Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout 3 or Fallout: New Vegas.
An Illustration of Principle: Part 1
[Warrington Station]
"Tenpenny didn't build that place! He just took it over!" raged Roy Phillips.
Standing in front of the ghoul, listening to him rave, Marcus could see why Chief Gustavo had been concerned. Marcus had heard this kind of whining before, but he hadn't expected to come across it out here in the Wasteland.
He could feel Charon at his side tense when his hand twitched. Roy didn't notice. Marcus knew that Charon was preparing to draw his shotgun and unleash hell on Roy and his followers. What Charon was thinking, Marcus didn't know; but with the contract, he would at least be able to explain to Charon later what he was planning to do.
"So?" he queried the raving ghoul. The question had the obvious effect of stopping his tirade. The shell-shocked expression on Roy's face clearly indicating that no one had asked him this question.
"W-what do you mean, so?" he thundered, "He didn't build it! It's not his! Why should he be allowed to keep us out?"
Staring at the angry ghoul, Marcus posed the question that had been needling him ever since Michael Masters had hinted at his age. "Roy, how old are you?"
The rage gave way to confusion, but Marcus didn't expect it to stay gone. "What the hell does that matter?"
"Just answer the question."
Roy stared at him suspiciously. Marcus had the distinct impression that the other two ghouls, and any other lucid ghouls that Roy had been in contact with, hadn't questioned him much. "I'm 235. Why does that matter?"
"And how old is Tenpenny?"
"...I dunno. Maybe 80?" Roy hadn't picked up on the thrust of his line of questioning. From the blank look on her face, neither had Bessie Lynn.
"And how long has Tenpenny Tower been standing?"
"Fuck if I know. Before the War, at least. They built it before I was born."
Amazingly, Roy still didn't catch the reasoning. 'Maybe his mind is more degenerated than I thought...?'
"So why, exactly, didn't you go and set yourself up in the Tower? It's only been about thirty years since Tenpenny took it over. You had most of two centuries to take it over yourself. Why didn't you?"
Roy looked like he'd been walloped with a frying pan. So did Bessie.
A few minutes of silence passed. The ghoul didn't say anything, but the wheels were clearing turning in his mind, trying to think of an answer to Marcus's question. "...Because I... I didn't know that it could be done! A-and anyway... why does it matter why I didn't do it?"
Roy's bluster was unimpressive, even to Bessie. But it had been a rhetorical question, anyway. Marcus already knew what his answer was going to be, even if Roy didn't, and he guess that Charon was ready to start shooting.
"Last question, Roy. Tell me, if you can. Just how, exactly, does your need for shelter constitute an obligation on Tenpenny's part? For that matter, how does it justify you taking the Tower by force?"
As the gears in Roy's mind turned wildly, trying to find the answer to a question he'd obviously never considered, Michael Masters chose this moment to walk in from his sentry duty. He'd expected the human to quickly anger Roy, and get shot, so he was curious as to the lack of gunfire.
Stunned as he was, Roy didn't catch Marcus's movement in time. Bessie, who was focused on Roy, couldn't have done anything if she had. And though Michael was expecting violence, Charon was faster. Roy's mind was still chugging away when the 10 millimeter round tore through his skull. The second round destroyed what was left of Bessie Lynn's beauty. Charon's buckshot shell nearly tore Michael in half.
And as quickly as the violence had come, it was over. Marcus holstered his pistol, and without a word, set off for the tunnel entrance. After a moment, Charon followed.
Outside, Marcus turned to Charon. "...Do I need to explain why I decided to kill them?"
"You have no obligation to explain yourself to me."
Marcus sighed. "So you say. But that isn't what I meant. Did you understand why I killed them?"
"...Yes. Roy sought to take what wasn't his, by force, when he could have had it at any time until after they took it."
"Close. That was one reason." A vague impression of curiosity on Charon's otherwise inexpressive face bade him to go on. "The more important reason was that Roy felt that his need for shelter meant that someone who had it owed it to him. That he had an unearned right, and they an unearned obligation to supply his right. That's the sort of reasoning that justifies slavery."
Charon held his gaze a long moment. "...You have directed me to speak my mind, when I have something to share."
Now Marcus had the curious face. "I have. Any insight you have is potentially valuable."
"There are rumors that Tenpenny himself is a slaver."
More silence. "If that's the case, I may find myself killing him as well. But that wouldn't justify Roy. Nor does it justify what Roy planned for the other residents. Even if they were slavers before, they clearly aren't now, and until and unless I can determine that they are guilty, and unrepentant, what justification could I have for killing them? I could have refused to get involved. But once I heard Roy speak, the refusal to execute him would have meant that they would all die."
A long silence now. It stretched on, testing Marcus's patience. Finally, Charon's gravelly voice agreed, "I understand."
"...Good. Now lets go get paid."
Author's Notes: Not sure if anyone is still following my stories, though I do occasionally get favorite'd by new readers. Wrote this in about an hour.
I have two more chapters planned. The third chapter is set in New Vegas, so if you haven't played, avoid it until you do, as it will contain spoilers.
What principle did I mean?... Some of you will get it without my explanation. For the rest of you, you'll have to wait until the last chapter. I'll explain then.