- You Have Selected [PALADIN JACOB ALBRIGHT]

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Member: Senior Paladin Jacob Albright
Service Number: 10001998
Date of Birth: 09-03-2157
Date of Death: Unavailable
Place of Death: Unavailable
Chapter: West Coast
Duty Stations: Lost Hills
Noted Engagements: Northern Pass Clearing, Mutant Steamtruck plant raid
Tech Recovered: SM Radio Dish, Steamtruck Prototype blueprints, Aerial Oxygen Recycling Unit
Archive Submission: Journal Entry

June 3rd, 2185
Senior Paladin Drako's squad dispersed in the uncharted northern mountains past Shady Sands or "NCR" as they like to call themselves now to track down muties bothering northern explorers. I gave my opinion that this was a bad move, but she didn't listen. I mean, our T-51 suits can take a lot of punishment, but the remnants of the Master's armies are still armed with some of the best pre-war gear available at the time. Regardless, here I am, alone in the uncharted northern mountains without any backup. I was dispatched to the northeast through a nameless canyon under strict orders to only initiate comms if something happens or when Paladin Drako calls for a status report at 6am, noon, and 6pm. This radio silence is awful, but my orders also said to proceed until told otherwise. I know to rally at Lost Hills if comms get destroyed, but I wonder how long Paladin Drako is having us patrol for.

June 4th, 2185
Gave my status reports when I was supposed to, but Paladin Drako silenced me when I tried to ask for a plan of action. At noon, I tried to ask if any of the other teams had encountered any muties but never got an answer. Anyway, I reached the end of the pass shortly after the noon status report, and was looking at more flat desert into the north. Nothing was out of the ordinary so far, so I started passing the time by updating my map, thinking of clever ways to usurp Drako, and daydreaming about what I'd do to the next super mutant I have the pleasure of killing.

June 5th, 2185
Still nothing, and no word on a plan. I thought I heard gunshots in the distance, but only saw some wasters shooting at critters in the desert. I thought of approaching to ask if they'd seen any mutants, but considered the possibility of them being raiders. Last thing I needed was to get a whole gang coming after me when i'm trying to track down those creatures. So, I put a few miles between the wasters, and set my gear down in a rocky wash full of debris and underbrush to write this and tend to my armor. Just gave my status report at 6pm when I heard some activity in the distant brush about a click away. I'll write more later but I'm gonna hop in my suit and check it out… Probably just a critter.

June 9th, 2185
The only way I could describe the past few days are… interesting? At the end of my last entry I went to go see to that movement in the brush. It was nightfall, and after working my way through the wash, I saw it: A super mutant. Just who I'd come to kill. I saw the big green creature sitting on a boulder next to a small campfire. Quickly surveying the area, I noticed there were only enough provisions for one, despite the amount of weaponry. I was about to radio Paladin Drako that I had contact and engagement was imminent. I released the safety catch on my laser rifle, aimed it at the thing, and was about to fire when the radio fell out of my hand and interrupted the silence with a *CLANK* on a rock beneath me. The creature looked my way, and I knew I was concealed by the night, so I reached down to pick it up. When I had the radio in my hand, I aimed back at the distant creature, and when I tried to aim again, the radio was shot out of my hand by a long burst of minigun fire that sprayed in my direction.

In that moment, I ducked down into the brush and fired a few blind shots with my laser rifle. I always hated the fact that laser weapons were standard for patrols. Nothing gives away your position quite like a super bright laser trail. After those shots, the mutant's gunfire obviously became more accurate. I returned a few more shots, and accidentally set ablaze to the underbrush of the wash as my laser rifle's lens clearly needed cleaning. The fire raged and I fled back to my camp as the fire grew. There was no time to write because the mutant circled around the fire and followed me with heavy footsteps.

There was no hope, the radio was busted, and I was stuck in the northern wastes without any means of backup or communication. I considered falling back to Lost Hills, but that was days away and the mutant was still following me. I ran for a while, and then returned some shots when the minigun rounds kicked up dust a little too close for my liking. The mutant and I took turns suppressing each other all through the night, until dawn came, and after the wash fire died. When the sun was above the east, the mutant had run out of ammunition, and I trailed the beast. Back at the creature's camp, the thing was ready to end humanity with the amount of weapons he had. When the minigun was out, I clipped the thing a few times, and it whipped around with a plasma caster. I fell back again as superheated plasma bolts whizzed past me, and I tried for cover.

This went on all day, and both of us seemed to telepathically know when to rest for water or food. It was almost like there was a mutual understanding with each other as we tried to kill the other. I considered taking some of those rest periods to write, but I was too alert about a possible ambush.

Two days later, and we were STILL trying to kill each other. I wondered why this was so different. I was too young take part in the battles immediately after the Master was defeated, but I'd killed plenty of super mutants before. I'd taken part in about three assaults where I personally killed a half a dozen green bastards. Of course, those other times, I had the backing of another squad or two armed with the big guns and clad in T-51. I didn't understand this situation. How was one single mutant so hard to kill? I figured this mutant was one of the "Primes" based on his tactics and adaptation to my own. We spent three full days and that first evening trying to kill one another, only for the odds to go in either of our favors when one of us got the drop on the other. It was the evening of the 8th, or last night when things came to a head. I was out of food, nearly out of water, my armor needed recharging or a new FC, and I was down to 11 shots for my laser rifle when I'd given up. One of us was going to kill the other, and this mutant seemed smart enough to end all the cat and mouse bullshit.

I again think the mutant and I spoke telepathically because the two of us met on the ridge overlooking the eastern edge of the burnt-out wash. The 8ft beast approached with a sneer, and I removed my helmet to show my own. I threw my laser rifle to the dirt, and the mutant must have run out of ammo for his heavy weapons because he threw two submachineguns to the dirt. I drew my ripper from my waist bag, and the mutant covered his monstrous hand with a power fist. No more formalities.

We charged each other on the ridge, and met where it was flat and dusty. My ripper tore into the hulking left arm but the smash from that power fist hit me at the same time. My left shoulder pauldron was busted, but the two of us kept going. The ripper obliterated the mutated flesh wherever it landed, and the power fist smashed my armor with each impact. The longest sparring match I'd ever been in during training had been for five minutes and by the end of it I was completely out of it. Time was almost non-existent as we both fought to survive and kill the other, but 45 minutes had eventually passed. It was only after I was knocked to the ground when the peculiarity began. I had nearly cut the mutant's throat with my ripper's last successful hit, and we were both on the ground yards from the other. Something strange happened when I realized I was huffing and puffing. The mutant was silent and treating wounds when it confirmed my theory that it was a prime by asking me with clear annunciation;

"Need some water?"

I nodded yes, but refused to answer the mutated freak's question. I struggled to my feet and it did the same. Before charging each other again, I remember thinking how strange it was to hear a super mutant ask that question. I considered that the question was a taunt, but my mind was too muddled with exhaustion and dehydration to sort that out at the time. Enough thinking; We clashed again, but both of us were incredibly winded.

I locked the mutant's right arm under my left arm plates, and brought the ripper down only for it to be caught by the mutant's left arm. The two of us gave everything we had and I felt the sweat of strain pouring down my face. I caught the eyes of the mutant and we both stared at each other with hatred as one lapse of strength could mean death.

Suddenly, I thought I heard the mutant… Snicker?

I was still focused on trying to kill the mutant when the thought entered my head that I'd never heard a mutant laugh. I involuntarily gave a snicker myself. The two of us caught each other's looks again and the thing released a legitimate laugh. I laughed again at the thought of hearing a mutant laugh. The thing's chuckle soon overtook it, and I felt my hand with the ripper unrestrained, but for some reason I couldn't bring the handheld chainsaw down to finish my job. I just thought about the mutant laughing and I found myself laughing too, not entirely sure of why. Nothing about the past three days had been funny at all through the gunfire, laser blasts, and constant fear; yet still we laughed. After a few seconds of laughing, I couldn't take it. My sides were hurting from laughter more than the freshest wounds of the long skirmish. My armor made a loud *THUD* as I fell into the dirt and the beast did the same. Neither one of us could stop laughing. What was I doing? Why didn't I kill the thing? Why did it start laughing? What was next? My questions were answered when we both eased ourselves down and the hulking bloody green humanoid asked through diminishing hysteria;

"What are we doing?"

I turned the ripper off and set it down on the sands, staring at the ground and feeling the beads of sweat as the evening winds went by. I gave another involuntary light chuckle and said, "I swore an oath to kill things like you…"

I still wasn't looking at the mutant, but I felt it nod in understanding from yards away before it said, "Several years ago, I swore to kill humans myself… Well, most humans anyway…" The mutant added almost jokingly, "Especially ones in shiny armor like that."

I looked at the creature feeling my throat dryer than it ever had been in my life. The fight really took everything out of me, and I looked at my battered armor. I saw all the blood and dirt. Turning back to the mutant, I asked, "Shiny? Have you seen this armor?"

The mutant asked wittedly, "Got an inspection coming up?"

That little comment caught me off guard, and I laughed again while trying to moisten my mouth. I was about to continue the joke when it hit me, and I turned to the mutant once more. I asked the only thing on my mind, "What's the point?"

The mutant knew exactly what I was talking about and chuckled again repeating me in agreement, "What's the point?" The mutant tossed me a canteen from the bag strapped to a tire and shuffled to his feet saying, "Drink up… You didn't fight me for three days just to die of thirst."

I looked at the creature, wondering what the angle was, and watching its hands for anything suspicious as it approached me. I took a few long swigs, and the beast was lording over me. I watched the mutant's silhouette against the full moon and starry sky as it removed the power fist. It then slowly extended a large hand towards me, and I instinctively took it before I could think. Helping me to my feet, the mutant said;

"Name's Marcus."

I tried to hand the canteen back, but "Marcus" declined. My mental and physical exhaustion wanted me to thank the mutant, but I just said, "Name's Palad- Jacob, just Jacob."

June 10th 2185
I spent the whole day and that final evening with Marcus at his camp. The two of us marveled about all the spent ammo casings and drained energy cells across the rocky wash. The mutan-Marcus gave me some of his food and water while I gave him some of my medical supplies since he didn't have armor like I did. Days ago, I never would've even imagined it possible for a human to be friends with a mutant, but that's, that's what happened. Despite us spending days trying to kill each other, the few friendly hours with Marcus were nicer and filled with more friendship than most of my time with soldiers back at Lost Hills. The Master and the Vats were destroyed in 2161, over 20 years had passed since then, and they never told us the truth: The war against mutants was over.

[Paladin Jacob Albright returned to Lost Hills after losing Comms with his CO in March of 2186 with reports of engagements against mutants and hostile humans. Though he continued to serve and had a distinguished record from his time in service: It should be noted that the war against the Master's Abominations and those plagued by FEV has not concluded.]

Legacy: Paladin Jacob Albright was not heard from again after last unit status update on 12-02-2208 while conducting reconnaissance south of San Francisco. Archive Entry recovered in 2244 by recovery team clearing former town of Broken Hills. Though his disappearance concerned the highest levels of the Brotherhood, Paladin Jacob Albright's service record should serve as an inspiration to all who further our cause.

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*Didn't know if "Jacob" was the Paladin's last name or not, so I made it a first name and made up a last name*