The Ghosts of a Wanderer Rewrite

by ArizonaRanger057

James 'The Wanderer' Hardigan was known for many things, from destroying slaver camps and disarming the megaton bomb to saving the NCR from certain destruction and putting one between the eyes of Ceasar himself. But what adventures will this new world hold for him? "What do you mean there won't be a mini-bar? I can't save the world without a fucking mini-bar!" (TTW Character)

1. Chapter 1

What up it's ya boy, and I'm back at it with a Re-Write of my first ever story, 'The Ghosts of a Wanderer'!

That's right, I'll be taking this mess of loosely connected plot points and shitty grammar and Re-Creating it into something that won't haunt my nightmares!

For real though, this story hurts for me to look at so I'm gonna get this shit done, don't forget to follow, and drop a fav and a review, because reviews get me to write instead of drink!

I own nothing, if I did, then Lancaster would be a thing, and the Lone Wanderer would have shoved a shotgun so far up Salem's ass she'd be shitting pellets.

Oh, and did I forget to mention this story will be rated M?

"Talking"

'Thoughts'

*Radio/Holotapes*

[Computer/Pip-Boy/Notes]

-=-=-=Locations=-=-=-

The Ghosts of a Wanderer - Chapter 1

James 'The Wanderer' Hardigan had experienced a many of things in his life as a wanderer, He'd been drugged by tree people, abducted by aliens, and punched a talking computer in the face just to name a few.

However, all of those experiences paled in comparison to the fucked up shit James was in for now.

James jolted awake in a wince of pain, his head slumped over the steering wheel of the Humvee he had been driving not five minutes earlier. With a small groan, James sat up and practically jumped out of his skin.

Not two feet from his face lay an unmoving hulking mass of black, white and red.

"Oh, shit did I do that?" James whispered to himself with a groan before opening his door with a creak and unceremoniously falling out of the vehicle with a loud curse.

'Okay legs why the fuck did you not work?' The wanderer thought to himself in annoyance, a quick glance to said legs answered his question pretty quickly.

'Oh, it's because they're broken.' James thought to himself with a chuckled as he studied the red-stained bone protruding from his shins.

Then it hit him.

"OH SHIT MY LEGS!" James cried out in pain, His hands shooting for his med pouch and plunging the needle of a Stimpak into his chest with a hiss.

Before long, the miracle liquid went to work, leaving James to let out a heavy sigh of relief as his bones were reset and the holes in his shins were healed over.

A couple of seconds later and James stood up, leaving the wanderer with a pair of aching legs and a number of issues to resolve.

First of all was the hulking mass of bullshit laying on the hood of his Humvee.

Clearly, whatever this pile of bullshit was, it was dead, but if James's time in the wasteland taught him anything, It was that you could never be too sure.

The Wanderer wordlessly brought up his Pip-Boy, eyes glancing over the screen as his mouth formed a frown.

[ERROR - CANNOT FIND ROBCO OR VAULT-TECH SATELLITES - PLEASE CALL SERVICE CENTER FOR ASSISTANCE AT 1-800-VAULT-TECH - ERROR]

'Well fuck you too then.' James thought to himself before closing out the pop-up and dematerializing his most cherished weapon.

With a flash of blue light, Hardigan felt the familiar and comforting grip of his 10mm Pistol. The weapon had been given to him by his childhood friend Amata, and he never left home without it.

Shifting his focus to the hulking black and white mass on the hood of his wrecked vehicle. James sauntered over and unceremoniously shoved the end of the handgun into the unarmored temple of the creature.

With a loud bang, the slug found it's new home, splattering the creature's skull and letting wisps of black blood and brain matter flow freely onto the hood of the armored vehicle.

Now with one problem solved, next on the list was to fill the eerily quiet air with some good old-fashioned music, James's eyes were brought back to his Pip-Boy but paused as he furrowed his brow at a strange message that popped up on the dull blue screen.

Again.

[ERROR - CANNOT FIND ROBCO OR VAULT-TECH SATELLITES - PLEASE CALL SERVICE CENTER FOR ASSISTANCE AT 1-800-VAULT-TECH - ERROR]

"Okay now you're just trying to piss me off," James said quietly to himself, narrowing his eyes in curiosity. He dismissed the error and flipped to the Radio tab, only to find a single radio signal.

"Vale News Radio? What the hell is a Vale? Is it some sort of bird or some shit?" he asked himself in confusion, before sitting down in the driver seat of his Humvee, his legs handing out as he selected the signal.

It sounded awfully familiar to a certain DJ's radio station back in the DC ruins.

*Heyyy Vale! it's me. DJ Dogg, your favorite disk jockey in all the world! I'm here with a bit of news for all ya'll. First off, It seems it's that time of year again, as large congregations of colorful and armed teenagers are boarding airships this afternoon at the Vale International Airport on their way to Beacon Academy, yup that's right boys and girls, Schools in session! Anywho, let's get onto some other news, newer news. Cooler news, the headline? The End is Nigh?! Last week we had a caller-*

The Wanderer quickly deselected the station.

"Its Galaxy New Radio all over again." He whimpered in between sobs.

'What did I do to deserve this' James thought to himself before clicking to the misc category in his Pip-Boy and selecting a blue holotape labeled 'Old World Blues - The Best Of 2077'.

Early in his journeys, he'd gotten so tired of Three Dogs voice that he'd spent a little over ten thousand caps just so he could listen to some good music without that man's god awful voice interrupting it.

*I Don't want to set the world on fire~*

James immediately smiled and stood up from the Humvee with renewed vigor, this was his favorite song to scavenge too, and for whatever reason, he always found the best stuff when it was playing.

The Wanderer inspected the Humvee, his lips set in a thin line. The front end of the heavy armored truck was bent inwards a bit, and the front windscreen was completely broken.

After an experimental flip of the vehicles ignition switch, James sighed heavily, if the truck wouldn't start than he'd have to strip it of anything useful and note the location on his map.

It didn't take long to search the vehicle and after about five minutes, everything was neatly organized into a pile in front of him.

A quick glance at the pile and James knew exactly what he was working with. Two laser rifles, four boxes of miscellaneous ammo, and a handful of plasma grenades were enveloped in a bright blue flash and stored by his Pip-Boy.

Honestly, when Stanley had taught him how to change the color of his Pip-Boy in setting he'd essentially cried and latched onto the poor guy for ten minutes straight 'Damn that default green fucking hurt my eyes,' Hardigan thought to himself before shaking his head, he didn't usually get off track like this.

"Well I guess it's back to Walking" James whispered to himself, nodding his head in approval, it had been a long time since he had flown solo and he was going to lie, he pretty excited.

His surroundings looked new, but they also looked insanely dull, 'why does every ruin have to be so grey?', it almost felt like when he first wandered into the heart of the DC Ruins, but somehow this place felt shittier.

'Speaking of shitty ruins, these ones have eyes.' James thought to himself, he was being watched and he knew it, he just didn't know from where. It was as if inside every shadow was a pair of eyes studying him, it was unnerving.

'This place is freaking me the fuck out man, I don't know what it is, but I don't like it.' James thought to himself as his feet crunched against broken glass and small pieces of rubble.

A second later something rounded the corner down the road from him, and James swore if he didn't have a robot heart he'd have had a heart attack.

The Wanderer didn't normally have this reaction, in the wasteland, it was almost as if he could sense if there was anyone or anything dangerous nearby, but he couldn't felt this thing.

It looked a lot like a Deathclaw, only a little shorter, and without the horns or the foot long claws of their namesake. It was also covered in pitch black fur, white and red plates, and spikes. Its eyes glowed a bright crimson as they set their sights on the Lone Wanderer.

The creature spotted James, and let out a howl reminiscent of a Deathclaw Matriarch calling her pack, so it wasn't much of a surprise when a small hoard of creatures climbed out of every shadowed place surrounding him.

All of the creatures looked exactly the same as the first one, the only difference being a couple of feet, and a far less of a death metal vibe judging by the smaller number of spikes on their backs. All of the said creatures started advancing on The Wanderer's possession, encircling him, and giving off short howls and snarls.

Not a single one came within a couple of meters of him, leaving a gap in front of him for the larger creature of the group to advance forward and close the gap, 'most likely the alpha' James thought, eyes still gazing intently at it, for a few moments the large creature and James were just standing still, staring at each other. The large black and white creature slowly kited the opposite side of the writhing black ring.

James clicked a button on his Pip-Boy and was enveloped in a bright blue flash, temporarily blinding the black and white creatures.

It didn't take long for the creatures to recover, however, their previous prey had disappeared and was replaced with a towering set of dented Winterized T-51b Power Armor, the 'T' shaped visor of the armor looked at the creatures before unsheathing a long serrated blade that arched with electricity.

Almost as if an invisible bell had rung, the creature bolted toward him, brandishing short but razor sharp looking claws. James sidestepped to the left and capitalized on an opening in the creature's defense by slashed the unarmored side of the creature. Causing it to let out a howl of pain in response, its muscles tightening and the creature lost its balance.

Quickly righting itself with a growl, the creature spun around with a wide horizontal slash that was easily dodged. James countered with a quick punch, the white bone mask covering the creatures face cracking to bits, causing bone fragments to pop both of its eyes like big red grapes.

Now holding its face and writhing in pain on the ground James moved to finish the fight.

"Clearly I overestimated you," he says walking closer to the creature until he was almost face to visor with the whimpering mass of black, white, and red. The creature sent out a weak swipe attempting to take The Wanderer with it. Only for it to be easily swatted away.

"Ya know, I honestly thought you would give me a decent challenge with your size, and all the spikes and shit," he said loudly, trying and succeeding to intimidate the creatures around him.

Far above the fight, if it could even be called that, hovered a drone, the small camera watching from above with muted interest.

-=-=-=Beacon Academy - Headmaster Ozpin's Office=-=-=-

"Are you sure we shouldn't send someone to investigate Headmaster?" said a blond woman holding a riding crop and a large scroll, the live feed from one of Beacon's many security drones played across the screen with what looked like one of the original prototypes of an Atlesian Knight utterly destroying a pack of Beowulfs in a destroyed intersection of Mt. Glenn.

"I contacted James, and he says he has no knowledge of any Atlesian personnel in the Vale area, however, you and I both know how James loves to play spy." Ozpin sighed, taking a long sip from his mug before speaking again, "I want to know what this thing is, and I want to know before sundown Glenda, do you understand?"

Glynda nodded as Ozpin took another sip from his ever-present mug, 'I have a feeling the plan will need some adjustments soon.'

-=-=-=Bullhead en route to Mt. Glenn - Ten Minutes Later=-=-=-

"Ma'am, we will be landing soon, are you sure you want us to guard the bullhead, I can send Johnson with you at least." Spoke a deep voice over the Bullhead's comm system.

The voice belonged to none other than First Sergeant Jim McCoy, the former Atlesian Special Forces Officer turned Head of Beacon Security, he was a tall man with broad shoulders with salt and pepper hair. His white and red armor painted with yellow accents denoting his as a member of Beacon's security, along with the Beacon Academy emblem on his patrol cap.

"Do not worry Sergeant, I will be fine, just be sure to set up a perimeter and keep the Bullhead safe," Glenda replied as the Bullhead lurched forward as it's landing struts made contact with the ground of a destroyed intersection. Burnt out cars, knocked over streetlights and the occasional skeleton remained a grim reminder of the failure of Mt. Glenn.

"If you insist Ma'am, just be quick, the pilot said the landing might have attracted a few Goliaths," McCoy said, pulling his assault rifle from his back as his squad disembarked and began setting up defensive positions as Glynda began walking towards the strange machine making its way through Mt. Glenn

-=-=-=Mt. Glenn=-=-=-

James was having a bad day, he thought that maybe, just maybe, the first set of creatures he'd fought would be it for a while so he could get his bearings and form a plan, but no, instead he'd been constantly assaulted by wave after wave of retarded kittens covered in cardboard armor.

'Honestly, you'd think they'd be a bit tougher with all the spikes and shit, James thought to himself as he decapitated another one of the Deathclaw lookalikes. Any time they were successful in hitting him, it would always either glance off his armor or add shallow scratch.

"Jesus, you guys are pathetic, I know super mutants with more brains than you," James said with a chuckle before flicking his wrist and slicing into the final creature of the current wave.

'I've got roughly thirty seconds.' He thought to himself, before going into a more relaxed posture. James looked around to look whatever he could from his kills only to find his first kill dissolving into the air, along with a few of the other creatures.

"Holy shit, the brains at Big MT. would LOVE this I gotta get some before-" the distinct sound of rifle fire quickly distracted James, causing him to lose his train of thought and look in the direction the sounds came from.

"Ooo, Sounds kinda like a laser rifle, let's go and visit, maybe I can get some loot, maybe a new gun, heh, that would be cool," James said, breaking out into a sprint in the direction of the gunfire. Mind running though schematic ideas of what a laser assault rifle would look like.

'Oooo, maybe I can make, like, a plasma assault rifle, or, or a plasma ROCKET LAUNCHER!' The Wanderer thought to himself while running, completely oblivious to the wall he was barreling towards.

James was slammed from his train of thought by crashing through a decaying and bullet-riddled wall, his power armor having gained enough momentum to break a man-sized hole, but also so much so that he couldn't stop himself before he tripped and fell faceplate first into the cracked asphalt.

James just stayed that way, contemplating his life and the decisions he made to get where he was today. That was until he heard the telltale sound charging handles being locked into place. 'well, Shit.' was all the wanderer could think.

"Drop your weapon and put your hands on your head." a strong voice yell in a tone that commanded respect. It reminded James of Paladin Gunny, The Citadels resident training officer.

"Hey there Buddy, calm down, no need to make any hasty assumptions, I just heard gunfire and though somebody could use a hand, that's all." James lied hoisting himself up into a standing position, he dwarfed the five men in front of him, all of them in the same pristine white combat armor with yellow accents with their rifles all trained on him.

'Organized and clean, this will be interesting.' James thought to himself. His eyes finally resting on a significantly taller individual, the man was still a head shorter than James's suit of Power Armor with salt and pepper hair and a scar running down his left eye. A familiar but different patrol cap sat atop his head denoting him as the leader of the small troop of unknown men.

"The names James Hardigan, it's nice to meetcha," James said simply, sticking his hand out for the tall man to shake.

The man hesitated a moment while taking in every detail of the newcomer he could. A large suite of heavy battle hardened white armor, dents and scratches pocketed the plates and made his armor look fresh out of the factory.

The armor's helmet had a thin dark 'T' shaped visor, along with various tubes and filters protruding out of the helmets 'mouth'. The armor had a four leaf clover with crossed cutlasses stenciled of the right side of the breastplate with the words 'Reilly's Rangers' written underneath.

"McCoy, First Sergeant Jim McCoy, nice to meet y-" Jim's hand was suddenly grabbed and forcefully yanked towards the hulking mass of white armor before he was put into a rather tight chokehold, as a large and blocky handgun was pressed up against McCoy's temple. Surprising the other soldiers present and causing them to raise their weapons up again in a flash.

"What, you think you Enclave sons of bitches can trick me?" James snarled, hate and anger in his voice, his mind was racing as he racked his brain for an escape.

"Enclave? Buddy, you're making no sense, we are Beacon's Private Security, we don't even know what the hell this 'Enclave' is man. Just let the Sarge go and we can talk this out." one of the men in front of him said calmly before lowering his rifle slowly, "Just let the sarge go man."

"You give me a good reason right now not to blast your 'Sarge's' head off right now." James snarled again while taking a step backward and shoving the barrel of his 10mm into McCoy's temple again.

"I don't think that will be necessary Mr. Hardigan, I assure you they are my escort in looking for you" Said a female voice from behind James, causing the power armored man to deselect his bulky white armor in favor of his Merc Grunt Outfit with a heavily modified chest piece salvaged from a set of Desert Ranger armor.

The switch causing a bright blue flash, that temporarily blinded all occupants of the street except James. By the time their eyes adjusted from the flash, he was gone.

"Where'd he go?" Spoke one of the security officers, his rifle scanning the area around him nervously.

"Why are you looking for me, and if you're not with the Enclave than just who are you?" James asked from behind a concrete traffic divider while dematerializing several grenades and his M1 Carbine before speaking again, "your well-trained judging from how your boys move, and those uniforms are way too clean for just a bunch of random raiders, are ya'll from the west or something?"

"They are members of the Private Security Firm that Beacon employs, they are all ex-military, mostly from Atlas, I am Glynda Goodwitch, a Professor at Beacon, the Headmaster sent me to retrieve you so that he could speak with you." Glynda explained simply, James didn't need to see the woman to know she was the definition of 'No nonsense'

"And what happens after I meet with this so-called 'Headmaster'? He need a job done or something?" James said doubtfully, he kinda did need some caps after he spent all of his savings on 'Victory Booze'.

"If you decide to meet him, we will go from there, if you have any requests, I am sure the Headmaster will fulfill them in order to meet you in person, and he may have a job offering for you," Glynda said, obviously lying through her teeth at the last part, she couldn't see Ozpin actually hiring this guy, he was a dangerous unknown, and Ozpin only hired straight from a trusted Valian PMC, not just random thugs off the street.

"I only have two requests, wait, three, three requests," James says, holding up three fingers over the concrete divider for everyone to see.

"One, I want one of those badass looking guns," he said pointing at the rifle in McCoy's hands as if he wasn't hiding behind a concrete mini-wall.

"Two, I want Materials and tools along with a place to work," James said without hesitation, pointing his finger in the air.

"And Three, I want to get my Humvee hauled wherever we're going." James finished, waiting for the woman's reply, but instead of hearing the voice of Glynda someone else spoke.

"Whats a Hum-vee?" the man's voice asked, his voice cracking while trying to pronounce the unfamiliar word.

"What's your name?" James asked his eye twitching in annoyance at the interruption and pointing towards the man from over his cover, everyone not behind the divider felt as if they were talking to a violent sock puppet without the sock.

"My names Bobby," The newly dubbed Bobby asked, confusion evident in his tone. "Why do you want to know my name?"

"Bobby, If you butt in on my business, ONE MORE, GODDAMN TIME, I WILL SHOVE MY BOOT SO FAR UP YOUR ASS YOU'LL BE TASTING RUBBER, YOU GOT ME, 'BOBBY'," James yelled at the top of his lungs, as a leg was kicked up from behind cover, causing the aforementioned to jump backward in surprise and fear.

"Okay, back to what I was saying," James said in a voice far to calm for his predicament, "I would really appreciate it if you would bring my Humvee too, I kinda may have crashed it into a giant bear looking motherfucker, and it kinda has an HMG mounted on it, and I would really like to not lose it, I would have taken it with me, but, Sarah said, and I quote, 'James, if you use that gun with your bare hands one more god damn time I'll weald it to the chassis', so long story short, she welded it to the chassis." James ranted, making a strangely feminine voice when quoting Sarah and making finger quotes from behind the divider.

Everyone present stared at James's hand in utter confusion, this man, had been having an entire conversation with them from behind a concrete divider by using his hand as a puppet and still somehow found a way to scare the shit out of half the people present, It was one of the most bizarre positions any of them, barring The Wanderer' had ever found themselves in.

"I- I believe that can be accomplished Mr, Hardigan," Glynda said as she began to question the man's sanity before speaking again, "I can't take you to the Headmaster if you stay back there,"

"Ma'am, I only have one more question," James questioned while peaking his head from behind his cover, his face a visage of curiosity.

"Yes, Mr. Hardigan?" Glynda answered, her face showing the surprise of the man in front of her not being completely ridiculous.

"Will there be a mini-bar on the flight? Because seriously, I need a drink right now, today has just been one of those days." James replied, a shit-eating grin forming on his face as he heard a quiet chuckle emanated from McCoy.

"No, no there will not be a mini-bar," Glynda said before resting her face in her hand and moving to board the Bullhead, slightly perturbed at how immature Beacon's head of security was being.

"Oh, well that's alright," James whispered to himself before popping completely out of cover, and speaking again in a singsong voice with a large white bottle in his hands, "because I brought my own"

"Hey, hows about repaying me for putting me in a hold, by giving me some of that there liquid gold you got there?" McCoy asked, chuckling and eyeing the bottle as soon as James entered the VTOL as it took off for Beacon.

"I don't know gramps, I only have about twenty bottles of vodka, and I don't like wasting good vodka, on weak men" James explained with a chuckle before taking a long swig from the bottle.

"Oh ho ho, kid, when I was in Atlas Spec Ops we had some of the best Atlesian liquor at our disposal, being a badass in the military got you the good stuff, and oh boy did we drink, but that's not the point, give me a swig, I can handle everything you have to throw at me," McCoy exclaimed, striking a dramatic pose and laughing with a cocky smile on his face causing the rest of his squad to laugh with him.

"Whatever you say, gramps," James said chuckling and handing him the unmarked white bottle with a mischevious glint in his eye, somehow the only person to not notice was McCoy

"That's right, come to papa." McCoy coed to the bottle before taking a swig.

He immediately regretted it as he did a spit take, his thought felt like he'd just poured acid down his throat and he couldn't stop himself from falling into a coughing fit.

"GAHH - what the FUCK is in that," McCoy shouted, holding his throat, the action eliciting loud laughed from the rest of the VTOL's occupants, barring Glynda.

"Oh, did Papa get a little too cocky with his "Liquid Gold'?" James teased in a singsong voice.

"If you can't handle even a single sip of the good stuff oh great 'God of Liquor', then I think you should re-evaluate your life choices, gramps." James joked, plucking the bottle out of McCoy's hands and chugging the bottle down, before moving to throw the empty bottle out of the ship. James's eyes went wide as the bottle fell to the troop compartment's floor before rolling out of the doors. Gone was the familiar visage of dull grey rubble and the corpses of those long dead, instead replaced by rolling hills of green covered in large and healthy looking green trees of various shades and shapes.

It was a forest. An honest to god forest!

The Wanderer's jaw dropped before sitting down, his legs hanging out the side of Bullhead as he subconsciously flipped a switch back and forth on his Pip-Boy with his other hand, a nervous habit as of late that only happened when he was deep in thought, or black-out-drunk.

And he was always the latter.

"Where the hell am I…" James whispered to himself over the rushing wind, his eyes glued to the sight of the forest flying by him, sure he had been to Oasis, but they had nothing on this place, it was fucking Gorgeous.

"Were flying over The Emerald Forest Mr. Hardigan, is there a problem?" Glynda said she had noticed the man's demeanor change drastically after looking out the side of the Bullhead, his once loud and boisterous behavior instead replaced with silence and a nervous tick.

"I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore," James said with a chuckle, turning his head and eyeing the other occupants of the VTOL.

'I'm in unknown territory and I'm surrounded by well-equipped men and woman on a VTOL I've never seen before headed to talk to their boss in a place I've never heard of.' The Wanderer thought to himself, he was in some deep shit if this all went south.

But for some reason he couldn't quite bring himself to care, everything was new, and where new things appear, new adventures tended to follow.

'It's about time I fuck some shit up!' James thought to himself with excitement.

A/N

Well there ya go, the first chapter of the Re-Write just a little over 5k words! it's not EXACTLY the same as the original but I wanted to keep the same feel for the first chapter as the original had.

I'd love to know what ya'll think so leave a review and tell me what you think! I live off that shit and they get me to write a lot more than I normaly would!

Oh shit, and before I forget, If you want to Beta this story shoot me a PM, I could really use one and would appreciate it immensely.