"One-twenty-three, one- twenty-four, one-twenty-five….how much further 'till Fort Constantine? I'm sick of counting my beads of sweat for entertainment. And why the hell are we even going there? Shouldn't we let other people-"
"Tara, Tara, Tara, you don't understand. Fort Constantine has something of great value, something which the Brotherhood of Steel is willing to pay great money for. And they approached our caravan and I because we know how to find things, junk or otherwise," retorted Crazy Wolfgang.
Tara huffed, but returned to her duty of guarding the caravan. She had been in the caravan business for twelve years, long enough to know a lucrative opportunity from a wild goose chase. This, in her mind, was the latter.
"Let's just hope there's nobody else who received the same task," thought Wolfgang.
Out of the corner of her eye, Tara thought she saw a glint of sunlight refracting off of polished metal.
"Wolfie, look sharp," she whispered, "We might have company."
Crazy Wolfgang took note, and signaled for his other two caravan guards to do the same. The group continued to meander along the old, broken highway, until, without warning, three Enclave soldiers presented themselves from behind a defunct car.
"Don't move!" a short, Enclave officer holding a plasma pistol shouted, trying to seem intimidating, "By order of the Wasteland Protection and Rehabilitation act, Enclave forces are authorized to take any wasteland caravans into custody immediately. Surrender your Brahmin, weapons, and all supplies or you will face immediate imprisonment."
"Sounds more like we're being mugged," Tara muttered.
"What did you say, ingrate?" the officer yelled back, beginning to approach the caravan.
"Whoa, easy there, officer, we mean no harm! We're just taking this caravan to-"
Wolfgang then felt a swift, metallic uppercut to his jaw, and was knocked to the ground."Now, unless you want further violence, it'd be in your best interest to surrender your caravan immediately," the soldier monotonously said.
Wolfgang immediately got up from the ground, covertly pulling a grenade out of his pocket."Alright, we'll give you everything we have, just don't hurt us, alright?"
Wolfgang then proceeded to turn around, pretending to unhook the supplies off of the Brahmin. He began fiddling with some supplies until, suddenly, he pretended to fumble with something and dropped it. That 'it' was a live grenade, and it began rolling towards the Enclave trio. "Oops, let me get that," Wolfgang quipped.
"Yeah- Wait, grenade! Get out of the-"
A large explosion rocked the ground just feet in front of the caravan. The lead officer was knocked back, apparently devoid of an arm. The other two soldiers were also knocked to the ground, but began to get up mere seconds after the explosion, gripping their weapons.
"You son of a bitch, you just couldn't quietly cooperate, could you? Jackson, kill them. They aren't worth sparing any longer," the taller Enclave soldier said.
The other soldier began to approach them, motioning them to turn around. Wolfgang and his crew did so.
"Got any other tricks up your sleeve, Wolfgang?" Tara whispered.
"Dumb luck, hopefully, but nothing planned. It's been a pleasure knowing you, Tara."
"Yeah, same to you, Wolfie."
The soldier began to aim down his sights, when a loud gunshot shattered the silence. A sniper round pierced the helmet of the soldier, and sent the soldier face first to the ground.
"Oh, shit!" yelled the taller Enclave soldier, aiming down his sights towards Wolfgang.
Too late. Another shot rang out and the soldier suffered the same fate as his companion. All three soldiers appeared to be dead, and Wolfgang rose from his previous position. After a long moment of silence, Ted, one of the other caravan guards, finally broke the stillness."Alright, I wanna know what the hell just happened, man!"
"Apparently somebody either loves us, or wants the same thing those 'Clavies did," responded Wolfgang.
"On the contrary," said the crew's savior, "I actually hate those pompous assholes from the Enclave who think they own every living thing that moves."
Wolfgang spun around, facing the new stranger. He was tall, with ragged blond hair and a scruffy chin beard. In his hands he held a sniper rifle, and carried ammo and a sidearm on his belt."Alright, stranger, first of all, thank you. I'd be happy to pay you in whatever supplies we can spare. Secondly, who are you and what the hell are you doing out here?" Wolfgang said.
"The name's Sam Warrick. I've been living off the land for as long as I can remember. And you are very lucky that I came along, 'cause those 'Clavies weren't gonna spare you, that's for damn sure. As for payment, I'd be glad to take some stimpaks off your hands," Sam responded. Wolfgang nodded, reaching into his pack, giving Sam a handful of stimpaks. Sam approached Tara, still sitting on the ground, and extended a hand to her.
"And what is a fine lady like you doing in the company of a trading caravan?"
Tara blushed, and grabbed Sam's hand, pulling her up.
"Now, if I might ask, where are you headed? You've certainly deviated a bit from the main route of the caravans." Sam said, lighting up a cigarette.
"We're on a job from the Brotherhood, supposed to recover a set of codes or some such. Why, you feel like tagging along?" Wolfgang responded.
Sam thought this over for a moment before responding. "If you're willing to give me a cut of the cash, then I'm your man."
"Great, just give us a few minutes to scavenge some gear from the bodies. You're welcome to anything you find, too."
So they took about five minutes, salvaging any spare weapons and ammo they could carry. Wolfgang took the plasma rifle, while Tara and Ted scavenged the laser rifle and plasma pistol, respectively. After everyone was ready, the crew headed out to their objective, about two miles away. After a long few minutes of awkwardness, Tara spoke up.
"So, what's it like?"
Sam looked puzzled. "Whaddya mean, 'it?'
"Living off the wasteland, not knowing where you're next meal's gonna come from, that kinda thing?"
"Ah, that. I had to adjust to many things at first but I've gradually adapted to most of the… inconveniences of the wasteland. When I was forced out here about 20 years ago, I figured that I couldn't change anything about my environment or what's in it," Sam recalled "so I was forced to change myself. I read somewhere that animals have a similar method of changing, they call it adaptive radiation. Animals will sometimes change their behavior and even their appearance over many generations to counter the dangers of their environment. I figure a good survivalist is no different."
Tara was intrigued by this logic. Never before had she met someone so intelligent in the wasteland, someone who actually understands what it takes to survive.
"So what happens when you can't adapt?" Ted asked curiously.
"Same thing that happens to the weaker animals of the food chain," Sam replied "I become something, or someone, else's food."
This brought a long silence on the crew as they neared the vicinity of Fort Constantine. Wolfgang gripped his new rifle tightly, wary of another attack, which, in his mind, was imminent. Tara was still expressively swooning over Sam, stealing glances at him when she thought he wasn't looking. Sam sauntered along the road, acting completely oblivious to the dangers of Fort Constantine which lie ahead. In his mind, robots, like humans, could be easily manipulated; they only required different types of exploitation. Ted and Max were guarding the rear, keeping a vigilant eye out for any unexplained movement.
"Hey, I think that's it," Cried Tara, pointing to a large, gated perimeter about 300 yards in front of them.
"Then let's not waste any time. Ted, cover Max while he gets that gate open. Warrick, climb onto that outcropping and cover us if necessary. Tara, you're with me. Let's get in and out, lady and gentlemen, I'd like to be back in Canterbury sometime this century," ordered Wolfgang, taking the Brahmin to a nearby electrical line to tie her up.
Everyone got into position as Ted and Max began to approach the gate, ever wary of enemies. To their relief, there was no sign of hostiles within the confines of the fort.
"Alright, Max, you got this?" Ted asked.
"Yeah, yeah, just give me a second," Max hurriedly retorted.
About thirty seconds passed and the lockpicking expert was still at work. Everyone held position, with Tara and Wolfgang and flanking either side of a large rock just yards away from the gate.
"Damnit, Max, what's taking so long?" Wolfgang yelled.
"Almost… got it." Max called out, "Alright everyone, let's get inside before-"
The soft whirr of a minigun interrupted Max, coming from a now-visible sentry bot.
"Aw, shit! Get out –" Sam was too late.
The bullets tore through Max, leaving his body with many holes. He slumped to the ground. Ted appeared to be hit, but fled behind the cover of a nearby rock.
"You alright, Ted?" Tara called out.
"Yeah, it's just a flesh wound, I think," Ted yelled back, wincing in pain.
Suddenly, a loud crack emanated through the whirr of the minigun. Sam had lodged a bullet in the cranial unit of the sentry bot.
"ERROR," the sentry bot called in its monotonous voice," VISUAL OBSERVATION IMPAIRED, CANNOT CONTINUE SURVEILLANCE MISSION."
With that, the sentry bot began to move away, fleeing into the interior of the fort.
"Anyone else hurt?" Tara called out.
"I might need some Med-X, and a stimpak," Ted responded.
Tara ran over to Ted, examining the wound on his arm.
"You puss, one of the bullets just grazed your arm. You'll be fine, just keep it covered up, and you shouldn't need to waste our stimpaks." Tara scowled.
"Hey, what's your problem? I'm injured, here!"
Tara ignored Ted, instead walking over to Max. She stood over his body, crouching down to close his eyelids. Tara then did something she hadn't done since childhood: she began to cry. She had known Max ever since she came onto Wolfgang's crew, and he'd always been kind to Tara.
Wolfgang returned from the Brahmin with three shovels and a blanket.
"We should go ahead and bury Max, I'd hate to go on knowing we left his body for the roaches," Wolfgang said.
"Alright," Sam called, climbing down from his perch, "but let's make it quick, I didn't tag along to bury dead people."
Tara shot him a deathly scowl, and shouldered past him, grabbing a shovel from the Brahmin.
Wolfgang, Tara, and Sam dug for about 30 minutes until the grave was finished. They carried his mauled body into the grave, setting the blanket over his body.
"Max, you were one of the best hackers in the Capital Wasteland. But more importantly, you were a decent guy. Rest In peace, buddy." Wolfgang eulogized.
With that, the trio started to shovel the dirt back into the grave. Once finished, they met back at the gate to discuss their next move.
"Damn," Ted winced "I thought the Brotherhood said this place was empty!"
"Bastards probably lied to you. It doesn't matter now, we have to get in there and get those codes. Ted, go get a laser rifle and some ammo from the Brahmin. Everyone else, on me. Let's see if we can't find a safer route into this place," Sam ordered.
Ted ran over to the Brahmin, grabbed his weapon, and returned to the small house where the rest of the team was grouped.
"Alright, here's how it's going to work, Tara, you still have those grenades from the dead 'Clavies? Tara nodded, reached into her pocket and handed two of them to Sam. "Good, now listen up. On my count, I'm gonna toss one of these grenades into the house. It should disable anything in there, leaving us enough time to find some clues or something. Everyone ready?" The team nodded.
"Alright then, on my count. One… Two… Three!"
Sam twisted a grenade, opened the door, lobbed it inside, then quickly shut the door. The grenade emitted a large static noise, resulting in a large crash from inside. Sam crept through the door, checking room to room, until he finally found a safe in the basement labeled "TOP SECRET, UNITED STATES GOVERNMENT EYES ONLY."
"Alright, we're all clear, Wolfgang. I'm in the basement; I found something you might want to see," Sam shouted.
The other three entered the house and soon found him.
"Well, look what we have here," Wolfgang said quietly, "If I were a set of nuclear launch codes, this is most definitely where I would hide." Wolfgang proceeded to pull out a stethoscope and some bobby pins. He began fiddling with the locking mechanism of the safe, hoping that this pre-war technology was as faulty as most. After five minutes of wandering, the crew began to explore the house to find some food. They found a plethora of water (mostly irradiated), booze, and food. They took it down to the basement, beginning to eat and drink ravenously.
"Wolfie, come on, take a break for just a second, we-" Tara was interrupted.
"Got it!" Wolfgang exclaimed, "Wasn't that bad for a pre-war safe, though Max could've cracked it in half the time. Now, let's have a look inside this bad boy."
Wolfgang opened it, peering inside the dark, fresh-smelling safe.
"Alright, so far we have… a stealth boy, a scoped .44, and… hold on…" he pulled out a folder labeled "HIGHLY CLASSIFIED: OFFICIAL EYES ONLY."
"I think we might have a winner!"
"Damnit, Wolfgang, get on with it already!" Sam huffed.
"Alright, alright, let's just see what's in this thing." Wolfgang responded, opening the folder. Inside were several random jumbles of letters and numbers, each having a different set of geographical coordinates above it. Ted went over to have a look at the newfound treasure.
"Alright, I'm gonna go out on a limb and say these are our launch codes," Ted said.
"I think you're right, Ted, now let's get back to Canterbury before nightfall. Today's Thursday, and Joe Porter cooks up a delicious Mole Rat Stew on Thursdays. "
The team ascended the stairs, and then waited at the door. Sam carefully opened it, scanning the vicinity for any other hostiles. He found none, and signaled the ok. They ran back through the gate all the way to Nessie, the Brahmin, who was surprisingly unfazed. Wolfgang untied her, then made sure all of their supplies were still present and intact. Once he was done, the crew set out for Canterbury.
"Good work, everyone. We'll get back to Canterbury around ten tonight, barring any encounters with our friends in the Enclave, of course, then head to the Citadel in D.C. First round of drinks is on me tonight," Wolfgang said with a noticeable hint of fatigue. Everyone (minus Sam, of course) was tired from the long journey up, and they were glad to be headed home.
Well, that concludes the first chapter. Love the first chapter? Hate it with a fiery passion? Or just indifferent? Well shoot a review my way so I know what to do differently!
You may have also noticed a few discrepancies in my story in relation to the game itself. First of all, Crazy Wolfgang, along with other traders, have multiple mercenary guards to assist them. Also, Sam Warrick is friendly (at least for now) and deeply philosophical. Tara and Ted have no affiliation with the Tara and Ted Strayer, who were both involved in You Gotta Shoot 'Em in the Head!, a quest in Fallout 3. Now that that's all cleared up, I'm looking forward to writing another solid chapter.