CONNOR KIRKBRIDE BRENDAN SAWYER SHAUN MORSE

IN THE MIDST

A FALLOUT STORY

CHAPTER ONE

8:48PM, WEDNESDAY MAY 7TH, 2282, NOVAC, MOJAVE WASTELAND

Sand and dust got blown through the air the same as any other day, with the occasional tumbleweed making its pass through the streets. Novac, the small rural town in the Mojave notorious for its dinosaur statue and being named after a 'No Vacancy' sign that had been busted a long time. This town is where people come to settle, work, pass their time and it was a good place to stop for a night while on the road. If you could put up with the sometimes unreasonable prices for motel rooms, Ada Straus' prices for sometimes sloppy medical work and the man named No Bark and his crazy sayings, then you could settle in this town. It was constantly protected by two former NCR sniper's, Craig Boone and Manny Vargas, who switched shift during day and night to keep the town safe from anything from Feral Ghouls to Golden Geckos. This town had been a lot more cautious after the former Motel owner Jeannie May Crawford was killed by Ghouls just in front of the statue. Her prices were ridiculous at times but she was the town Mom and kept the peace if trouble ever arose. Since then Andy, the half crippled former NCR Ranger, kept the peace in town, which was fine with most, especially Boone and Manny. Peaceful but for others, like Connor Kirkbride, the former NCR medic, it was just a place at the end of the world to live in self-exile. Connor had been a medic in the New California Republic for six years before being dishonorably discharged for deserting his battalion during a large showdown with the Legion at Camp Golf a year before. He and his team were as good as dead but Connor decided that he'd rather run than be crucified, an option any sane and rational human being would've chose, nobody in the Mojave wanted to be crucified by the Legion. Strung up on crosses and left to die, and it took a long time to at that. Connor's battalion were either dead or dying when he made his escape by plunging into Lake Las Vegas and swimming out the other side before making a run for it over the hills until he reached the 188 Trading Outpost. When he arrived there he managed to contact his superiors at Camp McCarran. Three days later he was thrown out of McCarren with his duffel bag filled and told if he was to come back he would be imprisoned for life. Connor then made his way across the Mojave before he finally got to Novac where he now spends his time doing only two things; working and drinking. He works part time at the Dino Bite Gift Shop to mostly fulfill his drinking habits, earning his caps to buy alcohol from passing merchants daily. Connor had not agreed with the NCR's decision on him but while he did accept that what he did during the Camp Golf attack was not wrong, he did regret it. The NCR were a faction built on protecting the innocents of the Mojave, and what he had done went completely against that. Due to this Connor was incredibly loathsome of himself, drinking to forget and feel better about himself, even if that just meant forgetting who he was for an entire night. He wore casual pre-war clothes as they were called but carried his badge from his NCR uniform with him everywhere. Connor had made friends with Boone and Manny due to him also being from the NCR, but made a stronger connection with Boone who had also descended into self-hatred for his own reasons.

"You never miss, huh?" Connor asked.

"No, at least not very often" Boone answered.

"I can't believe I spent six years in the republic but never came across you." The former medic stated.

"The idea of the 1st Recon units were that we were never seen, that probably had something to do with it." Boone mumbled.

"I guess that's the problem with being a medic, you're always right in plain sight for the fucking enemy." Connor grunted.

"Medics are there to make sure the other soldiers are able to keep fighting because most medics are useless." Boone replied.

"No offence."

"None taken, I proved my uselessness when I ran from Camp Golf instead of fighting. I could've been captured, crucified, enslaved or died fighting, but I ran." The ex-medic stated, either to Boone directly or to himself, unclear which.

"I don't blame people for running, but if I had the chance to keep killing Legionaries, I'd have took it, but then again my hatred for those cunts goes way deeper than yours." Boone said calmly.

Connor listened to Boone, both men were sitting side by side in the medical tent just at the entrance of town, Ada would let them sit in there and drink until Boones next shift. Rum, Whiskey and Scotch were all they drank. Connor finished another full glass of scotch before reaching to pour out another.

"Would you believe I was saved by a legionary?" Connor asked, tipsy.

"I wouldn't care if you were, it doesn't change who they are." Boone replied.

"I know, and it didn't change my view on them, but it changed my view on this one member." Connor stated bluntly to the 1st Recon beret.

Boone looked in Connor's direction, but even at dusk Boone wore his sunglasses, so Connor couldn't really tell if he was looking at him or not, but didn't care.

"Was about a week before what went down at Camp Golf, me and my battalion had captured three legionary fucks on the road towards Primm after they tried to take us down. We injured all three of 'em, one looked pretty fucking bad. We cuffed them up and told them they were coming with us, back to Mojave Outpost, but that ain't what happened. On the road there, at some Highway Patrol Station, a group of five raiders ambushed us. There was three of us, the three injured Crimson's and now five raiders, we weren't a force to be reckoned with at the time so one of my team was dead pretty quick, bullet to the head, point blank from behind, his head and brain went everywhere. We tried to fight 'em off but during the crossfire, I took one in the left arm clean while my other buddy managed to take another two of the raiding fucks down with his Repeater but it wasn't enough, he and two of the injured Legions were beaten in the head with tire irons and I was sure I was next. But then, the third Crimson, I don't understand how but his cuffs were off and he tackled me to the floor. At first I thought he was attacking me so I tried to fight him off as you would fucking do but before I knew it he was off me and had taken my 9mm. He took down another two raider with clean shots to the faces. He'd gotten me out of the way of a bullet. Only one raider was there afterwards, on his knees begging, but after they killed my two buddies I wasn't gonna let this Legion member who had just saved my ass take all the glory. So I took back my 9mm and shot the last guy dead, I remember the way the bullet hit him in the eye, turned it into a bloody, gooey black hole." Connor rambled grimly for minutes on end.

Boone just listened, the 1st Recon sniper had been through more shit than anyone else in Novac, Manny Vargas included, but listening to Connor's story really hit him clearly. Maybe it was the way Connor told a story, or maybe he was stunned to find out that a Legion member had saved an NCR medic during an ambush.

"What'd you do then?" Boone asked, clearly entranced by the tale.

"I cuffed him back up and kept on pushing him to Mojave Outpost, all the way there thoughts went through my head back and forth like the times I chose which girl to fuck at Gomorrah. But by the time we were at the bottom of the bank, looking up at the statue, we could see another small squad sent my Ranger Jackson, probably heard the gunfire from what had happened. Before they could make us out I uncuffed him. I told him fair is fair and that he better get outer the area fast. He knew my surname, since it was sewed on my uniform. So long Kirkbride he said to me, so I asked him his name, this isn't any romantic story shit, this is a man who just saved my fucking life. I told him happy trails and before I knew it he was way in the distance heading through Nipton. I explained what had happened at the Patrol Station to Jackson's squad and we gave the guys a proper burial, but burned the dead legion bodies and left the raiders to be eaten by whatever the fuck. I still wonder now where that crimson member ended up, or why exactly he saved my ass when he did. I hope I get to know." Connor finished his tale before finishing his glass of scotch.

"It's not good to wonder, it kills you slowly." Boone stated whilst getting up off his seat, his shift for the night just starting.

"Especially not about crimson's who have a temporary change of heart."

"Wondering is what's keeping me alive Boone, nothing else do I have." Connor smirked while pouring another glass.

Boone looked at him for a moment in silence.

"What was his name, the legion member?" Boone asked.

Connor immediately drank the glass that he just poured, gritted his teeth as it burned his throat and made a grunt.

"Sawyer."