A/n: This is my first Fallout fic. Reviews are welcome please!
"Shut up and get on the ground, now!"
"Your makin' a mistake..."
"Shut up!"
Bam!
Lucas Simms fell hard to the ground as the butt of the laser rifle smashed across his jaw. During the night, men had broken into the town, locking it down. These men had killed their sniper before he even saw them, then tore their very own deputy weld apart. Simms had expected them to head to the armory, but they didn't. Clearly they weren't raiders, if they were they would have killed who they could and looted the town. Instead, they had broken into every home in the town and dragged all of their inhabitants to the center of town, gathered around the bomb.
There were eight men, clad in fearsome battle armor made of leather and metal. They held many weapons. Each carried his own laser rifle, engraved with strange symbols and painted on with chipped red paint. They held strange knives, serrated and shining. The hilts were the interesting part. They appeared to be made of bone, with long carvings along their length. The metal of the knives appeared to have been welded into the bone, and their was a hint of beautiful structure to them. They wore black spikes on their fingers and sniper rifles on their backs. Sunglasses covered their eyes, with nothing on their shaved heads. The most terrifying part was their necklaces and bracelets. Hundreds of human teeth hung from them, torn straight from the mouths of their victims.
"What do you want?" Simms asked, as calmly as he could.
"Helpers," the head man snarled.
The leader was the meanest looking of the group. He wore three full necklaces full of human teeth, and six bracelets. His own teeth were unusually white, and it looked as if someone had sharpened them for him.
"For what?"
The leader grinned nastily.
"All of you fine folk are going to carry that bomb for us."
The Citadel was the like the heart of the wasteland. A wastelander could see its lights shining from Grayditch, or so they said. Now, it had more men, more defenses, and more supplies than one could count. In the courtyard, barrels of Aqua Pura were stacked high, amidst piles of weapons. Recruits were always training, using the live firing ranges. Some initiated mock hand to hand combat, a handful were being trained in the arts of power armor, and some were taking apart and putting weapons back together. Inside was a sort of organized chaos. Tables were piled over with rad-x, rad-away, med-x and stimpaks. Everywhere computers hummed and whirred, little lights and beeps coming from them. This was the laboratory. In the center, men and women in red robes were working on a huge robot, half finished and gleaming in the industrial lights.
In the back of the Citadel, a meeting was in place. The men and women wore power armor, except for three men. One was old, with a white beard and wrinkled, tired face and blue robes. Another wore red robes, he was balding and held the same weary features as the first man, and looked a bit stressed. Then, there was another. He didn't wear power armor, but instead a blue uniform, fitted with leather straps and a single shoulder pad. There was a faded 101 printed on the back. His face was not tired, or stressed. His features were young, his brown hair clean cut and his blue eyes sparkling. He looked eccentric and young, very out of place amongst the power armored soldiers.
The young man half listened, half played with a small bit of string hanging from his sleeve. The talk was all very boring anyways. It was a routine, once a week meeting, a check in of sorts. Then, the man heard his name.
"Albert, are you listening?"
The question came from a blonde haired woman in power armor, her piercing eyes staring right at him.
"Yeah, you were saying that the Rangers should assist the Brotherhood. I'm with you," said Albert, a bit embarrassed.
The woman grinned.
"You want to ask them for us? You're good friends with Reilly aren't you?"
"Sure, but they're mercs. I doubt they'd be overly excited about joining the most powerful army in the wastes."
The meeting lasted a bit longer before the old man dismissed everyone. The soldiers piled out. Albert went into the hall to find his dog, Dogmeat, sitting patiently at the foot of the stairs. Albert chuckled and called him and Dogmeat jumped to attention, happily trotting to his master's side.
"Good boy, let's go."
The two of them headed out, when Albert heard his name.
"Hey, Albert!"
It was Star Paladin Cross. Cross had a history with Albert's family. She had escorted he and his father to Megaton when he was just a year old. Albert held a great respect for this woman, as without her, he and his father may have been killed in the wasteland.
"What's up?"
"It's Megaton. Something's happened over there. They think it's raiders."
Albert's heart dropped. Megaton was his home. The people there were his neighbors, his friends. The Brotherhood was like his family, but Megaton was full of good people. He had once been hired to detonate the atomic bomb in the town center, but refused. In turn, he had deactivated the bomb and killed the man who had enlisted him, throwing him off of Tenpenny Tower. Albert would go to any length to help whomever he could.
"Guess I'm going to Megaton."