The Wasteland Journals Chapter 9 Army Management 101, a fallout fanfic

Chapter 9: Army Management 101

3:30 AM, CO's Quarters, Raven Rock:

Sleep usually came easily to the Lone Wanderer. During her time across the Wasteland she had learned to use anything from a radroach infested mattress hidden in the corner of some blighted office building, to piles of cardboard or some other unidentifiable substance that she would rather not think about, in order to get some sleep.

One would think that by comparison the bed provided in the commanding officers quarters would have been some of the best sleep she would have had since leaving Vault 11. Instead all she ended up doing was lying in her bed and starring at the ceiling until boredom got the best of her and she decided to get a head start on her daily task list.

Tonight was no exception; the Wanderer looked to her right and saw the time, and groaned loudly. After one last effort to force sleep, she decided that she had all she could stand of counting the pipes and vents in her ceiling, she left the bed. After putting on a pair of slippers, she moved over to the desk, dominated by a large computer terminal.

As the system began booting up, she reached down to the refrigerator she kept next to her desk and pulled out a Nuka Cola. "Ah Nuka, you're my only friend." She whispered to beverage as she pulled off the cap and took a swig.

Before she could engage in any more loathing over her worsening condition, she heard the familiar sound of "hail to the Chief" and turned to her computer. The screen was filled with important data that would probably look like gibberish to any reasonable person.

Sitting back in her chair, finishing her drink, she remembered being introduced to the command console only a few months prior.

The massive Sentry Bot that was currently serving as President Eden's avatar finally led the commander to her quarters. "Thank Heaven" she whispered, the base was a hell of a lot bigger than she had realized, not to mention that her feet were not used to walking around in high heels 'what sadistic bastard invented these things!' she raged.

"And over here is your…" the Wanderer completely blanked anything else that Eden said as she sat on the bed, how much important information could there be about her quarters? Bed was obvious, bathroom wasn't too hard to find, the dresser and footlocker were self explanatory, unless there was some sort of hidden self destruct devices or trap doors overtop pits filled with feral ghouls she would be fine.

Then again, knowing President Eden a death trap laced bedroom was a very real possibility.

Unfortunately, the AI had noticed her lethargy and fired a laser above her head. Hearing the sound of a laser sizzling through the air, and having the bright red flash nearly blind you was a surefire way to get someone's attention. In the Wanderer's case it made her all but jump out of her skin.

Why Eden thought this was a good way to get people's attention would forever remain a mystery.

"Colonel, this next part is important. So please pay attention." The drone echoed the President in its authoritarian voice, as the Wanderer did her best not to scream.

"This is your command console; from here you can direct almost all of the operations of the Enclave that are under your purview." She wanted to ask what exactly that meant, but her question was preempted, "before you ask, that means everything that goes on here aside from facility maintenance and automated processes." Whether or not President Eden was beginning to develop mind reading powers was a question the Lone Wanderer would rather not think about. "From here you determine what operations, patrols and missions that the soldiers should undertake, as well as what assets you want to commit to those tasks. Issue orders to the manufacturing and construction divisions on what equipment you want built, what facilities are to be constructed, and how our various bases will expand. From here you can also make critical decisions on what scientific breakthroughs you want our science staff to focus on."

The Wanderer decided to take a gamble and interrupt the President's infomercial-esque monologue. "I thought it was Major Walter's job to oversee the science division."

"Technically you would be correct, but the Major is more than a few crayons short of a box. Besides, your job isn't so much to determine what the science division does, it is more the job of trying to sort out what possible breakthroughs they have made that have any practicality to them, and deciding which research avenues you want us to put to actual use."

After meeting the eccentric head of the science division, the Wanderer could only imagine what kind of bizarre discoveries would come from the labs. Images of robotic alligators and man eating potatoes filled her mind.

"The Most important purpose of this terminal is for you to manage the resources of the Enclave. This involves both controlling the personnel of the army and civilian sectors, and managing the materials and funding we have available. If you screw that up, things become problematic."

The red haired Colonel thought this had all sounded familiar, "So basically it's a real life version of XCom."

The sentry bot's ability to demonstrate emotion would make TV static look exciting, but President Eden's response of "…X-C-O-M…?" demonstrated his confusion clearly.

"Oh never mind" she sighed, lying back on the bed.

Still in her nightclothes, the Wanderer sat down at her seat and began to browse through all the bright green text that filled her screen. The room was bathed in a sickly green glow as she began her work as the Enclave Commander.

"Alright," she muttered as she typed commands into the screen to open her mailbox.

Recycler Units: Resource retrieval operations running smoothly, resource report attached

Raven Rock Scientific Branch: RE: The X-42 Samples

Major Peter: Mission and Outpost reports available, assignments awaiting your approval

Major Walter: Project Purity reports and possible upgrades

Diplomatic Branch, Mr. Richardson: Re: Tenpenny Alliance

Engineering and Construction: Reports available for ongoing construction projects at Raven Rock, Plans for new projects are requested

With a bored sigh, she decided to start with the mail that held any type of remote interest to her.

Colonel, we have begun analysis of the sap samples you retrieved from subject X-42 (AKA Harold). We are pleased to report that initial analysis shows that the samples hold some significant promise for development in our ongoing terraforming research. We have put Dr. Holt in charge of the research as she is our resident expert in the field of botany.

We know you have some reservations about the decision to use her for this project, we are very aware that her predisposition towards "hazardous results" can be problematic. However, her expertise in this matter outweighs the possible risk of this project ending the same as her hydroponic research. We promise that we will do what we can to keep a short leash on her.

"Are you kidding me, they're putting her in charge!" she yelled at the screen. Taking another swig of her nuka cola, she set about typing her response.

Re: Science Branch

Be aware, those samples are vital to our ongoing efforts to speed up the revitalization of the wasteland, and I would rather not go hunting through a Mire Lurk infested cave in order to replace any squandered samples. I have given Dr. Holt great leeway in these matters previously, but my patience is running out. Let Dr. Holt know that should her research in this matter result in another carnivorous plant monster, then I will be feeding her to it.

So she continued for the next few hours, perusing through the various tasks, reports and occasional call down to the different departments who apparently lacked the ability to proofread their messages.A few hours of resource allocation and other essential but boring work and she decided to give up for the time being. She downloaded anything that was left into her pipboy.

"Man, I can't wait until they get the new recreational area finished." She leaned back in her chair, wincing at the crackle of her joints as she changed position. As she took a second to sit back and relax, the Wanderer caught the sight of the clock over her desk. "Alright, let's try that sleep thing again."

A few more attempts at falling into unconsciousness, and one alarm clock smashed to bits against the bunker wall later, the Colonel began her efforts to prepare for the day.

In spite of how much she had come to despise her formal uniform, and the high heeled boots of bane, it was important to keep up appearances. And nothing got a Wastelander's attention or left them utterly befuddled like a person in dress military uniform. Usually that would grant her about a minute before the average wastelander would open fire, as she had learned a few days prior.

She winced putting her body armor on, the bruises from her last attempt at negotiations in the wasteland had not yet healed. Someone had forgotten to mention that bullets hitting your chest still hurt like hell even with armor on.

'At least I didn't add another scar to the collection' she thought, looking at a few of the jagged marks left from the shrapnel of several grenades and missiles she had been a few steps too close to, and the long lines from the times when raiders and supermutants had gotten the best of her.

Most of these scars were well concealed underneath her clothing, so it stayed between the Wanderer, God, her future husband and President Eden. It would be foolish to complain, a few scars from nasty cuts and stray bullets weren't anything to complain about in a world filled with mutant monsters.

She threw her tan officers trench-coat on over her black enclave uniform and strapped on her gunbelt, taking just a second to check the charge on her energy cells and her plasma pistol. Never hurts to be careful.

It took her ten minutes, and a full high heeled sprint to get over to the hanger bay where her vertibird was waiting, along with her bodyguards.

"Sleep in again m'am?" one of the soldiers laughed. He received a swift punch to the face mask that caused his voice box to crackle, the Wanderer winced slightly from the painful reminder that titanium beats fist, but thankfully her gloves concealed her bleeding knuckles. "Sorry m'am" the soldier apologized.

"Watch out Victor Five" the other guard laughed as he warned the vertibird pilot. "Alpha Two just found out how much of a sense of humor the Colonel has."

The pilot laughed, he liked the Colonel quite a bit, as she actually acted like a decent human being, a sharp contrast to the last asshole he had to play chauffer to. Still, the Colonel was prone to mood swings; some days she would buy you a drink in the mess hall ask you about the wife and kids and all that "I'm trying to get good Karma" shit. Other days she would let her bitchy side out, and kick a few puppies for good measure. The latter of which was happening with increasing frequency.

"Hauling an angry ginger around the wasteland, I think we should get hazard pay for that." The pilot replied on their private channel. Alpha One laughed, Alpha Two's head was still ringing from the punch.

The pilot wisely shut up as she stepped into the cargo hold of the transport. Victor Five moved to his preflight checks and startup as the Colonel and her two hulking body guards strapped the guns in and took their seats in the cargo hold. It always amazed the Wanderer that the tilt rotor aircraft had such a roomy interior in spite of how small it looked on the outside.

Finally the pilot finished his preflight checks and the copilot called back for everybody to hold on. The beating of the rotors outside the aircraft meshed well with the feeling of vertigo as the aircraft began to ascend the launch tunnel from the underground base's hangar. Outside, a squad of Enclave infantry stood guard at the bunker's ground entrance, they turned towards the familiar thumping sound of a vertibird ascending out of the mountain, and flying directly above their position.

Inside the aircraft, the Lone Wanderer's stomach lurched as the aircraft tilted as it reached the proper altitude and turned southeast.

"Are you alright m'am?" Alpha One asked, his voice giving the gravely distortion characteristic of all power armor headsets.

"It's just the hard turns that get to me." She replied. Her first few times in a vertibird had been an unpleasant experience. She distinctly remembered almost coating the interior of one vertibird with her stomach's contents on her first ride with Colonel Autumn. Like all things, eventually you started getting used to them, and now it was only the occasional bout of nausea she had to worry about.

"Andrews Air Base, this is VB Zero One, we are on approach from Raven Rock Base and the Colonel is aboard." The pilot's voice cut through the sounds of the engines and the wind buffeting the aircraft. "Estimated time of arrival, twenty minutes, VB Zero One out."

Andrews Air Base: 10:00 AM

A platoon of armored Enclave infantry stood at attention on the runway before the control tower of Andrews Air Base. In front of the twenty armored infantry lined up in formation, stood five officers, in their heavy tan uniforms. At their center was Major Olivia, she looked exactly the same as she always did, the blank emotionless look all but painted onto her face.

The vertibird came in from the northeast over the base and began to hover over the landing strip, kicking up all sorts of dirt and grime as the heavy tilt rotor aircraft prepared to land. The Enclave infantry were unfazed by the dust devil, due in no small part to their power armors built in filtration systems. Major Olivia and her command staff were not so fortunate in this regard and she did her best not to choke in the storm.

The landing gear deployed with a quiet hum, completely drowned out to anyone not in the aircraft and set down with a loud thud. With pilot cutting power to the engines, the rotors began to slow and the dust storm quickly subsided.

Stifling one last cough of wasteland sand, Major Olivia dusted off some of the more obvious patches of dirt from her uniform. 'Note to self,' she thought, 'Wait until the damned helicopter has landed next time before stepping out with the honor guard.'

The ramp lowered from the vertibird as a pair of flight support personnel moved to secure the aircraft. Out of the vertibird's cargo bay, two massive forms in Tesla Armor, plasma rifles drawn, stepped out and moved to flank either side of the ramp. The infantry platoon saluted as the Colonel stepped out onto the ramp.

She reached the first step with no problem, but on the ramps second step her boot slid forward, pitching the Colonel forward with a loud cry of "FUUUUUUU-"followed by a crash.

Several winces of pain could be heard from the infantry that continued to stand in salute. Not fazed by such foolishness, Major Olivia stepped forward and helped the Colonel up.

"Still getting used to the high heels m'am?" Major Olivia asked as she grabbed a handkerchief from the lieutenant standing next to her and gave it to the Colonel.

The Colonel quickly put the piece of cloth to use, wiping the blood from her lips and then pinching her nose. Not wanting to give a nasally response she simply nodded her head. With a sympathetic nod, Major Olivia spun around to the assembled troops, and in a booming, commanding voice ordered them all at ease.

"Shall we proceed with the inspection m'am?" The Major asked. Once again the Colonel gave a simple nod as she held her nose with the blood stained handkerchief.

"Well, that was graceful." Alpha One laughed as the Colonel and Major Olivia began to walk towards the main base facilities.

A few hours later, and one stop at the infirmary so that the Colonel could get some tissue to jam up her nose. The tour walked past a heavily armored bunker, converted from what had once been a prewar bomber hangar.

"The new power armor production facilities will be operational within the next ten days, once we have all the machinery calibrated and the personnel trained we will be able to move to full production of Hellfire and Power Armor." Major Olivia droned on, oblivious to the fact that the Colonel had stopped to look at the massive, reinforced armor structure.

"Major," Finally the Wanderer got the officers attention, "What exactly are you planning on doing with this structure?" she asked.

"Ah," Major Olivia noted, "this is the facility we had built to accommodate Sigma Squad." The Major pointed to the stylized Sigma Insignias recently spray painted on both of the blast doors.

A chill went up the Colonel's spine, she was well aware of the reputation Sigma Squad had earned itself within the Enclave military. Overkill was not so much as philosophy as it was a mandatory element of every strategy that the squad would ever be involved with. If a plan didn't call for the use of a mininuke, leveling a structure, or filling the air with enough energy to power a New Vegas casino, then they would find a way to make sure it happened, however hilarious the excuse would be.

Because of this "enthusiasm" Sigma Squad had typically been sent out to some remote wasteland outpost or section of the base far away from other military units who feared they would be caught in the crossfire of Sigma's legendary training drills.

When she had first been appointed as commander of the Enclave military, the Lone Wanderer had thought it would be a good idea to disband the squad, as the individual soldier's psychotic obsession with big guns and bigger explosions seemed to play off each other. So many people sharing the same love of catastrophic destruction was doomed to spiral out of control, and if the Battle for the Purifier hadn't been enough evidence, a recent incident involving use of a prototype plasma gatling cannon against mole rats was sufficient testimony to the danger of their "enthusiasm."

However, President Eden saw her request and proceeded to give the Wanderer a history lesson about Colonel Autumn trying the same plan years ago. It took many years of brutal training and indoctrination to remove the "infection" that followed the former Sigma members when they were placed in other squads. To this day Psychologists in the Enclave still list "Sigma Syndrome" as the number one cause of friendly fire incidents.

As grim as it seemed, containing the nuts to a bunker and bringing them out whenever something needed to be killed several times over was probably the best course of action.

"I would like to see the facility." The Colonel ordered. Major Olivia was not a woman who was known for showing much emotion, as such, even slight gestures spoke volumes when she was involved. Olivia's response of cocking her eye was enough to clearly send the message of 'you sure about that' and 'you are completely insane' without saying a word.

The Blonde stepped up to the terminal and entered the code. Massive hydraulic pistons ground behind the wall as the door locks disengaged and the thick blast doors slowly slid open. "Don't you think this security might be a little much Major? I seriously doubt that anyone would go…"

The Colonel froze when she heard the sound of a countdown coming from the hangar. Major Olivia nonchalantly stepped away from the entrance as both the Colonel and her body guards moved very quickly to the far corner of the structure.

The trio ducked behind one of the support beams of the bunker's exterior, all the while Major Olivia held her ground. When the countdown reached zero, the unmistakable "FWOOSH" of a heavy incinerator filled the air, along with a powerful blast of heat.

"See, I told you that those new armor mods would work against the heavy incinerator."

"Don't count your chickens before they hatch, Deryl is still on fire over there. ARE YOU COOKING IN THERE YET?!"

"Nope, he waved, that means I get the whiskey and dibs on the plasma gatling cannon."

"Like hell it does! And that's not waving, he's trying to take the searing hot armor off before his skin melts to it."

"Bull shit, I won, you lost accept…" the soldiers shut up as Major Olivia whistled.

Two soldiers wearing uniform pants and black tank tops turned around, one of which was holding the monstrous, and still smoldering heavy incinerator with one hand. "Sorry Major we didn't know we had visitors, I guess we need to work on the doorbell."

The Lone Wanderer and her guards had moved out of cover, and nervously stood next to Major Olivia. "We didn't reinforce the hangar to keep people out, m'am." The Major's deadpan response was proving to be extremely unnerving "It was to make sure nothing they built did significant damage to the base." The Colonel couldn't argue with that logic as she stepped into the hangar and saw all the goodies Sigma had strewn across their bunker home.

Dominating the room was a vertibird gunship, clearly in the process of being refit to "Sigma Standards" which looked to involve a lot of weapon systems, armor, and something that gave off the same light as glowing ghoul right before he exploded in a storm of radioactive happiness. Behind that was a large fabrication area filled with workbenches and heavy machinery, any space on which was filled with blueprints, tools, components, ammunition, or and some things that didn't look like they came from this world. The Lone Wanderer prayed they hadn't come across alien technology. The entire western half of the bay was dominated by a firing range, while the east side of the hangar contained an old armory that had been repurposed as the squad's barracks.

It was the most bizarre and possibly insane fusion of military and mad science mankind had ever seen. This facility stood as a complete subversion of the prewar stereotype of the "dumb jarheads" and it was absolutely terrifying.

Never one to be particularly concerned about the ethics of super or even evil science, the Wanderer moved past the soldiers and looked at the work benches. She looked over some of the plans and was astonished at the details, even with her background in science; the Wanderer couldn't begin to fathom some of the material she was reading, though she was pretty sure that some of it violated the laws of physics, thermodynamics, and several statutes of the Enclave's greatly relaxed standards on war crimes.

Before she could give her praise to the Sigmas for their surprising level of intelligence, she caught sight of several men in the stereotypically white lab coats and uniforms of the Enclave's science division, in the far side of the hangar, chained and duct taped to their chairs.

"Uhm, what is the story with that?" the Wanderer asked pointing towards the science slaves.

"Oh we just needed to borrow them; we needed a little help working on the cooling system for the Death Storm." One of the Sigma soldiers with a sergeant's chevrons tattooed on his arm answered.

"Borrowed?" the Colonel asked, her face turning slightly pale as both her guards tightened the hold on their weapons.

"Sigma will occasionally abscond with some of our scientists and engineers when they need help with one of their projects." Major Olivia chimed in, "As long as they bring them back to us in one piece and with their faculties intact we are willing to look the other way."

'These people are as crazy as Moira Brown' a shudder went through the Wanderer's DNA at the memory of Doc Brown. 'I've got to get out of here before something bad happens!' Wisely she turned to leave, but caught sight of a statue and the powerful "curiosity in violation of common sense" instinct the Wanderer had inherited from her father overwhelmed her flight response.

She and her bodyguards stared at the statue for a moment, drinking in all the details before she asked the obvious question, "Why does that statue have a nuclear bomb for a head?" The Wanderer asked, and instantly regretted.

Without missing a beat, all of the various soldiers throughout the hangar stopped what they were doing and turned to face the hulking armored titan that indeed had what appeared to be an ICBM for a head. "The pinnacle, and all we seek to achieve; destruction unparalleled, oblivion to shake the world to its very foundation. Make the Earth cry like the whiny bitch she is! Boom for the Boom God!" the Sigmas chanted with equal reverence and bloodlust.

'I take it back; these people leave Moira Brown in the dust.'

2:30 PM

The Wanderer faded in and out of consciousness as she sat in the horribly uncomfortable seat in her vertibird. With how tired she was, she could probably fall asleep in a super mutant hovel and not give a damn. The people onboard had not helped matters either, her two guards were having a private conversation using their personal radio, and the pilot and copilot were busy flying the gunship.

Letting the wonderful experience of the Andrews Air Base tour fade from memory led her into the loving embrace of rest. And as the world faded around her she found herself in an unfamiliar environment.

Typically her dreams of late had involved nightmares about swimming pools, being back in the vault with all her jump suits missing forcing her to do everything in her underwear, or being pregnant with Butch DeLoria's child (That last one was particularly haunting). But this one was new.

She found herself in a forested area, eerily similar to the Oasis, but without any of the sounds of life or any of the adorably crazy tree huggers that made up the commune. Even Harold, the loveably suicidal sentient tree was missing in action. The green trees cast long shadows that made the entire world a lot darker than she ever thought the outside could be.

The young woman stood, alone in the woods, clad in Colonel's uniform, utterly bewildered. She noticed a slight sound, but it was a whisper that she would fade just as soon as the Wanderer registered it.

The silence was wrong, and the feeling of being watched only added to the wrongness of everything in this place.

A flash of white caught her eye, and the Wanderer noticed what looked like the flutter of a long white coat as it passed between the trees.

Looking for anything that she could pursue, the Lone Wanderer took off after it, following it through the trees, never seeing more than the slight blaze of white in the dark background. The trees of the forest became taller the light faded further and further into darkness as she pursued her target. All the while, the whispers were becoming louder the deeper she went into the darkness.

Finally the trail came to an end in a clearing. The sky was cast in dark storm clouds, drowning out all light, as leaves fell to the ground, carpeting the ground. She could see a tall and imposing man wearing a white coat, his back turned towards her, dark hair highlighted with bits of grey, black boots and blue pants with a yellow stripe visible outside the bleached white coat.

Her breath caught in her mouth as she stopped dead in her tracks. The Wanderer couldn't bring herself to take another step closer as a grim familiarity filled her mind. After several minutes of silence, the Wanderer forced out the only word she could manage.

"Dad…?"