Tuesday, October 26
7:00 pm - Drinks with Fox Company Go 108th!
(Probability of us getting drunk and singing "The Snows of Anchorage" 5 times - 110%)
Nora said she was always proud of me for participating in the Anchorage and China campaigns.
Today was the day where he was supposed to deliver his speech, the one he spent so much time meticulously crafting in a war time America, which desperately needed good news on the homefront.
That, and wouldn't want to say anything politically inappropriate for our current times…
A speech like that meant nothing when hidden behind curtains sheltering the idea of war.
This wasn't how he imagined his life going. Firstly he didn't expect his house to get nuked, which was in retrospect an overly optimistic assumption considering the fragile state of the world back then. He also expected Vault - Tec to offer quality Fallout shelters. Not freeze everybody and kill them in some sort of sick experiment.
"... You see, Vault - Tec is the foremost builder of the state-of-art underground Fallout shelters!"
My ass
Thirdly, and perhaps most importantly, he didn't expect to be a broken widower. Nora and Shaun. They were his life. His purpose. The first time he held his child, it made all the death and suffering found in the terrible war he fought worth.
"This is the one"
"At least we still have the backup"
Those words echoed in his head over and over again. The image of the man who had murdered his wife and abducted his baby son burned into his tearful eyes. The bullet had severed her brachial artery, dying of blood loss shortly after. His beautiful fucking wife was murdered infront of his very own eyes and he couldn't do anything.
He could've just dropped there and expired, but that wasn't how a man was supposed to act. A man on a mission, the image of the individual who ruined his life imprinted in his eyes forever. He clutched the holotope.
Bald, with a scar and soon with a bullet between his eyes.
Nate swallowed. It was best to get some rest and keep moving. The nights were dark in the Commonwealth, any source of light would easily attract unwanted attention.
He scratched his stubble and checked his pip boy;
8:58 PM read the digital clock.
The pinnacle in personal computing, packing an incredible punch for its size and weight. Nate was fascinated by how quickly computing power advanced in the decades leading up to the great war. Not even pursuing a degree at CIT saved him from being commissioned after graduation.
Taking the last sip from his canteen, he eyed the marked location on his pip boy. According to descriptions given to him, 'DIAMOND CITY' was nothing more than former Fenway park.
That was his next goal, and reaching it before pitch darkness was of critical importance.
9:00 PM
It was time to get moving. Exactly twelve hours ago, he emerged from the Vault. From the beaming sunshine blinding his eyes to being left in the vulnerable night. Nate turned to his newfound companion, man's best friend.
12 Hours ago
"Sir I suggest you go to Concord, perhaps the locals can help you?" The mister handy robot, which surprisingly managed to withstand a nuclear fucking fallout suggested.
Codsworth had been the single best investment Nate and Nora had made in their marriage, an incredibly versatile robot capable of nearly every single task imaginable, especially childcare was something neither Nate nor Nora expected.
A solemn reunion, Codsworth featured advanced and rich programming in the form of incredibly sophisticated subroutines. Yet none of that prepares you for attempting to get wiped off the surface of the earth.
The holotape Codsworth gave him was now the only real remaining piece of Nora and Shaun that was left.
Locals?
"What kind of Locals are you talking about?" Nate quizzically asked. There must've been more survivors. In the same way as grass and vegetation finds its way around whatever man made construction there is, humanity somehow always finds a way to prevail. Even if faced with nuclear destruction.
"Oh the few times I've been there, they only pummeled me with sticks and tried to shoot me" In a newly extra fucked up world like this, Nate could easily put two and two together, meaning that there would always be someone willing to kill someone else over a can of meat.
Of course, with surviving a nuclear fallout, comes a mental breakdown. That was included in Nate's care package after waking up. Utter denial was the only pathetic thing he could muster after his butler robot delivered the crippling news: the biggest shock was figuring out he was 210+ years in the future, where the new currency was bottle caps. He might as well have used paper cash to wipe his ass from how valueless it was. Not that much had changed in that aspect, inflation was starting to get out of control before the bombs had dropped.
The newly minted sole survivor of (the ill fated) Vault one - eleven!
With Codsworth's suggestion being the only lead Nate had, he decided to make his way to Concord. Along the way he passed along the Red Rocket he and Nora had visited so many times when late night snack cravings creeped in.
"Awww… what're you doing out here all alone?" Nate petted the German shepherd who approached him. Initially weary, Nate figured he wasn't feral and as his combat experience had proven, man's best friend was an incredibly valuable addition, both in and out of combat.
"Well, you can tag along if you feel like it…" Nate said as the dog jumped in circles, waving his tail in excitement.
With his new canine friend, he hiked a bit more until the sound of gunfire caught him entering the town.
"I'm too old for this shit…" Nate grumblled as he unslinged his rifle.
Apparently there was a group of raiders laying siege to the former Museum of Freedom. With their backs turned, they were easy target practice for a hardened veteran with extensive combat experience. The feeling of holding a heavy rifle, the recoil and force produced when controlling a fully automatic weapon felt weird, strangely unfamiliar, despite it having been Nate's bread and butter during four long years.
Without much hesitation, Dogmeat immediately pinned one of the raiders making him easy picking for Nate. After realizing that they were being shot in the back, several raiders charged him.
"You gon' pay for what ye did!" A female Raider shouted while charging him with what looked like a pipe. The swing missed, her brains being splattered over the road leading up to the museum. The last of the group quickly fell when a man wearing a colonial uniform evaporated them with a laser musket.
"Hey up here! Get into the museum and lend us a hand, please!" He pleaded from the balcony, desperation evident in his voice.
Storming the museum, there was more gunfire as several stragglers had made it inside. They were nice and distracted, allowing Nate to take down a couple of them without them realizing.
Close quarters combat, it all comes back like muscle memory, doesn't it?
To his surprise, the museum was still intact, featuring historical uniforms, weaponry and the oh so prevalent pre - war anti communist propaganda.
Reaching the top floor where the survivors were trapped, Nate quickly dispatched the last raider by blasting him through the chest, causing him to lose balance and fall three stories down into the basement, just as Dogmeat caught up. During all the firefight, he had completely forgotten how loud combat really was.
"Ho-ly shit!" The man he had just saved impressively said as he flinged his laser musket back on his shoulder. It looked like he was wearing a… colonial duster alongside a Minuteman hat?.
He proudly extended his right hand out for a handshake. "Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen".
"Uh, Nate Howard. Pleasure to meet you?" Nate replied, walking into the room. There were several survivors, non combatants who curiously eyed their savior. "So you're a soldier of some sorts?" He questioned, genuinely curious if there was any semblance of a military force remaining.
"I guess you could say so," Preston chuckled, "I'm with the Minutemen. We were a militia, until a massacre left us all dead… all dead except me. I lead this group - " He gestured to the people in the room. " - of settlers out of Quincy". He declared while taking a seat on a patty couch.
Nate took a look around the room. Poor fucking souls.
"We got no time to waste, for all we know more raiders could've heard the shots and be on their way here. Sturges, hook him up!"
A man wearing a technician outfit turned around from his terminal, saying something about retrieving a fusion core from the basement in order to power up some abandoned power armor on the roof, that and a minigun only usable when you had the strength of a power armor wearing brute. Apparently, that was their ticket out of there.
"We're currently trying to make our way to Sanctuary, figuring it is up north, safe and well isolated. First we ran into the ghouls in Lexington, and now this, please you need to help us" A young man wearing a white shirt spoke up, while the rest of the group hopefully looked into Nathan's brown eyes.
Barely an hour into this whole ordeal, and he was already helping other people when he couldn't even help his own sorry ass. Not that there were any other options, so Nate retrieved the fusion core and headed up the roof to power up the armor. The make and model was a rusty old T - 45. The earliest version, primitive in design, but it got the initial job done. Personally, he never was a fan of them. Maintaining them was time consuming, but being in one was even worse. The fusion core in the back meant you were a giant slow moving target for snipers.
As Nate popped the fusion core in and entered the armor, its systems booted up and the automated mechanical voice exclaimed:
'INITIALIZING SYSTEM DIAGNOSTICS.
HYDRAULICS. CHECK.
ELECTRONICS CHECK.
ASSESSING DAMAGE,
RIGHT HAND, LEFT LEG.
FUEL LEVEL:
CRITICAL'
The suit's lid closed automatically as Nate ripped the Minigun from the downed vertibird. Jumping from the roof to the street was child's play as power armor shielded you from nearly any type of fall damage.
"More of them are on their way!" Preston shouted from the balcony, cranking two shots into his musket.
Out of the blue, raiders started appearing at the end of the street. They weren't very wise in trying to charge down a power armor, minigun-wielding pre - war soldier fueled by rage and anger, as Nate easily filled them with a hail of bullets.
Just as he thought he was done with all of them, a mutated lizard looking creature jumped out of the sewers. It'd be the type of shit one would expect to see in a typical 70's horror movie. Big, ugly, huge legs, claws on his fucking arms and enourmous horns portruding from his head.
"SHIT!" The Vault Dweller screeched as the deathclaw picked up an old corvega model car, throwing it in his direction. The ferocious beast tried grabbing another vehicle before Nate turned from a ruined house, firing at the car causing a massive explosion which sent its guts flying in all directions.
"Ho-ho! That was one hell of a show!" Preston satisfyingly shouted from the balcony as Nate walked back, wiping his visors from deathclaw gut. With just enough fusion core power remaining, he headed back to the group he just met.
"What the fuck was that!" Nate shouted once he entered the museum's lower floor, where the group had gathered.
"That… was a deathclaw. Mutated abominations found within the wasteland. You run into one of these, and your journey is over. Although you did get creative taking that thing down. Their skin is nearly impenetrable to any sort of small arms caliber." The Minuteman complimented. "So" Preston sighed while pulling off his dirty, combat worn gloves. "What is your story?".
Nate was reluctant to tell the life changing events he faced in the last 24 hours to a complete stranger. But he seemed trustworthy, genuine and legitimate. A trait that was probably too rare at all to find in the Wasteland. Paired with the good ideals of a revolutionary man, Nate figured he could open. Maybe he was naive, maybe he was desperate, but this was the first human being, who didn't want to shoot him at least, he had met outside the wasteland.
"I… I-I was frozen in the local Vault, in the year 2077. Some guy came into the Vault, shot my wife and abducted my child."
The group of survivors stayed silent. "That is… messed up." Garvey managed to reply, visibly showing concern and empathy as he removed his hat and pressed it against his chest. "We should head to Sanctuary then" he turned to his group of ragtag survivors.
Suddenly, the eldest member of the group stood up and, like a prophecy declared "Kid… I saw you in the Vision. Dogmeat, " She gestured to the mutt. "I knew he would bring us the savior of the 'Wealth'
Woah there, getting ahead of us a bit aren't we?
"I sense your son, " she continued. "He's alive".
"What?! I need anything, any lead, any sort of hint…" Nate swallowed tight.
"Diamond City has your answers kid. But they're locked up tight. The Vision can only last that long, until you bring me more chems, I'm afraid I wont-"
"Enough! Mama Murphy, I told you to lay off those Chems!" Preston sternly replied. Scolding the elderly woman for her use of drugs.
Turning back to the Vault Dweller, Preston gave a couple of directions to what he called the 'Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth'.
"It's a hike to the south, fortified with big green walls. It is the Commonwealth's largest settlement. Any lead, you're bound to find it there first".
Fenway park
The sight of Nate and Nora's first date. Boston Red Socks would take victory after victory. And now? His baseball stadium had apparently been turned into some sort of improvised shantytown of a city.
"Thank you Preston. I wish you and your group luck. You're a good man, I can tell that." He extended his arm to the Minuteman.
Preston would've asked if Nate was interested in heading up to Sanctuary with him, but figuring he had more important business to attend to, he evidently didn't. If only men in the Commonwealth were as brave and honorable as the one they had just met, maybe then the Minutemen wouldn't have fallen apart. For Preston one thing was clear, Nate would be their best shot they would have for now at rebuilding.
"The same thing can be said about you, Nate" Preston firmly returned the handshake. It's the sort of handshake and firm grip Nate would only experience with men who had gone through war. "You are free to join us at Sanctuary whenever you want. We will be rebuilding the place and hopefully turning it into a settlement of its own". He proudly added, and with that, they bid farewell.
"Alright buddy, I think it's about time we get going" Nate patted Dogmeat on the head and got up. According to his pip boy, the city was still a good one and half to two hour walk away, and with the night setting in, reaching the safety of the city was his first objective.
What Nate didn't know is that one often meets their destiny on the path they take to avoid it.
AN/ This story was originally published August 2017. I imagine none of you original followers are here anymore. Will follow original plot, with quite a few changes however, FO4 was too PG14 for being a wasteland survival game. Rated M for extreme situations.
Chapter originally published November 15th 2021, revised October 8th 2022.