"Welcome to the Mojave Wasteland," Hawk announced with some flair. He quickly brought up his left wrist, and glanced at the device mounted on it.
Samus Aran switched visor modes and scanned the device.
Technology: Pip-Boy 3000
The Pip-Boy functions as a multi-purpose tool. It possesses the capability to receive a wide range of conventional radio transmissions, store data, function as a map, and perform several other duties. It is also able to store objects in an unknown storage medium, with limits based on mass. The device is extremely durable, capable of resisting even sustained weaponfire.
Device is currently displaying a map of the region, labeled as "Mojave Wasteland." Map integrated into navigation suite.
She decided to scan her new "partner" next, to see what information she could glean from it.
Morphology: Post-Human Warrior
Name: ?Hawk?
Subject is a post-human male clad in a highly resistant set of armor, capable of blocking most small arms fire. Weaponry is primarily projectile-based and includes a ten-shot semi-automatic magazine-fed rifle chambered in 12.7x30mm, a 40x46mm four-shot pump-action tube-fed explosive projectile launcher, a drum-fed twelve-shot 18.5mm semi-automatic shotgun, and an 11.43x23mm seven-shot magazine-fed semi-automatic pistol currently fitted with a sound suppressor.
The subject possesses numerous mechanical augmentations to his body, and a number of beneficial mutations that have adapted him to life in the wastes. Without clothing or armor of any sort, the subject has an innate damage resistance equivalent to a set of Federation Police-issue armor. However, this layer of protection is primarily subdermal, meaning that his flesh is of similar resistance to that which a normal human male in his condition would have.
One network of implants seems aimed to increase strength, perception, endurance, charisma, intelligence and "luck" (via a probability matrix), and does so successfully. Another set of implants enables rapid healing and increased reaction times, as well as resistance to poisoning. The spine and heart have been replaced altogether, and the skeleton has been reinforced while simultaneously improving its healing ability.
Recommend extreme caution be taken in the event that hostilities break out between Hawk and Samus Aran. Level of experience in combat is believed to be extremely high, and data stored on Pip-Boy corroborates claims regarding kill counts. Assume subject has combat mastery.
For once, it was an "ally" that impressed her with his purported abilities.
But this time, she was dealing with a person who she had no idea how to predict, with unique abilities and an extreme version of a "home-field advantage". What was worse, for all she knew he had even more dangerous gear and abilities than what her scan indicated.
Of course, Samus had her own advantages, ones that Hawk likely wouldn't discover unless she let him. Combined with her quiet and solitary nature, she'd at least be able to remain an enigma to him. She'd been betrayed and given numerous raw deals before, and there wasn't really anybody she trusted after a decade of work in the mercenary and bounty hunting field.
The huntress had a feeling that in a dangerous and unknown place like this, with a reduced ability to resist damage, the Scan Visor would be a vital asset. In fact, every tool she had was a potential boon in this alternate Earth. And maybe she'd find some interesting new upgrades for her suit to further advance her abilities.
"Alright. We'll head to Primm, which is just a few minutes northwest of here. From there we'll head north along the I-15, then head off towards Goodsprings. We can stay there a day or two if we have to."
He led his guest through a town, which was probably the "Primm" he'd mentioned. A few sizable buildings and a few small ones populated the settlement, all equally decrepit. Almost all the paint had peeled, and they all had chunks of the outer construction missing. The skeletons of the structures were showing in places, and they looked ill-maintained in general.
The inhabitants were dressed in dirty, archaic farm clothes for the most part. Even though their clothes showed a variety of colors, they were all faded or filthy enough to seem dull. Some of them wore tan uniforms identical to those of the soldiers she'd seen last night, so she assumed they were members of the same faction.
All of them gawked at her more or less, and she realized how gaudy the colors of her Varia Suit were here. She was used to working in hostile environments, but not ones that were inhabited by sapient beings. Usually she worked in either scantly-populated wilderness or urban environments. And at almost 2 meters, or six feet three inches tall either with or without her suit, she was a bit taller than most of the men there. Her companion was a couple inches taller than her.
It then occurred that because this was an alternate Earth, in the remnants of the United States, they'd use the customary system of measurement most of the time, which was identical to the imperial system in most regards. She'd have to remember to convert metric units to customary when needed.
Samus' years of training as a warrior by the Chozo, combined with a decade of field experience, meant that she was very aware of her surroundings, and how alert others were. Perhaps that was why she was uncomfortable here, with almost every set of eyes pointed in her direction. She didn't like being the center of attention. Most urban environments she worked in were diverse enough that she didn't stand out that much.
As they left the town and continued on northward, Hawk began to speak.
"I just wanna state that the Mojave is the most civilized region I've ever been in. Sure it's extremely dangerous, but the rule of law and the existence of a government keeps it much more ordered than other places I've been. Most other places are either barely inhabited or inhabited by hostile locals. Sometimes both, and that's not counting the wildlife."
"I'm a lot more used to that," She said. "I prefer to know who I'm working with. You mind?"
"I'm flattered."
"I'll take that as a 'no'. Could you get on with it?"
"Sorry. I was raised in a Vault. Lived there from age one to age nineteen."
"Vault?"
"A fallout shelter built before the war to preserve those who reserved a place inside. They were designed to hold up to 1000 occupants, or at least some were, and they were all advertised as being intended to unseal themselves 20 years after being sealed. A lot of them had unique conditions however; I found out in an Enclave log they were designed as social experiments. There were about twenty control vaults that functioned exactly as claimed. There are six vaults in this region. Want me to give you an overview?"
"Sure." It couldn't hurt for her to get a better idea of her surroundings.
"Vault 3 was supposed to be a control vault, but the residents wanted to keep it sealed for a lot longer than 20 years. They eventually got taken over by a group of particularly drug-addled raiders a few years before I came here, after they seeked help for a flooding problem; all the inhabitants died and the Fiends took over and got a shitload of energy weapons."
"Vault 11 was designed with a very unique internal government. The Overseer was elected every year, instead of selected for life. At the end of their term, they would have to be sacrificed in a special chamber or automated systems would kill everyone inside the Vault, which was inescapable. Voting blocs formed, and they would encourage citizens to vote for the other faction's leader. 'Steve eats babies, vote for Steve!', that kinda shit. Eventually, a twisted and cruel series of events led to a civil war. When only five people remained, they decided to pick human dignity, and not sacrifice another person. An automated message informed them that there never really was an automated kill system, and opened the door to the exit. After finding out that all the death was for nothing, four of the five survivors committed suicide. It was a test of morality versus self-preservation, I suppose."
That was one of the single cruelest things Samus had ever heard of. Space Pirates were barbarians with advanced weaponry, but their brutality wasn't so psychological and mind-breaking. They were a race with barbarism in their blood, and she hated every single one of them. Yes, their experiments had driven some insane and their ethics were almost non-existent, but this was an evil game, a test that cost human lives for a mild advancement in the field of psychology. It was a different kind of evil.
"Vault 19 was filled with people who had a history of paranoia. It was separated into two sides: red and blue, with two Overseers and one of all the vital machines and facilities. Each night at the exact same time, the ventilation ducts would make a peculiar humming noise, which was actually just nothing. Each side became extremely suspicious of the other. I don't know what happened in the end, I guess they all just left when the Vault door opened."
"Vault 21 was pretty benign. All residents were compulsive gamblers, all disputes were settled by games of chance like blackjack and poker. It got along just fine until Mr. House came in, flooded a part of it he evacuated with cement, and turned the rest into a hotel."
"Vault 22 had people experimenting with some fancy biotech. A weird spore ended up infecting people, turning them into monsters. They were alive, but feral and turned into some bastardization of plant and animal."
"Vault 34 was given a vastly overstocked and unlocked armory, a full suite of recreational facilities, and was populated entirely by gun-nuts. But it became overpopulated, and the Overseer put a lock on the armory. After a large group of them became dissatisfied with being unable to use guns, said group left. They headed to Nellis Air Force Base and are known today as the Boomers. The ones who stayed behind suffered a series of accidents throughout the Vault, which became flooded and radioactive, and the door was unfortunately sealed shut."
Shortly after he finished, he stopped and drew his grenade launcher, then looked around. Samus likewise raised her Arm Cannon and began to look about, alarmed by her escort's sudden shift in behavior, but aware that he was searching for something.
"I heard gunfire." He paused for a moment before speaking again. "To the north, follow me."
He began to run towards what seemed to be an obelisk in the distance, and his guest followed.
"I don't recognize the report," He said as he ran up a hill.
Samus took a quicker route over the same hill, jumping onto rock formations and using them as oversized stairs. "I do."
"Enlighten me." Hawk slid down the other side of the hill.
"Galactic Federation Marine Corps standard-issue pulse rifle," She answered after she somersaulted downhill, then resumed running. "Same as they've been using for twenty years."
Samus and her escort were within sight of the weapons fire just moments later. A squad of Federation Marines were fending off a pair of enormous scorpions, each easily the size of a hovercar. The Ranger fired a shell from his grenade launcher, which spiraled through the air and landed between the two creatures, bursting and releasing a blast of green energy. He racked a new round into the chamber and fired again, and again, and again.
Samus fired a pair of missiles at each of the beasts, which ended up being the final blows as her companion reloaded his weapon. The beasts had fallen almost as quickly as they appeared. She noticed a pair of golden orbs floating above the corpses, and charged her Power Beam to suck the energy capsules in.
The capsules were more of a feature of her Power Suit than they were a phenomenon. When she killed an enemy their life-force energy – the very same energy that Metroids fed on – was graphically represented to her as a sort of capsule-like object if it was recoverable. The tractor beam function of her Beam weapons was a deliberate design function on the Chozo's part and sucked in such energy efficiently. Missiles, Power Bombs and other ammunition-based weapons were fed by the same sort of principle, but with minute amounts of certain elements being used to fuel nanofactories within her suit that produced the munitions.
As she walked towards the Federation Marines, her suit notified her that it had fully developed a method of staying in a physical form in absence of energy used to power her shields, as a result of subroutines she'd retained from her Light Suit.
Old news now.
Hawk was tending to one of the soldiers, who'd been stung in the leg by one of the scorpions. The other three kept their weapons trained on him, only willing to let him help because he'd provided covering fire for them.
"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" The injured grunt moaned.
"Stop whining," The Ranger told him. "Take off your helmet, drink this. You're a human, so I know it'll neutralize the poison." He held out a small gourd with a cork in the top, which he popped out.
"How do I know that won't kill me?"
"Because if you don't, then that Giant Radscorpion's venom will in two minutes. I mean really, why would I even bother saving you just to poison you?"
The trooper reluctantly removed his helmet and took the drink, downing it all in a few seconds. In a few more, he relaxed as the antivenom took effect. He put his helmet on a few moments after that and got to his feet, slightly shaky.
"Alright, Miss Aran here tells me you're Galactic Federation Marines. Apparently, she was sent here to find a pair of missing ships. As a Ranger of the New California Republic, I'd like to welcome you to the Mojave Wasteland."
The body language of the four of them was of reassurance when they heard Samus' name, and then unease when they heard the rest.
"C'mon, Goodsprings is a couple hundred yards west of here. On me."
The six of them hiked for ten minutes before reaching the town.
"Damn, it looks like a wild west town," One of the marines noted.
"I'm taking you all to Doc Mitchell's place. He's the guy who got me back on my feet after I took two in the head and got buried alive."
He took them all to a house on top of a hill and knocked on the door.
"Yeah, come on in," A gravelly voice answered. "It's unlocked."
He opened the door and motioned for his armored entourage to follow him in.
"It's Hawk, I got a few friends with me."
"Sheesh, sounds like they're carryin' Brahmin on their backs," The elderly man said without turning to face his guests. When he turned, his jaw dropped. "Oh no. Not after last time, I'm still gettin' heat for those Brotherhood types you had me help out a few months back. I'll let one of 'em stay with you, the rest can stay in the old gas station."
"Okay, Doc. Marines, you're setting up camp a couple minutes outside of town, I'll take you there. Samus, I want Doc Mitchell to do a test on you, just some agree-disagree, word association, inkblots. If you fell from the sky, you might be a bit rattled and not realize it yet. Just humor me."
The Ranger led the four jarheads out of the house, and shut the door behind him.
"Alright Mr. uh…"
"Miss Aran."
"Okay then. Just take a seat on that couch right there."
The huntress did as she was told and relaxed on the seat.
"I'm gonna start with some word association. Dog."
"Guard."
"House."
"Invaded."
"Night."
"Surprise."
"Bandit."
"Kill."
"Mother."
Samus paused for a moment. She hardly remembered her own mother, and being raised by the Chozo she had multiple maternal and paternal figures, but only one strong parental figure. Grey Voice was the closest thing she'd had to a father, but she had nothing like a mother.
"Wish."
"Okay, I've got a few statements. I want you to tell me how much you agree or disagree with 'em."
She nodded.
"Conflict just ain't in my nature."
"Strongly disagree."
"I ain't given to relyin' on others for support."
"Strongly agree."
"I'm always fixin' to be the center of attention."
"Disagree."
"I'm slow to embrace new ideas."
"Disagree"
"I charge in to deal with my problems head on."
"Disagree."
"Good, we're almost done here. Now I'm gonna show you some inkblots, and I want you to tell me what you see."
She nodded again.
"A monster's face… A starfighter… A light shining in darkness…"
Doc Mitchell finished writing on his clipboard and looked up at her with a pleasant smile. "And that's all she wrote. Good news, not much crazy in you. Probably more of that in the guy who brought you here."
The front door opened and shut, the footsteps clearly indicating that the person who'd just come in was not wearing a set of powered armor. The pacing of the gait matched that of a fairly tall human male.
"Speak of the devil," Mitchell chuckled.
"Can I talk to you in private?"
"Sure."
The two of them entered a room and closed a pair of doors, probably to create a dead zone between them and the guest. They were keeping secrets, and Samus had plenty of those kept from her. She strongly suspected "Hawk" wasn't even her guide's real name.
But with nothing more than some wooden walls between her and the secret meeting, it would be easy to eavesdrop. Her Echo Visor had both active and passive modes, and all she had to do was lock onto the two men and she could listen in.
"Doc, I just wanna know what I'm dealing with. I've heard the saying 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer', but I'm not even sure which one she is," Hawk whispered.
"Fine, but this is only because I owe you."
"I promise this is the only time I'll ask you to break doctor-patient confidentiality."
"Okay. Well she's a fighter, a loner, and a crafty one too; she seems sharp as a deathclaw's tooth."
She couldn't make out the rest because they turned on a faucet, drowning out their voices.
"Thanks Doc."
The two of them returned to the previous room, and Samus returned to her Combat Visor. And just in time for her to get a quartet of notifications on her HUD.
High-temperature anomaly nearby. Beacon online.
Unusual energy spectrum located. Beacon online.
Matter-antimatter interaction detected. Beacon online.
High-frequency energy signature found. Beacon online.
Samus raised her Arm Cannon and pointed it to her side, and a holographic projection of the Mojave appeared from the top of it, an extremely pale monochromatic blue.
"Well, that looks handy," Mitchell remarked.
"What're those question marks?" Hawk asked.
"Some of my missing Arm Cannon modules, probably."
The Ranger stepped closer to the projection. "So that's what that thing's called. Could you flip the hologram for me, let me get a look at it?"
She opted to simply reorient her Arm Cannon so they could all see the map from its proper angle.
"There's one in the ruins, Fiend territory," Hawk said. He touched the symbol and was startled when it displayed information on the target. "Unusual energy spectrum, huh?"
He tapped each of the other marked locations, reading out the location of each.
"High-temp anomaly is in the Cottonwood Crater. Matter-antimatter interaction in Searchlight. High-frequency energy signature on top of Black Mountain. That just covers a small part of the Mojave if you connect the dots. I say we hit the South Vegas Ruins first, then Black Mountain, Searchlight, and Cottonwood Crater in that order. That way we hit the closest one first and work our way south-by-southeast."
Samus nodded agreement.
"Those marines were in an escape pod from the GFS Ragnarok, a destroyer. They think it crashed west of the Mojave, but they don't know. They do know that a few other escape pods landed in the Mojave though, so they want us to keep an eye out for any other jarheads. Their pod crashed in a sandstorm at night, and they headed northwest out of a valley. Probably landed in Hidden Valley. If we stop there, do you think you could find a way to detect more of them?"
"Not unless I had a frequency to home in on. Otherwise I'll just be able to detect a signal from short-ranges."
"Got it. The marines are staying in that gas station for now and if we find more we'll send them to places I know are safe. Doc, can you keep them supplied, get 'em a HAM radio?"
"I can do that."
"Good. I might have a friend come to help out if I can, but don't get too hopeful."
"Alright. See ya around."
Hawk and Samus nodded, headed outside and began to travel northwest. After half an hour of silent travel, the huntress spoke up.
"You never told me about growing up." She wanted to keep Hawk talking, partly to kill time and partly to learn more about him. The more she knew about him, the more she could understand him. That'd make him less of a threat. Even if she couldn't extrapolate about his fighting style, knowing what made him tick would make him easier to anticipate.
"Oh yeah, got sidetracked. Vault 101 was supposed to be sealed indefinitely, but it wasn't. A few exploration teams went out a few decades ago, and my dad came in with me within the first year of my life. I thought I was born in the Vault, and that he was too. Being born outside the Vault explains why my mother died after giving birth to me. I grew up with one friend, the Overseer's daughter, Amata. I was constantly bullied until age 19. On that birthday, my dad left the Vault without telling anybody."
"And?"
"And the Overseer went batshit crazy, security killed my dad's assistant and best friend, Jonas; I'd known him since I was a kid. Amata woke me up and told me what happened, gave me a gun and told me to get out as fast as I could. I had to kill a bunch of security guards on the way out, and escaping was difficult."
He told Samus about what he'd done on his way out, the people he helped and the things he did outside the Vault, up until he finished explaining the hostile takeover of Project Purity.
"I know what you're doing. You're trying to get a read on me, learn about me so you can predict my actions better, and if we end up fighting you have a psychological advantage because you know how I think and I don't know shit about you. Just because I'm helping you doesn't mean I trust you," He said abruptly.
"But you gave me insight anyway."
"Because I've moved on from that part of my life. Anything else I tell you can't hurt me. I mean, maybe you'll be able to anticipate some of my decisions, but not how I fight."
"So why tell me anything at all?"
"Because you asked, and like I said, the information I'm giving you doesn't contain anything you can use against me in combat. Your curiosity is satisfied, I don't lose any potential advantages in a fight against you. It's a win-win."
"Actually, it's only a draw for you," Samus pointed out.
He shrugged.
"Lowering you expectations makes everything seem better, or at least less shitty. Part of how I stay alive. And I expect a quid pro quo on this, so you owe me your story later. Do you want me to go on knowing that?"
"We segment it. You give me your first half now, my first later, your second half after, my second last. Deal?"
"Deal."
Hawk explained up to Project Purity, describing helplessly watching his father die. He went on to describe saving Vault 101 and being exiled from it by his only friend.
"I had nothing to keep me going after that. But after hearing reports of what the Enclave was doing in the Wastes, I decided what I'd do from then on. What my father wanted more than anything was to help the people of the wasteland, and I decided that I had to carry on that legacy. I became the Lone Wanderer, the Hawk, a symbol of hope to those in need and an icon of fear to the unjust."
"That sounds like something out of a superhero's origin story."
"Hey, in my defense the scenario was given to me. My only choice was whether to lay around and be depressed about how shitty my life was and the wasteland was, or cowboy the fuck up and do something about it."
He described his adventures throughout the Capital Wasteland. How he almost died to bring clean water to the wastes, and finished off much of the Enclave. Experiencing Pre-War battle, freeing the denizens of the Pitt, fighting mutants and remnants of the US government, exploring a swamp and uncovering its dark secrets, and getting kidnapped by aliens.
So he's a merc with the mindset of a pragmatic Boy Scout.
Hawk drew his shotgun from its holster behind his waist. He then switched magazines and cycled the bolt, catching the ejected shell and putting it into one of his pockets.
He pointed at the ruins ahead, and one of the wrecked signs hanging on a semi-collapsed building.
Welcome to Fabulous Las Vegas.