Hello, this is my third attempt at writing an... acceptable, Fallout fiction. The first two had much the same story, but this will take quite a different turn. Hope you enjoy and if not, I don't know, I hate you or something.
Give me any criticisms or suggestions you may have.
Chapter 1: Out of retirement
The sun shone through the spider web cracks in the window, illuminating the somewhat stuffy and barely standing court house. The warm Mojave day had been getting to everyone, most people in the jury and viewing rows were wearing pre-war shirts with handkerchiefs to wipe themselves clean of the sweat and humidity, though most had their attention focused sorely on the trial at hand.
"Ethan James Kane, you stand accused of the destruction to more than half of the New Vegas Marines, how do you plead?" the old grizzled Judge asked, clearly wishing he could sentence the man on trial to immediate execution, but the Council had made it clear that they wanted him to be kept alive convicted or not.
For his part the man did not speak, instead looking at the judge and jury with indifference, thinking of when he used to command these people. The man on trial was once a legendary figure, the leader of the entire Mojave wasteland to be exact. His hair was white and his eyes pink from albinism, for attire he wore a standard black suit with a white untucked shirt. The man simply looked at the floor, his face still showing no emotion.
"You do realize that by not answering you will have no case and will be immediately sentenced to life in the New Vegas Correctional facility?" the Judge said, annoyed at the former leaders silence.
"I'm fully aware of my predicament," Kane began, "but given the immeasurable odds placed against me by the people, the "council", and the law..." he paused slightly, "there is no need for a defense."
The Judge pondered for a moment then banged his gavel against the weathered wood of the semi-standing court house, "Ethan Kane. This court finds you guilty of the slaughter of seven hundred innocent men and women of the Marines. I hereby sentence you to life at the correctional facility. May god have mercy on your soul..."
July 8th, 2293 - New Vegas penitentiary
The bustling canteen radiated with cliques of prisoners forming their own corners and preying on anyone smaller or weaker looking than them, although for the penitentiary's standards it was quite calm. Only a few fights had broken out and no serious injuries had happened, at least not yet.
A bleak and bitter looking man sat at the cafeteria desk staring at his untouched food, various inmates chatting and yelling around him with guards trying to keep the peace.
Most inmates were made of killers, thieves, and former powder gangers that Kane had helped put away some time ago, which made the irony of being a criminal like them all the more bitter.
"Hey, Courier," a gruff voice from behind Kane, "you've been a bitch to get a hold of, even with five years here, you scared of me or somethin?" the voice said with a laugh, mockingly tapping Kane on the side of the head.
"You too dumb to speak?" he said, forcing Kane to face him, "you ignoring me fuckhead? I will beat you to within an inch of your life!" he said as a small crowd began to form around the two men, a few others joined to back up their friend. The guards hadn't bothered to do anything, believing that, if no knives or weapons were drawn, it would be a good way to allow the prisoners to let off steam.
"Fighting you would prove nothing. Besides, I've scraped shit off my boot more threatening than you," Kane said, looking the inmate up and down, clearly unimpressed.
With that the inmate heard enough and lunged for Kane, his arm outstretched and ready to take his head off with one well placed punch. Kane however saw it coming. With years of experience and Big MT cybernetics on his side he was able to effortlessly dodge the blow, sending the surprised inmate tumbling in a heap.
The Inmate's friends began to try and take the Courier down. One ran at him but was caught with a swift knee to the stomach, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing violently to the floor. Another tried taking him by surprise, but the Courier ducked and flipped him over by the arm making him land on top of his friend.
The Prisoner who had started all of this regained his composure and caught the Courier off guard with a swift cheap shot to the face, but to his astonishment the Courier barely moved, simply putting his hand up to his cheek. With a tap and nod of acknowledgement, he kicked the Inmate in the jaw smashing his teeth together and sending him flying at the cheering crowd who were more than happy to see an actual ass kicking for once.
However, Kane's new found fame would be short lived as he was quickly sent to the floor by a shearing pain in his back as the Guard's stun gun took full effect, making Kane fall to the floor and then slip unconscious.
New Vegas Penitentiary - Interrogation Room
The room was dark and humid from the harshly hot Mojave weather. Adding to the bleak depressing scenery were dried stains of blood adorning the walls and floor, most likely the results of several botched interrogations and beatings.
The metal baton was brought upon Kane's bare ribs, once more causing him to cough up some blood not being able to shield himself in any way due to the restraints that held him against the wall.
"Saito!" a commanding voice called as the door opened, bringing some light into the dark dingy room, "you need to pace yourself, we can't afford to lose another one, the media will have a field day," he looked at Kane's bruised body and scoffed "and besides, This bastard deserves the longest time possible."
Saito growled and delivered one final strike against Kane's head before throwing away the baton, he walked out of the room leaving only the Warden and Kane.
"You, amazingly, have a visitor." The Warden said, giving him one more glance before walking out and leaving the Courier alone with his thoughts.
Kane looked down and struggled to breath in, the act of doing so causing him immense pain. He looked down as far as his restraints would allow to see the small pool of crimson liquid that had amassed at his feet.
"Ethan J. Kane... Never did I think I'd meet you alive," a smartly dressed figure said. An emblem of the Council on the left side of his suit's collar that read:
No gods, no masters, only man.
Kane looked up to face this man, wondering what he could possibly want since the council had buried his name and legacy the second he was incarcerated.
"Well, you did. Would you like a medal?" Kane responded with annoyance, thinking this lackey should be thankful he was restrained to a wall.
"No," The Messenger chuckled, "they aren't giving them away THAT easily." he said, pulling a piece of paper out from his jacket pocket.
"As a matter of fact, you have been granted a very... unique opportunity to integrate with society once more," The Messenger folded the piece of paper in his hands, "luckily for you, we've spared you from being another 'cover up'. If you will please follow me to your cell, we'll discuss more there." The Messenger said as two guards came to undo Kane's bonds and escort him back to his cage.
Kane's Cell
The setting Mojave sun shone faintly through the bars of Kane's cell, the only light source aside from the hall lights that were shut off near ten 'o clock. Kane had much time to examine and learn his cell, and eventually it was as familiar to him as his now confiscated pip-boy, a fact that annoyed him greatly.
"So, here's our proposition, " The Messenger began, "The Council has been under fire by the people of the Mojave due to the growing Resistance movement that has been attacking our army's supply caravans, destroying any of our campaign posters, and interrupting speeches among... other things."
"Am I supposed to give a shit?" Kain asked, his hands still cuffed together to keep him from attacking the messenger, "I'm not surprised you have a resistance on your hands. Maybe it's because of your dictatorship like rules and your treatments of anything not human." Kane added.
"Perhaps, but it is a necessary evil," The Messenger responded calm and businesslike, "we haven't been able to get rid of them due to their changing bases and guerrilla warfare tactics." He unfolded the paper in his hand, "We have however been able to identify their leader, a man you know quite well. All you have to do is kill him and we will release you from incarceration. You will then be free to walk the wastes once more with no repercussions on your past."
He handed the paper to Kane who barely managed to hold it thanks to his bonds.
It was a photo taken with a Codac R9000 of the resistance leader.
Craig Boone.