I do not own Fallout. It is the brainchild and property of a lot of talented people, and I'm borrowing it for a walk to share a little story with you all.
…
GOLDEN GLOBES STUDIO IS PROUD TO PRESENT…
FROM THE CREATIVE MIND OF CONNOR HUSTLEBERRY, WHO BROUGHT YOU" SHADY SANDS SHUFFLE, "" MY DAUGHTER IS MARRYING A GHOUL, "" ONE NIGHT AT REDDING" …
PRODUCED BY PHIL O'HARA
STARRING
DIRK ANDARSON AS CAESAR!
OTTIS BRAZI as VULPES!
GREGORY OMPARR AS LEGATE LANIUS!
ANDDDDD STARRING MICHAEL BRAZNEN AS THE LEGATE MALPAIS…
I CAN'T GIVE A DAM!
The scene opens with foreboding music. Enters Caesar, the dreadful overlord of the infamous Legion, operates an army in the East of Colorado. The setting is atop a dam, and Caesar is cautiously advancing along.
Fearful of danger, the conqueror has trapped himself in a mass of his subordinates and associates: Mostly ordinary legionaries, but amongst these humans shields, one can find a Fiend, gawking at the sky and advancing at a slower pace than the rest of them, as well as a Great Khan, who is moving too fast and soon leave the group and screen entirely, depriving Caesar of a human shield. The emperor gesticulates wildly but fails to bring the Khan back. He is forced to add one of his legionaries and quickly cower behind his subordinate and his foam spear.
After two minutes of this, Caesar peek out of the mass, apparently see no danger, and encourages, shoving the men aside and causing them to collapse altogether. The camera follows him, allowing the actors to get back up off-screen and get to Lanius and Vulpes.
Like his troops, Vulpes is wearing foam armor and has a cartoonish dog hat on his head, with crosses over its eyes and a floppy tongue. Lanius has similar equipment but a much taller stature: He's forced to be constantly crouched to avoid overshadowing Caesar. His mask is a pained grimace as if he had just stepped into something disagreeable.
"MEN!" Declare Caesar, speaking with utmost confidence and dramatically gesturing at the sky." I HAVE DONE IT! I ALONE HAVE CONQUERED HOOVER DAM AT LAST! LET THE MOJAVE HOWL IN FEAR, FOR THEIR DOOM HAS ARRIVED!" The bald man puffs his chest up in an attempt to look brave. Unlike his subordinates, Caesar wears some real clothes. Unfortunately for him, one of his dramatic gesturings exposes an enormous" KICK ME!" sign placed upon his back." IT HAS TAKEN ME YEARS! BUT ALAS! I HAVE SEIZED THE DAM!"
Vulpes stumbles in his wording before speaking. It takes him a solid twenty seconds to stammer out the first part of a sentence." M-my-my—m-my lord… We are happy to hear this! We were starting not to believe it ourselves! So many of our men were taken down by the NCR snipers that I was afraid we were going to run out of them!"
"They're very mean." Complained Lanius, sounding pitiful, his words were coming as if he struggled to imagine them, let alone utter them." I only fight with a big… big knife. They have… shooty things. What me do?"
"Haha, you are right, Lanius, shockingly enough! I have been terrorizing hapless tribals my whole life, and I've never faced an enemy such as the NCR, with their skillful soldiers, their well-made weapons, and their determination to protect the wastes against our evil! Why, for a moment, I was almost contemplating surrender… But it doesn't matter now! I have won! And I can now take a bath in Lake Mead, the true reason for my rampage in the innocent Mojave!" Caesar began to take off his clothing as he spoke, promptly revealing a small, shriveled figure that would make a wireframe look athletic." TOWEL!"
Immediately, the formation of Joshua Graham steps into the scene, disguised as a Legionary. The other three men fail to notice the smoke coming off him or even the brown makeup on his face, emulating burn injuries. Indeed, Caesar takes the towel away and turns around, as if preparing to dive… only to immediately wheel back to Graham." I TOLD YOU TO GET OUT!" Yells the conqueror, prompting Joshua to immediately flee the scene.
"…Oh boss, there's Joshua Graham behind you!" Bellows Lanius. Caesar ignores him and instead dives straight out of the frame. The scene switches to a vast barren plain of dirt at the foot of the barrage, where Caesar thought he'd find water. The tyrant, or more accurately a foam puppet filmed at a distance, drops over the edge, screaming down and harshly landing. The comedic properties of the sequence spare Caesar from the gruesome fate that would befall anyone who'd perform such a fall, and he promptly gets back up, covered in grime and dust.
"YOU IMBECILE! WHAT IS THIS?! WHY IS THERE DIRT AND NOT WATER?!"
"Milord! You've asked for a dam!" Answers Vulpes from high above." And since we weren't making any progress over at Hoover Dam, well… We found you another one, well away from the pesky President Kimball!"
"… Oh no, Caesar fell!" Exclaims Lanius, reaching over to the edge to try to grab his leader ten seconds after the man had already fallen. Enraged at this display of idiocy, Caesar kicks away at the ground impotently and lookup.
"VULLLPPPPPPPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" He exclaims, letting out his trademark scream." COME OVER HERE! I WANT YOU TO EAT ALL THE DIRT THAT I'M CURRENTLY STANDING ON!"
"But, Milord! I cannot possibly perform such a task!" Protest Vulpes.
"I DO NOT CARE! COME DOWN HERE! NOOOWWWW!" Caesar's demand is answered when his sycophantic subordinate leap off the Dam as well. Like his master before him, the actor is replaced by a foam puppet, and his fall is filmed from far away, masterfully masking the true nature of the prop. As a final gag, though, Vulpes does not revert to his previous actor, and the puppet instead directly smacks into Caesar, hurling him back to the ground.
"VULLLPPPPPPPEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!" Exclaims the frustrated overlord of the Legion. A nice little tune accompanies the dramatic emergence of" THE END!" on the screen, and the spectators heartily applaud the performance…
… From the comfort of their movie theater. There, packed like sardines, several dozen NCR citizens are clapping and laughing at the screen, some even standing up to leave the room in anticipation of the intermission. After all, there would soon be a race to acquire the latest candies or drinks present in the room, and getting there before the stampede would be certainly most desirable. The only ones who are not clapping or laughing are the two ghouls at the upper right of the room, left alone in their little corner by those in the room with smooth skin.
"You remember when these guys did porn? Imagine going from that to state propaganda."
"Heh, I missed seeing movies." Answered the other Ghoul, picking at their nose." It's been a bit more than 200 years since I've seen a good one. That shlock with Vera Keyes that I went to before the bombs fell doesn't count as a" good one," by the way."
The ghouls, unwittingly enough, had a listener to them: A young woman of thin stature and pale skin, who was sitting the closest to them out of the other humans in the audience. She was gripping the edge of her seat, anxious at the idea of interacting with them. She had already seen the movie" A legion of imbeciles!" twice! It was good, no doubt, but she knew of the gags or grimaces that the actors would produce. Still a delightful movie, but there were higher things on her mind.
Before she could ask, though, the screen suddenly lit up again. Gone were Caesar and Vulpes. Instead, there was a depiction of the two-headed bear of the NCR, with a big rex text below. "PRESIDENT KIMBALL IS ABOUT TO SPEAK TO YOU, CITIZENS OF THE NCR!"
Patriotic music rang in the room, prompting some people to sit down. Confused children were interrupted in their quest to fetch sweets by their parents and told to" listen to the President." Some adults with children of their own simply left the room to bring the food and drinks.
She would've gone to get a drink. Still, the President's intervention was noteworthy enough that she shoved her thirst in the corner of her mind, curious as to what would be said. Immediately, the screen appeared to display none other than Kimball: the President was alone in a theater room, clapping at a screen with "THE END" on it. Amused by what he saw, as attested by his rehashed chuckling, Kimball got up and walked closer to the screen.
"I will admit, my fellow citizens, that I would much rather deal with this Caesar." Kimball's smile faded, and he joined his hands. The very picture of authority, he stood tall, with broad shoulders, sharp eyes, and a brown military haircut. The man was more fit for a general's uniform, though he looked presentable enough with his black suit. A series of medals were still pinned to his chest. Humble golden stars, for the most part, but on his right, he had placed a wide medal representing the beloved President Tandi over his heart.
As it was her name, Max had never known Tandi's presidency. Still, the woman had enjoyed lifelong popularity from her people, a gift for any politician. Even decades after her death, her shadow was still waged by every ambitious man or woman looking to make their way to the top of society.
And while Kimball had his own fame, he had the wits to use her legacy when it was needed" … The reality is not so simple. Caesar will never take the Dam, let alone threaten our great Republic. But the madman has promised to send everything he has to make life hell for our brave boys and girls at the Mojave." Kimball began to walk to the side, gesturing for the camera to follow him.
"Our mission is to bring the lights back into this damaged world. In this endeavor, we have been successful." Kimball stopped and parted his hands." Thanks to the effort of our great founder Aradesh, President Tandi… the other brave successors and I, the good citizens of the NCR, and that's you." He pointed. "Benefits from an excellent quality of life, unseen since the days before the bombs fell. As our ancestors often did, you are fed, clothed, and need not worry about raiders or disgusting beasts."
Kimball walked to the opposite side of the room, eyes still fixed on the camera. He'd blinked twice since he began his speech. "Ours is an advanced nation that has evolved past the needs for scavenging." Kimball's face briefly scrunched as if the mere mention of the word was bitter on his tongue. "… But we are not content with simply living on our side. Unlike others, we have been spreading our enlightenment to countless unfortunate souls across the Wasteland. Our brave soldiers forsook their comfort to venture across the dangerous wastelands. They fought off hostile tribals and attackers and gave a helping hand to those in need. And they've spread as far as the Mojave before encountering an enemy who is… the exact opposite of what we stand for!"
Kimball raised his fist, preparing to fend off some unseen legionary." The Legion is brutality incarnate! They care about killing, raping, and looting! Their" civilization," or so they call it, will not help Humanity in its path for recovery! They fight to destroy what is still standing and not restore the rest! And thus, they see us as the enemy. For we are strong and wise, where they have the strength and lack the wits." Kimball began to walk again." And so far, we have beaten them. Caesar's brutality has failed to break us. His army of sycophants failed, and so did Joshua Graham or his Frumentarii … Only a stroke of luck has kept Caesar active. And as long as he stands in our way, the restoration of civilization remains a mere dream…. But not for much longer!" He smiled, and went to his starting position.
"I have assigned my good friend Oliver with the destruction of Caesar, and many of our most skillful soldiers are being deployed to win the fight. For every unfortunate soldier felled, ten Legionaries pay! And we can fill these ranks! Because citizens of the NCR." He pointed again, but much more strongly, almost as if he wanted to pierce the screen and reach them." I want YOU for the NCR army! Those of you who are looking for a purpose or work… " Kimball pointed at the screen, with a commanding gaze.
"Go to the nearest recruiting station and volunteer! You will travel across the wastes! You will bond with your fellow soldiers! You will stop overwhelming evil under the orders of the decorated General Oliver! Leave your city a soldier… return as a HERO! And for those who leave their loved ones behind, we'll take care of them! You'll be paid handsomely for your contribution to a great fight!"
Max slowly rose from her seat, causing the woman behind her to lean to the side." You will go towards great danger… But like your ancestors before you, it is for a great cause! Give your descendants something to be proud of! I swear, as your President, that we will line up Caesar and his sycophants… and fill them with bullets! One bullet each for every man and woman killed by his slaver hordes!"
"For those of you who already have important jobs, of critical importance to our society. For those too old or injured to rejoin the fight. For those too young… I salute you. Stand back and watch while our boys and girls finish what you started." Kimball saluted, perhaps by reflex, and lowered his hand." This was your President, good citizens of the NCR. I wish you to have a good… séance. "The older man looked to the side briefly and then back at the camera." And think about what I said, younger ones. I count on you… We rely on you."
Kimball stayed on the frame for a solid five seconds, his profile freezing into place early on to make room for the flag of the NCR. Its emblem, the two-headed bear, entered the scene roaring, swiping, and biting at the air before settling into its calmer position. A piece of patriotic music accompanied its entrance, blasting into the ears of everyone in the theater. Even the ghouls, who had been quietly laughing through the speech, swore and covered their ears. A text appeared in red, bold enough to nearly cover the bear." THIS HAS BEEN AN ADDRESS BY THE PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC!"
…
The following hours were a rush. Max only paid half a mind to the movie's events or even to the ghouls. Kimball's speech had marked her, reverberating across the psyche through the following hours of comedic Legion slapstick. How was it? To fight for a more significant cause? To be the one to deliver death to evil-doers and salvations to the more unfortunate inhabitants of the wastes? She envisioned the Mojave. This mysterious land, hostile and barren, with a crown jewel of civilization in its center. New Vegas. A city to match Shady Sands, full of glitzy casinos and dangers.
She had spent two hours thinking of it, but the answer always came down to a resounding" no." She was not the kind of soldier who'd go toe-to-toe with a legionary or a Khan. How could she, when she had spent her life in relative comfort compared to other Wastelanders? How could she even pretend to just pick up a rifle? Max wanted to help her fellow citizens; of course, how much impact could someone like her have in this conflict? The young woman thought of this repeatedly, always making it final, only to come back to the same argument each time.
The end of the movie was a welcome break for her. As a dramatic" THE END!" accompanied the film's final seconds. In this shockingly grisly scene, Caesar is betrayed and murdered by his thuggish subordinates; Max got up, observing the pair of ghouls likewise prepare to depart the premise. They were slow in leaving, befitting people who were alive before the bombs even fell, but she could wait.
"I'm telling you. I've got a stash of their old movies, back when they were less legit. It's way better to look at, and the acting, god help us all, is better." Said the first Ghoul, adjusting the collar of the red business suit that he wore. His partner yawned and got up, patting his blue suit to get rid of some dust. She couldn't help but notice the inverted colors. Maybe they wanted to have others point it out?
"No. You can watch your porn later; we're here for business…." The Ghoul smiled and looked down at the other." It's probably fallen off, besides." Max chuckled loudly in the background, in a bid to attract the attention, and immediately got her wish when they simultaneously looked at her. She had never been glared at by a ghoul before, and in hindsight, she was happy with it being the first and only time. Their eyes were growing moldy, and the absence of their eyelashes had left them vulnerable to the elements. However, they were still piercing enough to unnerve her. After getting up for the first time, she fell on her seat and then got back up again.
"What you laughing at, smooth-skin?!" Asked the angered Ghoul." You find that funny?"
" Y-yes, it's… it's a very witty answer, I thought. B-but I meant you no harm!" Forced to access plan B much sooner than she had hoped, she dug into the pockets of her pants and pulled out a little piece of paper, which she handed out to them." I'm… huh, I'm looking for an offer! I'm Max Doleetle, the daughter of Roger Doleetle. Your old buddy from the prospector days, huh… You do remember him, right?"
The Ghoul tore the paper out of her hand and quickly set his eyes on it. The second one, who had remained largely neutral, raised a melted portion of flesh where his eyebrow used to be." I didn't know your dad was still in the business. His legs…" They motioned briefly to them, and Max shook her head.
"He's very stubborn, isn't he?" She smiled fondly, but the Ghoul scowled." Well, he requires some… sites to sc…to prospect. He's sure that some places just haven't been discovered, and since you'd know them…."
The first Ghoul calmed down very slightly, anger making way for disappointment." So that's why you've been following us all along like that? Well, I'm gonna do you a favor, then," the irradiated being calmly walked over to her and shoved the letter back into the coat of her red vest."... So, you're his daughter."
"Y-yeah, I'm his d-"
The ghoul gave her a sweet smile. "Go fuck yourself."
…
There was at least some dignity in walking out of a movie theater in tears. Sure, there would be plenty of spectators watching your desperate flailing and begging. Still, you could always attribute it to a movie being shown. It's how her father went at things when he was upset: He held it in until his hands could grab a sad book, at which point he'd just let it all out with no worries. In the absence of any books, she could always blame the movies. And on the plus side, none of the gathered people around the building were paying attention to her.
That was one more minor potential source of revenue, or so she thought as she sat down at a nearby bench. Max had every reason to be suspicious when her father told her that two ghouls friends of his were around in town. Some of his more successful friends had been contacted by them. Roger had sent her for contact on his behalf since his condition made it difficult to travel around town.
But, as often with the man, the people in his life either adored him or found him the most obnoxious person to walk the wastes. And as luck would have it, the latter opinion was much more common than the former. Truth be told, her previous endeavors had taught her to expect failure much more than success, but the more she ran out of options, the more it hurt her. Mainly because her father would say, he'd have said this, thought of that!
Was she going to keep running around dealing with his screw-ups? She had to have something more than that in store!
"Are you alright?"
"Does it look like I'm alright?" Answered Max, attempting her best to sound nasty while turning to confront the aggressor. Given the total lack of reaction on the woman's face, she hadn't been successful." … Erm." She gave a glance at her interlocutor: A perfect picture of serenity. Not confused, but not mocking of her, either. She had her black hair tied into a short bun and was wearing a grey uniform beneath the brown vest, marked with the sigil of the NCR. No visible weapon was on her person, but she was obviously military. Aware of who she was speaking to, Max shot out of the bench as if it had been seized by a Deathclaw." Oh! I mean… Sorry, I'm just…."
"He said no in the middle of the movie?" Asked the woman, the edge of her lips rising briefly." It's alright. I'm used to getting yelled at, with much more strength than this!" She rose from her seat and held her hand out. Max stared, almost fascinated. Next to this woman, she looked so small. Not because she was literally of more diminutive stature, though she was short, and next to her stood a tall woman.
But because that was a person who controlled her surroundings well. In the years leading up to the confrontation, that woman had carefully discovered her weaknesses. She removed them with the precision of a 1st recon sniper. Everybody in the army, regardless of rank, would immediately salute her as they would a superior. Perhaps that was all fake, mere weakness covered up by an intimidating mask. Still, the odds were likely that this was a woman who had eradicated any manner of flaw from her life. Her uniform was impeccable, her stance as firm as a sequoia, and her blue eyes seemed unblinking. Who was Max, in comparison? A fidgety, crying mess, with an illusion of rigor to her –aside from that stain on her shirt, caused by the Ghoul- that soon crumbled. It wasn't a matter of looks alone, just stance and demeanor.
"… I'm sorry, I'm… Y-yeah, I guess it came down to someone saying no." The officer checked into her breast pocket and pulled a small white cloth out of it, not reacting when the younger woman grabbed it and promptly scrubbed her face with it." T-thanks!" She said, handing it back.
"It's fine." The woman was handed back the dirty napkin and stared at it intently, prompting Max to sweep it to herself once more, embarrassed." Call me Sarah.! I take it that you listened to President Kimball's speech?" She asked, sitting down and gently tapping on the bench with her right hand. Max imitated her, fiddling with the napkin." What did you think of it? Was he convincing?"
"Y-yeah, he was! He's… good at talking. Which makes sense since his job is… talking, yeah. He's from a group that does t-"
"Would you like to join the army?" Asked Sarah.
…
She had seen Shady Sands under many, many, many angles. Was it a beautiful city? Obviously! The trees were numerous. The jobs were safe. The sky was always the right shade of blue or yellow during odd days, and there were plenty of vehicles around the wealthier parts of it. Was it like in those old pictures of Pre-War towns that they would see in school? No. The mightiest buildings in Shady Sands would look small amidst the steel titans of the Old World. But it was still the closest thing to them.
Outside, innocent people were blighted by food or water shortage in other settlements. They would not set a foot out, fearful of dying at the hands of a mutated monstrosity. Those who weren't occupying important positions were given shoddy weapons and leather armor and sent to" guard" the town against gangs of roving brutes equipped with metal armor and rifles. These" raiders" were not looking to trade or take any resource and leave. More often than not, they'd destroy the food, stain the water and then rape and kill everyone inside before leaving to inflict a similar fate upon another community.
In Shady Sands? People were looking to pay their taxes or simply had petty things to care about, like getting rid of that annoying co-worker to take up their position. Or how to keep themselves entertained in the middle of work. Oh, of course, some jobs required people to leave Shady Sands, but the Core Regions were incredibly safe! Raiders were all but exterminated, the most dangerous beasts were safely culled, and more regular lawbreakers were imprisoned or shot to death, relatively often.
This left those like her, who never left the Core Regions, at odds with the world described by travelers. She just couldn't relate to the good people struggling to even live. Of course, she had empathy for their plight, but it was such at odds with her way of life in the city that she had trouble understanding her. And a few times, Max sought to see the Wasteland with her own eyes. But a little voice only she could hear often told her that it was a privilege, to be born in such a haven in a chaotic world and that her duty was to find a steady job and die of old age." What's a city rat like you gonna do to the dangerous world outside?" Or so she told herself.
But the boredom was eating away at her. She could only take so many jobs, be refused to go to prospection sites so many times before it all became the same. Even if the outside world was dangerous, how long could she spend her life in that gilded cage, living and dying in the shadows of the same trees? She could leave. Go to The Hub. Vault City, maybe. But then the boredom would set in again.
It was a paradoxical pull. The pragmatic side of her practically yelled that it was stupidly dangerous. That she'd be eaten and spat out in the first day or whatever. She had no gun experience, hardly enough money to buy a good one or even armor, no friends, and no experience. Her work kept her in shape, maybe, but surely she would be aware of the dangers, right?
The idiotic side simply called the other a pussy, which was compelling enough of an argument.
"I'm home." Max opened the door to her apartment and closed it behind her quickly enough. It was nothing fancy… by Shady Sands standards. But a settler from much farther east would surely disagree: The walls were clean and gore-free. The lamps were working at total capacity, and the table was made out of actual wood from fallen trees, or so said the vendor. Her dad had brought it to" sell it in emergencies," as he put it, only to discover that everyone in the city owns one or so. Nevertheless, it was more than most had outside, wood or not wood.
"Max?" Her brother peeked out at her from the kitchen and sighed." Took you some more time than I thought. What were you up to? Finding a new job?" Both siblings were quite similar to their mother, said those who knew her. She had quite the sharp chin and nose at the very least, and her eyes were" wide as a saucer," though they both had yet to figure out precisely what a saucer is. They inherited the hair color from their father and his pretty thick eyebrows and thin lips. Not that the hair color was particularly relevant for a bald man. She secretly feared a similar fate for her own hair, currently growing into a short neck-length bob.
Coyly, Max put her hands behind her back, doing her best devious smirk." Hm? Yeah, I'd say I've got a new job." She teased." Wanna guess it, Conrad?" His smile faded slightly, and she saw his eyes dart around before he focused on her.
"Let me guess. You're in the army." He spoke at a lower volume than before.
"Wroonngggg!" Answered his sister, and visible relief appeared on his face." Haha, guess what? I'm... I'm…" Max stopped and blinked, now fully taking in everything around her." W-wow you actually… huh, guessed right. That's… not what I expected. You're smart, Conrad!" The panic came right back to his face, and he shook his head in disapproval.
"Because you mean well, but you often do... not very smart things. Sometimes, you fall for a get-rich-quick scheme. At other times, you forget where your workplace is at. Or you decide to leave the safety of the capital to go fight Kimball's pointless war in the fucking Mojave, probably the most dangerous place in this part of the continent." She was amazed at how angry he sounded while still keeping a calm tone. He even glanced at the dining room, close to the kitchen, before looking back at her.
"Dad's thing was a bust. And it pays well!" They moved over to the kitchen, keeping relatively quiet. She could still see Christian peek at them from afar, at least before Conrad moved to close the door. Meanwhile, his sister walked further into the small room, picking up a Canterbury steak and biting into it fiercely." Hrm night… It… hrm…" She decided to just finish chewing, giving him the time to position himself far away from the door." I'm getting paid even if I spend the day guarding some post in the ass-end of nowhere; it's pretty cool. And all that money's getting sent to you!"
"Right. They'll hurl you at the Legion on the first day." He replied, folding his arms and leaning against a wall." We barely know how the Wasteland outside works, and you want to go to a part of it that's a warzone? Without any training?" Max opened her mouth, preparing to reply, but he immediately took over." Because that's what they do, you know? They put you in a uniform, give you a gun if you're lucky, and off you go."
"Well, I was told there'd be training." Mumbled Max, already falling on the defensive." But… I'll already get you fifty dollars once I'm in. If you don't listen to dad too much, you should be fine for a while. I'll also give you the rest of my income since I won't need it. And it's one mouth that you won't be feeding anymore."
"This isn't about money, Max. It's about my sister dying in some forever war to Vegas." He held his hand out, pointing east." It's been five years! Five years of conflict, and people like you volunteering, for what?"
"The NCR deserves to be in the region. Many of our citizens are here and…." He sighed, and Max took two steps forward, irritated." We can't just pull out! Vegas's a beacon of civilization! If the Legion gets to the Dam, they'll just blow it up! Just… just think about the people who live in that region! All of our countrymen who are visiting it! Some of our friends went there!"
"So you're going to go there and sacrifice yourself for some wastelanders who couldn't give less of a shit? They dislike the soldiers of the NCR because we're here to take over the region!" He too, approached, his impatience seeping through the cracks in his stoic façade." It's not about bringing lights or stopping evil! It's about conquest! We're fending off the Legion because they're infringing on our interest, but once they're gone, and that'll take a while. We'll just turn around and do exactly as Caesar would do! We'll conquer them!" Realizing that he was getting heated up, Conrad took a step backward and sighed, pressing his right hand against his face." … Look. This isn't a great adventure, see? You're not toppling an evil regime; if anything, you're aiding it. And… and let's say, Caesar… get a brain tumor and dies." Max shrugged at that.
"What happens? The Legion falls back, Vegas falls under the NCR's jurisdiction, and then you're sent further East. Or you go out looking for the last Brotherhood bunkers in the west. Either way, you're not going home. And I don't want to spend the rest of my life fearing for you out there. Knowing that, at any point, you could die, it's… it's too much for me. And for Dad, too. We're safe here, Max. Why'd you wanna leave? I can help you find a job; I know some guys…."
"I can do something of value, at least." She answered. He remained confused and slightly vexed that she replicated so quickly." If I just stay there, what will I do with my life? Am I supposed to work until I'm too old to do anything? Do I just keep running after people that dad pissed off so that maybe they'll take pity on me? Being a soldier will give me the ability to at least matter!" Conrad's eyes widened in brief surprise, but he didn't reasonably intervene." I know. I'm in over my head. But I have to learn new skills and travel! And… well, maybe the NCR will just take over, but it'll be better than if the Legion wins. It'll make this world a better place, at least. One where people worry about… taxes, and not raiders. Where they can wake up not wondering if they'll get to make it to the end of the day. And I can be a part of that! I'll matter much more as a soldier than as a simple civilian and occasional Brahmin farmer!"
"You matter, Max, don't you dare think that… Hrm… Listen, if you were feeling like that previously, why didn't you tell me? You… you matter, sis! You don't need to be a part of the army to have worth!" He sighed again and took his glasses off to pinch the bridge of his nose." … Fine, then. From the way you talk, you seem to be buying it for real." Max half-smiled, a little bit hurt that she couldn't fully convince him, but glad that it was over nonetheless." But you do get why I'm reluctant, right? I'm not trying to stop you from doing good. But you need to know what's in store for you out there. As your brother, I can't just tell you… Sure, go ahead! Fight those rapist slavers and rabid raiders so that we can become more of a sick hegemonic empire at the end!"
"I know, but I'll make it back. I promise." She held her hand out, and he gripped it after a few seconds of hesitation." When things get tough, I'll know that you're back home and that your life is all the more manageable thanks to what I do." They let go, and Max sighed." … Huh, and I'll say hello to Andrew if I see him. Heard he's out to" rob the casinos." She concluded with a much brighter smile.
"Andrew went there?" He scoffed." Urgh, I almost pity the Legionaries."
Convincing her dad to let her go, though the soldier-in-waiting would've left regardless, was much easier than for her brother. He looked up from his meal, at best, and shrugged. "Don't get shot first."
The dinner had been so awkward that when Max woke up in the morning, she packed her things and departed without a word.
Thankfully enough, recruitment stations were all over Shady Sands, so it was easy enough for her to walk in and toss Sarah's card over to the counter with pathos. The clerk, an unfortunate young man, immediately looked up.
"I'd like to volunteer… to become a part of the NCR's army!" The auburn-haired girl stood proudly, placing one hand on her hip while carrying her bag with the other, but deflated when the clerk just yawned.
"A-ah! But… It's 5:50 AM, ma'am! Come back in ten minutes!"
…
"RUN, YOU PUSSIES! I'M GONNA RAPE YOU IF YOU DON'T! FUCKING RUUUNNNNNNNNNNN!" bellowed the" Legionary" behind the recruits, speeding his way to them. Max looked back at the panicking troops of NCR recruits, desperately trying to outrun their commanding officer, and was glad not to be amongst them again. Unlike what her brother had told her, there was training for NCR troops. It's just that she had been told that it would last a week but that some of the best instructors of the Republic were there to ensure that the fresh recruits would be killing machines by the end of the week.
She didn't quite know if they were the best, but they had some… methods to them. The second one was Instructor Krapickle, though right here, right now, he was the" fuckin' legionary" (sic) out to torment and kill the brave troops of the NCR. The man had dressed up in a suit of armor, looted from the corpse of a fallen foe, and had put it on before promptly running at his troops. Their goal was to run around the circular field two times, lest they get caught by him. And while he had ensured that the slowest troops would only need to run and run in circles until they get better at running, his… enthusiasm with roleplaying was evident to all. To gain such enthusiasm, Krapickle must've extracted it all from his sworn ally's very soul.
"If you don't complete these two turns before one minute, the fiend's gonna eat the baby." He deadpanned. Like Krapickle, Instructor Balzer was wearing armor. However, he only had bothered to put on the skull-helmet of the infamous Fiends, chem-addicted raiders with energy weapons that were causing troubles amongst the fine people of Outer Vegas. He held a baby doll in one hand and the timer in the other, lazily standing at the finishing line. Max was going so fast that she barely heard him, but she was aware of the goal: Complete the" race" in two turns before one minute would pass. Arduous, but as she was set to prove, not impossible.
"EXCELLENT WORK, DOLEETLE!" Screamed Krapickle, swiveling his head around to stare at her. He seemed almost surprised that she was the first in the race beneath the wraps of fabric on his face. The trainee couldn't entirely blame him; even she was astonished at how well she was doing, running in front of everyone like that." BUT DON'T GET TOO COMFORTABLE! RUNNING WELL IS ONLY USEFUL IF YOU'RE FLEEING A FIGHT, AND THAT'S STRAIGHT TO THE EXECUTION GROUNDS IF I CATCH YOU DOING THAT!"
"H-huh… Of course, sir!" Saluted Max, keeping the pace as well as she could.
…
"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS BEETLE?! THE NCR ISN'T AT WAR WITH THE GODDAMN DIRT AIM HIGHER UP SOLDIER! AT THE LEGIONARY!" Krapickle seized her gun and angled it upwards, in the direction of the Legionary dummy that she and other soldiers were shooting at. The auburn-haired woman nodded in agreement and aimed a little, adjusting her head to look through the iron sights and closing her right eye to aim better. She wouldn't fire until she was sure that every bullet would hit, or so Max thought: Before she could try to shoot at the head, the loud footsteps of Krapickle echoed again, and her gun was once more seized.
Strangely enough, he looked more intimidating wearing her own nation's uniform. It was probably because of all these scars that he had over his face. The man had seen action, and he wasn't ashamed of it. Everything, from the cross-shaped slash on his throat to the long claw marks over his right eye, worried her a little. She'd ask who gave it to him but feared that he'd just yell, which he was already about to...
"JUST BECAUSE YOU CAN'T SHOOT THE GROUND DOESN'T MEAN YOU NEED TO AIM FOR THE SKY SOLDIER! . !"
"The head." Max replied, almost immediately." It will take me fewer bullets if I-" He got right up to her face, and it took all of her strength not to fall on her back in sheer fright.
"SOLDIER, YOU ARE NOT 1ST RECON MATERIAL! NOT NOW! NOT IN FIVE YEARS! NOT IN TEN YEARS! AIM FOR THE CENTER OF MASS! TEN BULLETS TO THE TORSO THAT'LL STOP LEGION SCUM DEAD IN ITS TRACKS! DON'T EVEN TRY TO HIT THE LIMBS UNTIL YOU HAVE MORE EXPERIENCE!"
"I-I see, I will-"
"NO, YOU WON'T! BECAUSE WE HAD THIS DISCUSSION A MINUTE EARLIER! FOR EVERY BULLET THAT YOU MISSED –AND I'LL HAVE YOU KNOW YOU MISSED PLENTY- YOU'lL DO ME TWO PUSH-UPS!" He stepped back and held his hand high, prompting the others to stop. Amazingly enough, his voice had covered all the gunfire from earlier." THE GUN RUNNERS SPEND THEIR WEEKS WORKING ON THESE BULLETS DOLEETLE! THEY WORK TIRELESSLY IN EXHAUSTING CONDITIONS TO GIVE YOU THE RIFLE AND THE BULLETS, SOLDIER! THEY LOVINGLY CRAFT THOSE LITTLE BALLISTIC LOVE LETTERS JUST FOR YOU TO WASTE THEM SHOOTING AT DIRT! WAKE UP, SOLDIER! YOU WILL EMPTY YOUR MAGAZINE INTO THAT DUMMY AND THEN GIVE ME TWENTY MINIMUM! AND TO COACH YOU… VARZI! GET DOWN HERE, SOLDIER!"
A woman lowered the smoking barrel of her rifle and looked over at the two of them. Sighing, she carefully handed the weapon over to the next in line. As she approached, Max winced slightly and crouched, embarrassed at the situation and very much wishing that she could just shrink out of sight and vanish forever. The whole shooting range was silent, and everyone who wasn't some bullet fodder dummy was looking at her.
"Sir?" The trainee stopped a few feet ahead and saluted. She was slightly taller than Max and slightly thicker build, with larger arms than Max's little sticks. She had her brown hair in a neat military buzzcut and sunglasses pinned to the collar of her outfit. However, it was otherwise the same khaki tunic as the others.
"Your eyes seem to be working." Spoke Krapickle, now much calmer. Her ears could only be grateful." You're going to coach Doleetle! And see what her beef with the ground is all about! Got it, soldier? And ensure that she does some little exercise! Seems like she could use some weight on her arms! Once you're done, you'll meet up for the hand-to-hand training, so don't be slow either, huh?" Max moved to speak up, not wishing for another soldier to be delayed because of her. Still, the other woman swiftly moved her hand to cover her mouth, stopping her protest before it could even be formed.
"Understood, sir!" Satisfied, the instructor left without much ado, walking over to a bit of table outside to fetch himself a glass of purified water. Once he was gone, the woman turned to look at Max and lowered her hand." Ok, show me how you hold the rifle. Don't shoot. Just keep it like you're trying to get someone to back down." Max, as if compelled, immediately did as ordered. She first grasped the forestock with her left hand and held more firmly with her right hand, though she had the sense to keep her finger off the trigger for now. Carefully moving the butt of the gun over to the front of her right shoulder, the soldier moved her head to the right side until the soldier was looking down the iron sights. Then, she closed her left eye… and was brought back to reality when Varzi gently grasped the gun so as not to startle the woman with a rifle before settling it down.
"That's good, but keep your eyes open. Both of them." As she spoke, many of the other soldiers started to leave. Max didn't care much. She was welcoming the lack of distractions if anything." It's almost automatic to only use one, but in battle, you'll need to be ready for anything. Can be a charging Legionary, or a raider popping out of cover, even a soldier in danger."
"I understand, but it's a bit difficult, no? To have to register all that, and-"
"Well, you're going to need to. Battles are chaotic, and you'll certainly have to fight these bastards at a close range, so you need to be aware of your surroundings. Now… We'll do it the BRASS way. Breathe. Don't hold it up since you're going to deprive your muscles of the oxygens they need. Inhale, and when you exhale, fire a couple of shots. Relax, be firm, but not too rigid when holding your gun. Aim. Make it so that the sights are properly aligned before the target's even in your field of view. For instance, sight is for having a specific point to aim at, like the torso. Ya have to know where you shoot at, got it? Don't try to be too fancy. Headshots are nice, and you should go for them if you're confident. Still, bullets to the torso will hurt anything not too armored and is a reliable way to hit the enemy. Squeeze the trigger with your finger. You should put your finger a little bit further. Then… go for short bursts. Full-on fire can get tough, and the recoil can be hard to handle. Fire three bullets at once, then pause, take the time to readjust your aim, and fire again."
"Can I do all of that in a fight? It sounds… great!" Said Max." But-"
"There's no T for Talk. Shoot at the dummy in controlled bursts. Do it until the magazine's empty."
Max did as she was told. She carefully aimed for the dummy's torso and then fired three bullets in a burst. To her surprise, all three shots went on to hit their target dead-center. More than a little glad, the younger woman readjusted her aim and shot again… missing this time. Two bullets sped past the false legionary and into the aether, prompting her to swear.
"Don't panic. Just shoot."
And she did. Firing a gun was an unusual experience for her: She's held them before when she had to guard some ranch, but she never had needed to fire them. It was challenging to keep a good grip on the rifle when the sound alone was so startling, but complaining would get her nowhere, so she shut that off to the side and focused on aiming. Every bullet that hit its target was a minor victory for her. Every projectile that missed was just an unfortunate mistake… and about two push-ups.
"Just focus… BRASS, right." The bullets flew. By the end, she could almost swear that only half of them were missing! Click went the barrel, empty before she even knew it. Out of habit, she squeezed the trigger a few more times, then lowered it." Aw, I still missed a good deal of those…." The soldier turned towards her coach, who was nodding approvingly." Well, at least half of the bullets will be accurate, right?"
Varzi snorted; it vaguely sounded like a chuckle." That's still more accurate than the average trooper. But don't worry. Even those guys at First Recon missed more often than not before they got good." The taller woman crossed her arms." You'll get there… Or not. Only five days before you get assigned." She grimaced." Still, more time than most of these guys will ever get."
"Is that true? My brother also told me so." Max bite on her lips, lightly unnerved that he'd been right. "But the training seems… pretty efficient, right?" She suggested, with an hopeful smile.
"You just can't get a farmhand to become a killing machine in one week." She replied, looking down at the ground and stamping out some of the bullets." But you know, at least the other inspector cares. He wouldn't have grilled you that hard if he didn't." Max blushed slightly.
"He could've been quieter…." The other soldier stepped forward and placed her hand on Max's shoulder.
"Heh, he's preparing you. If you can't handle some yelling, the people out in the Mojave will kill ya… If the mutated freaks don't do it first." She grumbled." Fucking Cazadores…"
Max raised an eyebrow. "The Mojave might be dangerous… and filled with radioactive beasts… and madmen, but… Well, well, we're here for them, right?" The coach raised her left eyebrow in ponder." To kill them, I mean."
"Hm. They don't often thank you, though. And the madmen sure tend to be in positions of authority over there."
"O-oh right. Well, I'm here to just… see more of the world, ya know? Well, the money matters a lot too, but I've never left the Core Regions. I'd like to see the world outside. It's violent, maybe, but hey! I can't just lead a sheltered life, right? Besides, those people need us! If we do nothing, it's the Legion that's gonna get them. And they're pretty… awful."
"You believe in that talk of making the Mojave a better place, huh ?" Summarized Varzi, looking astonished. She smirked, like a parent listening to whatever young absurdity their children would say to explain the world around them."That's nice. Too many folks in here for the cash."
Max stammered a little."W-well, the money's nice too but-"
"AHAH! Here it is!" Said her interlocutor, immediately waging her finger at Max as if she had just caught her doing something illegal." Don't feel the need to lie to me. We've all got our reasons for going to that place. I'm just going to need to make my reason your reasons… and teach you some life lessons." She turned around, seized the gun, and went to place it on the little wooden chest in the middle of the firing ranger." Everyone's in that goddamn desert will be a danger to you. They don't want or need your help. So just keep your gun close to yourself, kill some friends while they're busy overdosing, and maybe go play blackjack at the casinos." Varzi took each weapon as she spoke and checked them, carefully keeping the barrels out of her face. Sometimes, she'd turn the safety on or would take off a magazine. "And get home rich."
Max smiled dumbly as the woman got closer to her. She disagreed with the idea of treating even the innocent wastelanders as a potential source of danger, evidently. Still, Varzi was nonetheless a fascinating woman. "Oh, the casinos! I'd love to go there!" She said, hoping to get to an exciting part.
"Just don't go to the Gomorrah!" Laughed Varzi." Heh, what's your name, private? I think I like you. You're a bit… dumb and sheltered, but that's what makes it fun!"
"Oh, I'm Max! Max Doleetle! Pleased to meet you!" She held out her hand. Varzi stared at it ever so briefly before shaking it, smirking slightly.
"Emma Varzi. You can call me Emma. Not Em. Not yet… I'd say that this could be the beginning of a friendship, but you're about to hate me soon enough." She tapped the side of her head." Drop and give me… fuckshouldvecountedthem… fifty. Yeah. Down and give me fifty, private!"
"Ah fuck."
…
A package Courier found shot in the head near Goodsprings has reportedly regained consciousness and made a full recovery.
…
Hello! This is my first Fallout fic. It portrays the life of a common NCR soldier through the Mojave and the things that happen to them along the way. I hope you liked this chapter; there's undoubtedly more to come!
I may have taken some lore liberties, but I hope to remain accurate! I hope you'll like my take on the Fallout universe and its characters. While I intend to use original characters, some canon ones will show up along the way! And as for the Courier… Well, he's not the star of this show, but you'll get to see why in a couple of chapters!
Leave out reviews; I love having them!
I'll try to publish every Saturday night or so, but it may change! I guess that it's something that can change.
See you later, alligator!