Pride, thought we were doing a good job. Then I saw a face I knew. Is that that girl who was with Kael in Megaton? I didn't say anything, and turned my eyes back on my food after only a quick glance, but she saw it and walked over.
"So, Einar, I see you had the guts to come along."
"Yeah, I did. Sorry, I didn't catch your name in Megaton."
"Well, I'm sure you caught it around here. I'm Sarah Lyons."
I couldn't help it. My jaw dropped, along with about seven others at the table. "Y-you're Sara Lyons? As in, Lyons' Pride Sarah Lyons?" I finally stammered out.
"Yeah, also as in the most dangerous soldier in the Brotherhood. I heard about your little jog around the Citadel. I have to say, I'm impressed for your first day."
"Well, thanks, I guess. I wasn't really trying to impress anyone, but thanks anyway."
"Well, with your dad I wouldn't expect anything less, but the Pride is actually in an uproar about you."
"Me?" I'm not sure what's happening, but I like it. This is pretty good. First a Paladin, now Sarah Lyons. Who's next? Elder Lyons himself?
"We boast that we run half-marathons on a daily basis. If you can do that every day for a week, I'll have to change our training schedule or be upstaged by a kid fresh out of Vault 101. Although, by the looks of your squad, I doubt you'd be able to do it."
Mara spoke up. "How much you want to bet?"
Sarah chuckled. "How about entry into the Brotherhood of Steel prior to leaving and confirmed upon your safe return with a minimum starting rank for each of you as Knight, and how about I throw in Power Armor Training and access to the Class-II armory as a bonus? That stuff's almost as good as the Pride gets."
"It sounds good to me, but talk to the Ninos," I said. "That's a lot of running for them."
They looked at each other awkwardly for a few seconds before Mark cleared his throat and said "We'll do it until we can't." Everyone else nodded.
"Good luck, because that's the only way it's going to happen. At least three of you have to complete a marathon between sunup and sundown and the others at least three-quarters of one. I'll talk to Gunny about it and make sure you get time to do it and have water bottle available." With that, she turned her back and walked away. All I knew at the moment was that this was going hurt, but we would do it until we couldn't.
Citadel Mess Hall: 24 hours later
"Is anyone else regretting that we made this bet?" asked Mara.
We just groaned simultaneously. There was nothing to say. We were sore from the day before, and our legs were burning from that day. "Hey, all I have to say is this: we can rest in our graves. As far as we're concerned, we'll do it until we can't."
Chen piped up. "That's right. We'll keep running until we drop, every day until we can't get out of bed, every week until we die. We'll do it until we can't."
"Amen," said Jack.
"I think that's our motto: We'll do it until we can't," said Mack.
Then Mark cleared his throat. "To the last bullet, we can't stop fighting. To the last breath, we can't stop living. To the last step, we can't stop running." That got a slightly muted round of applause, more from exhaustion than anything else. Nobody was looking forward to the next day. If today wasn't hell, tomorrow would be. And it was only day three.
Citadel Front Gate: 23 hours 19 minutes later
I struggled in, followed by Chen and Jack. We could all feel our muscles toning, but it was taking too long. Last night, we had agreed to swap out the front-runners with Jack and Larry, who had been pacing themselves for ¾ of a marathon for the last few days, and so were slightly more rested than us. I could never refuse because that would be to put my people through something I wasn't willing to go through myself. Chen had refused today, but Levi had accepted. I couldn't blame the guy. I didn't collapse at the finish line, but I was close to it. A minute later, the other five came in. We helped support each other to the mess hall, and forced ourselves to eat. People were beginning to talk about us. I heard from Vargas this morning that some were re-naming the Ninos the Hurricanes, but at the moment I didn't care. I was just too tired to think. Then Sarah Lyons came up to the table.
"Still think it's such a good idea? You could give up the bet at any time, no one would blame you. You've already earned a name for yourselves, and you haven't even seen combat yet."
Mark cleared his throat. "No one starts a race simply to start it. They start it to finish it."
"We'll do it," I agreed. "We'll do it until we can't."
Citadel Mess Hall: 24 hours later
This time when we stumbled in, it wasn't just us helping ourselves. We hadn't collapsed, exactly, but we were close to it. Andrew and his command were also helping us in, literally picking up and carrying Mara so that she could get here after she almost fainted two inches after the finish line. There was nothing to say. We were at the end of our strength. We had been at the end of our strength for the last five days. What started out as a simple exercise turned out to be a challenge that was being recorded for Brotherhood history by the Scribes, who would make it a record along with the kill records of the Lyons' Pride and the discoveries of the Wolf Pack. The Hurricanes, as we were known, would go down in history as the squad that started the Trial Challenge. Now all we could do was to finish making our record.
Citadel Front Gate: 24 hours later
We had become almost as animals, slaves to our legs. We were on autopilot, not even caring about anything. We needed a rest. There was no dinner for us, that night. We went straight to bed.
Citadel Initiates' Beds: 13 hours later
I woke up next to Elaina, who had somehow managed to ignore the smell and keep sleeping in the same bed with me, and started getting out of bed. Then I realized something. Reverie hadn't played. We had missed it. I got out of bed quickly but then Sarah walked up. Shit, she's going to gloat about how we had missed the last day. But she didn't. She simply put her hand on my shoulder and said "Today is Sunday. Unless you're on guard duty, you rest. The bet is still good. Now rest. That's an order. I've already told your squad. Now get some sleep." There is a God after all!
I didn't need to be told twice. I lay down, and the next thing I knew was Levi shaking my shoulder. "Hey Einar, dinner. I didn't think you'd want to miss this." I nod and get up, realizing that I haven't changed my jumpsuit for thirty-six hours and probably stink to high heaven.
"Give me a minute to change and I'll be right there." He nods and leaves. I quickly take off my jumpsuit and put on my Leather Armor. I haven't worn it since day two of the running, shedding it for the more breathable fabric of the jumpsuit, so it's a lot cleaner. I dunk my head in a bowl of water and tie it in a head wrap I bought from one of the traders at the front door a few days ago. For good measure, I grab my SMG and Assault Rifle and clip them on, then I head down. I see Jack and Larry at the bottom of the ramp that leads up to our quarters. They look none the worse for what I presume was a full day of sleeping, and Jack actually has a smile on his face, something I haven't seen since the day I met him. They're both looking much stronger, especially in the legs. Then they notice me.
"Hey Nino! You're alive!" Jack yells.
"Glad to see someone thinks so."
"Hey, are we going to dinner?" Larry asks.
"Yeah, I haven't eaten since breakfast yesterday."
"Well, it seems to me that you have a problem, and the solution is in the mess hall, so let's take your problem to the solution, shall we?"
"Again, no objection." They lead the way to the mess hall, where a new table was set up in the middle of the room with eight chairs, six on the sides and one on either end, and food already on the table. "Who's this for?"
"Us. Can you believe it? Even though we have one more day left to go, Sarah wanted to give us a little something extra, and this dinner is just for us. Everyone else already ate, man."
"Wow. This… this is incredible."
"Yeah, I know. Besides, we need it."
"No kidding. One more day, huh?"
"One more. That's right."
"I only hope we can do the same thing wherever we go in whatever we do."
I heard someone clear his throat. Mark. I wonder what insightful comment he has for us now. "Since it is Sarah Lyons putting this together, I don't think we should just stand here and stare at it."
I laughed. "Mark, as usual, you're completely right. Let's eat!"
And eat we did. Of the large amount of food that began on the table, nothing more than the contented smiles on our faces remained as we took the cans and wrappers and boxes to the trash and quietly put the table and chairs back where they came from, in the Lyons' Den. If it was the least Sarah Lyons could do to show that she thought of us as equals, it was the least we could do to show her that we appreciated it.
Citadel Front Gate: Sundown, next day
From our last two laps around, we knew that a sizable crowd was gathering at the Gate, so on my last lap on the other side of the Citadel I stopped everyone who was also on their last lap. I got us into marching order, two columns of four, and we set off at the same pace, keeping our heads up. As we came into view of the gate, we saw that the crowd had formed two lines along the path. We didn't look right or left. We kept our gaze on the finish line as we jogged in near-perfect timing. Only when the last person reached the end did we break formation and receive the congratulations of all the Brotherhood, not the least of which were the Lyons's, Squire Maxon, and Scribe Rothchild. Elder Lyons gave us our dog tags as members of the Brotherhood of Steel. I don't think that either I or my squad could ever have imagined that we would get into the history books as the first Trial Challenge winners. Heck, just two weeks ago I was stressing about the GOAT in the Vault! Look where I am now! I'm an interim member of the Brotherhood of Steel, I'm heading to New York on the largest Brotherhood expedition ever, and I have a girlfriend who is SO much hotter than Kelly Mack! I don't know how life can get any better.
Citadel Armory, Level-II: before sunrise, three days later
"I just can't believe this," said Levi. We were outfitting ourselves as we saw fit from some of the Brotherhood's better weapons, equipment, and armor. I had picked out a set of Mark-III Recon Armor, some Combat Armor, a Combat Shotgun, and a .44 Magnum to add to my existing equipment, and to complete the list of weapons I had to have. I could have picked the Chinese Assault Rifle, but it was going to be a long journey and I wanted something that I could depend on, and nothing could beat good old American engineering at that. Levi had chosen a new Sniper Rifle and an SMG for when they get too close, and decided to stick with his own Combat Armor. Jack and Larry picked out some SMGs for side arms, replaced their R91s with Chinese Assault Rifles, which I had discovered were actually AK-47s, and grabbed some Combat Armor besides. Mark, although he was competent with all Small Guns, had found that he was also good with energy weapons, and accordingly picked a Laser Rifle and Plasma Pistol for weapons, and to replace his now-torn and ragged Wasteland Clothes he got a set of Mark-III Recon Armor. Mara had gone completely stealth/ninja, with Combat Knives strapped to her upper-arms and ankles, two Silenced 10mm Pistols, an SMG for when things got loud, and a suit of Mark-III Recon Armor. I had made it mandatory for the stealth squad to get the Recon Armor and a silenced weapon. Clint upgraded his getup to a similar extent, but also grabbed an AK-47 and Combat Shotgun along with two silencers for his existing guns, ditching the sawed-off. During the week, we learned that he couldn't talk because of a bullet he had taken to the neck. It had pierced the outside of his windpipe and damaged the vocal chords beyond repair, although it didn't do much else. Chen, along with the standard Mark-III Recon Armor and S10, as he called the Silenced 10mm, he ditched his Chinese Pistol and got a Combat Shotgun and Combat Knife. With that, and tons of ammo, we were ready to go. We grabbed our packs and took our place in the marching order, namely, right behind the Wolf Pack. Instead of the Pride, who specialized in combat and destruction, the Pack, who specialized in exploration and diplomacy, would be leading us. They were every bit as good of fighters as the Pride, but were outfitted differently. The Pride used Power Armor and Plasma Rifles while the Pack used Mark-IV Recon Armor and Sniper Rifles, preferring to remain undetected. Their leader, Sentinel Dusk, is the ultimate in spec-ops and sniping. She outfitted her elite squad, which included Paladin Cross, Paladin "Macky" Mackenzie, and Knight Captains Durming, "Chris" Christopher, Longbow, and Olson. Every one of them was dressed in the Mark-IVs and carried Sniper Rifles, although their secondary weapon was a matter of choice. Cross, Durming, and Olson each carried SMGs, Christopher and Mackenzie S10s, and Longbow carried what I remembered from American History with Mr. Brotch as a "bow." It made me wonder why he was called "Longbow." When everyone was in line, the best squads in the front and the worst in the back, we set out.
"Hey Einar, take your scouts and make sure the trail ahead is clear," said Dusk.
"You got it." I was wearing my Recon Armor and I grabbed the stealth squad to come with me. We separated out from the group and jogged ahead. With our suits activated, we looked in every nook and cranny along the route. At one point there were a few Molerats, but they were taken care of by my Hunting Rifle, which I still carried to deal with vermin like these without using the more valuable ammo. Surprisingly, there was nothing else. Not a mutant, not a feral ghoul, not even a Raider to deal with. We crossed the nearest bridge in perfect safety and stayed close to the water. When we passed Rivet City, I called a halt to wait for Sentinel Dusk. As we sat there, we saw some mercs come out of a metro tunnel entrance.
They looked at us in our good gear and talked amongst themselves for a minute before walking over. They got just within firing range, and then pulled out their weapons. We barely had time to turn on our stealth fields and get out of the way before they started firing. I took out my knife and snuck around behind them. They were firing at the rock where they thought my friends were hiding behind and taking pot-shots out of. I got close to their backs and was ready to kill one of them, when I hesitated for a moment. However, it was only a moment. I slit the first one's throat. I rolled back and out of the way when the second and third started firing randomly at the air where I had been. Then their skulls splattered into goo because of two bursts of fully-automatic fire from behind the rock. We uncloaked and examined the bodies. They were wearing black Combat Armor with some pieces that seemed to please Mack, so he took them. Between the three of them, they carried one Laser Rifle and two AK-47s with good side arms.
"Talon Company," Mara said.
"You know about them?" I asked.
"Yeah, I actually used to be one of them."
"You recognize these particular guys?"
"No, they weren't there when I was." Then she searched their pockets for something. With a cry of success, she held up a piece of paper. "Here! This is the bounty they were after." She read it out loud.
Bounty: 1000 caps
Target: Brad Torino or Einar Torino
Description: Hispanic; 6'2" with shaggy black hair (Brad) and short black hair (Einar).
Note: You know the drill with Brad Torino: Dead Only. Einar Torino is his son, and may possibly be used as bait. To this end, we would prefer him alive, although dead will also do if necessary. May be associated with the Brotherhood of Steel in DC, may have companions. Unknown armament. He's fresh out of the Vault, so approach boldly.
"Wait, how many Einars can there be in DC 'fresh out of the Vault?'" asked Chen.
I sighed. "Only one. It's me."
"I thought your name was Einar Gomez," said Mara, "not Torino."
"It is, in a way. Gomez is the name of my adoptive father. I've had it ever since I can remember. Less than two weeks ago I learned who my real father is and until I find him he's no more than a name. I don't adopt names I don't know."
"So, you're the son of the Lone Wanderer. So what? There are a lot of sons out there that don't have their father's name," said Mack. "I'll judge you based on what you do, not what your dad did."
"As far as any of you are concerned, in the Brotherhood I am Einar Gomez. I don't want to have to follow in my father's footsteps and constantly be compared to him."
"Fair enough," said Mara. "Your secret's safe with us." Chen and Mack nodded in agreement.
"So our only weak link here is Clint?" I asked. We all laughed, even Clint.
I took the paper, balled it up, and threw it in the Potomac. As much as I cared, that was where the secret would stay.
About fifteen-twenty minutes later, we saw the main party coming around the bend. From here it looked more like a crowd of refugees being lead by some well-equipped mercenaries than an expedition lead by an elite unit of Brotherhood soldiers.
Dusk saw us there and called a halt for a rest when they catch up. We had disposed of the bodies, minus their weapons and ammunition and a few select parts of their armor that Mack had added to his, so they didn't suspect anything. "Any trouble?"
"Few molerats and some hostile mercs? Nope, no trouble."
"Good to hear it. Don't let your guard down even though it's pretty safe now."
"I won't. Which path do we take? Metro or surface?"
"Surface. The Metro is the most dangerous place now, but that's just because it's the only place the critters can survive."
"I'll keep that in mind." With that, I got my team back together and we set out again. We stuck near the water, which meant that we had to deal with a few Mirelurks since some isolated pools were still irradiated enough to support their population. For the most part, we made it out of DC without breaking a sweat. North of DC, we ran into open country. Few buildings dotted the Wasteland. We kept going, eventually hitting the ocean. The ocean wasn't the deep blue we had imagined it would be. Instead, it was a sickly green. We started to get close when the Geiger counter on my Pip-Boy started beeping and we had to get back. Apparently the ocean was still irradiated. At this point the sun was going down so we made camp about 100 feet from the edge of the ocean. An hour later, the main group showed up.
"What took you so long?"
"Had some trouble with Raiders. Not much, obviously, but they did hit a few of the Wastelanders. Not bad, they'll be fine."
"Ok."
"This a safe place to camp?"
"Well, judging by the lack of animal nests and raider gang within fifteen minutes of here, I'd say it's about as safe as you can get out here."
"Good enough." While she made the announcement, we started making the fire bigger courtesy of a few long-dead trees nearby. Levi, Jack, Larry, and Mark all wanted to hear about how the trip had been going, and seemed disappointed when we told them that we hadn't actually found much danger. Eventually, around our fire we had the Hurricanes, Charon (who had somehow taken a liking to me), Andrew, Elaina, Kayla, and a few members of their squads. Andrew had picked Elaina second, and, as I thought, regretted picking the big guy with the shotgun. He had traded him off to the big lieutenant for a meeker guy to serve as more-or-less a body guard as soon as he found out that the first was an A-type personality with an attitude problem and wanted to take control of the squad. The rest of his squad was a bunch of kids like him, happy-go-lucky with few guns and less training. He seemed really attached to them, although I knew that he would never make a good leader if he wasn't hard on them. I had been hard on my squad, but I had also gone through the same torture as they did. That brought us closer together, and had made us stronger. I hadn't even let up on the three days we had after that. I developed the most rigorous strength training routine the Brotherhood had ever heard of, and I did it with them. We were all looking a lot more fit and strong than we had just ten days ago. I know that you can't get strong in just three days, so I devised a shorter version of that for the road. We'd be doing that in the morning.
"Hey, how's your squad, Charon?"
"Good. It's working out really well. It seems that the "guns blazing" approach, which I like, actually works with this squad. We were actually some of the ones who shot back when those Raiders came down on us."
"Good to hear."
"Elaina, I heard you have a pretty good one, too," he said. Elaina had chosen mostly based on gender. Her squad was an all-girl one.
"Yeah, we're pretty well-rounded. Not great in anything, but not bad either. We're lacking a little in the heavy weapons division, but that's it."
"Yeah, that seems to be a pretty common thread with everyone around here," added Andrew. "Especially us. We have no heavy weapons at all."
"Who needs them? If you can't kill it with a bullet, chances are it's too slow to run," I said.
"That's the way I'm looking at it," agreed Charon. I started out with a few heavy weapons, but I traded them all for more technically-minded guys."
"That's kind of what I did," said Andrew. "I had a few big guys that I just couldn't control so I traded them to the metal head for his smaller guys."
"What's his philosophy?" asked Kayla.
"Simple: hit first, hit fast, hit hard, hit last." We turned around to see Metal Head standing right behind us. "If the bullet don't work, use a bigger one. If the bigger one don't work, use more. If more don't work, use an explosive."
"Sounds effective," I said.
"It is. It never fails. Personally I think it's better that that sneaking around you do."
"Maybe when we're talking about large amounts of enemies or large single enemies, but not when you're taking down an installation. Monkey no see, monkey no shoot."
"Bah! Let them shoot me! See if I care."
"Well, hey, if you can take a hit, more power to you. Every man is entitled to his own opinion."
"But not every opinion is right," he said. "And I'd say yours is wrong."
"If it works for the Wolf Pack it'll work for us."
"The Wolf Pack isn't as famous as the Pride, and we do what the Pride does."
"The Wolf Pack was only formed one year ago," said Charon, "and already it's surpassed the Pride in kill counts and locations cleared. I would know, I used to know the guy who started it."
"Who was that?" I asked.
"You don't know? Brad Torino. He started it as an independent wing of the Lyons' Pride, but since then it's grown. Paladin Cross' aunt, Star Paladin Cross, actually followed Brad with me and Fawks for a while until she died during Project Purity. Ever since then we've basically split up. Brad released me from my contract to him and I drifted back to Underworld for a while, then took a few odd jobs here and there for the Brotherhood before they offered to take me on this trip. Fawkes is going to meet us there, actually. He's been wandering around for a while and recently made his way to New York. He was going to move on to the Pitt soon, but when he heard I was coming with a Brotherhood expedition he decided to stay a while." Wait, this guy traveled around with my dad? Is that why he likes me, because he knows my secret?
"How did you learn that?" I asked.
"Caravans. They go everywhere."
"Wait, you actually traveled with Brad Torion?" asked Metal Head.
"I did. Best spec-ops guy I've ever seen. The guy didn't even need a Stealth-Boy to go invisible, he just wasn't seen as a threat. When he infiltrated a Raider stronghold, he dressed up like a Raider and poisoned their water source. Killed the whole lot of them without firing a shot."
"I didn't hear that side of him. I thought he was a little reckless, charging in without giving it a second thought."
"That's only when he was REALLY mad, like the time we took down Talon Company. Those dudes had been chasing them for a long time, but he finally cleaned them out so completely that not a single one escaped."
"Actually, that's not true," I said.
"Excuse me? I was there, I saw it."
"Because the mercenaries we took down on our way to Rivet City weren't just mercs. They were Talon Company, and they had a bounty for Brad Torino and his son on them."
Charon's jaw dropped. "He-he has a son? And Talon Company is back?"
"Right on both counts," I said. Well, at least he doesn't know. "How could you not know?"
"I guess he must have fathered him before I met him. That was fifteen years ago. Do you remember the name?"
"No, not really. All I know is that they want the son alive, but they won't mind him dead."
"What else did it say?" asked Andrew. He had faithfully kept the secret this whole time, even without me asking him to.
"Something about using him as a trap to catch Brad."
"Oh, this is bad. I need to go find that kid before they do," said Charon, getting up.
Oh no, he can't leave. I have to tell him, but not here. "Hey Charon, could I talk to you for a moment? There was something else on that bounty that may interest you."
"Make it quick. I need to get going." I stood up and walked away from the group. Charon, after thinking for a moment, followed. When we were far enough away from the group, I turned around. "This had better be good."
"Charon, I lied. I do remember the name of Brad's son."
"Why?"
"It's my own. Einar Torino is my name by birth. Gomez is my name by adoption."
"What?"
"You don't need to find Brad's son. You already did."
"Prove it."
"Ok. My mom got pregnant one month before she married my dad. After Butch left and Wally married Kristine Kendall, that leaves Freddie and Brad, who came back and deposed Alphonse. Conveniently, my mom admits that she wasn't a virgin before she was married, and it wasn't by rape, and it wasn't by Freddie. So, who does that leave?"
"Brad Torino," he said with a wondering aire.
"Bingo."
"So, why don't you tell everyone who you are? You might get some special treatment, maybe access to better equipment."
"Because I can't stand to live in my father's shadow for the rest of my life. I need to be recognized not as the son of the Savior of the Wasteland, but for me. I need to find my identity, and I need to be me. If I'm destined to be an officer in the Brotherhood, so be it. If I'm destined to be a wanderer in the Wasteland, so be it. But it needs to be me, my life, my future, my destiny, not my dad's."
"I understand. Ok, I'll just go ahead to New York. Do me a favor and take my squad. They need a leader, and I'm not one. I'm a follower."
"I will." I shook hands with my dad's old friend, and he departed. When I got back, people asked me where Charon had gone. The only answer I was able to give them was that he had gone to look for an old friend.
