In the Shadow of the Valley: Background tales

by Desert Ranger Caracal

Welcome to the initial writings of the AU, where you ought to begin before moving to the main series. The stuff here is pretty darn violent but well written, in my opinion at least. Note, the last five tales are first drafts without editing. If you want to provide editing help, PM me. Otherwise, feel free to tell me what you think via reviews. I'm open to constructive criticism.

9. Reflections of 200 years passed

REFLECTIONS OF 200 YEARS PASSED: BY DESERT RANGER CARACAL.

LOCATION: GOODSPRINGS GRAVEYARD.

DATE: OCTOBER 23RD 2277.

TIME: 6:42 AM.

TEMPERATURE: 77°F OR 25°C.

Joseph stood silently in the goodsprings cemetery, holding a bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla in one paw, and in the other, a siddur composed entirely in hebrew by the community he came from. He seemingly felt the weight of what he was standing in, reflecting after two hundred years since the world drowned in nuclear fire.

His mind was a mix of differing emotions, some mournful, some angry, all intense. He took a sip of his bottle, and looked at the towering, crowing jewel of Vegas, the Lucky 38. He didn't yet know of its role in keeping the region rather clean of radiation, but he didn't care too much. He spat at it, even if he wasn't anywhere near close enough to hit it. To him, the pre-war capitalists were the lowest scum of the lot, the very progenitors of the war that lead to the world they had now.

As Joseph finished up his bottle of sarsaparilla, the caracal's mind let rip a pair of questions. What would have happened to to the hybrids had nuclear war not been declared, and would it be better had he never existed due to the hybrid mutants not being created? Those questions gave the ranger pause, especially the latter. He dropped the bottle with the other empty bottles, before sitting on the fence and sighing.

What's with this mind of his, always turning heavy questions on himself whenever big events come around? Well it's better to get it over with, face it head on and take it down. The first one was a lot easier for him to answer, most likely disposed of after service was completed had America won, had China won, he didn't know. They may have been more accepting, maybe they would have made them into a more warrior like set of species, who knows?

Whatever the case, that one was bobkes compared to the real daunting question. That one really made him think, taunting and dancing in his mind till he came with an answer. The world that existed before the great war was teetering on collapse, even had his species and the others like them never came to being, it probably would have drowned in nuclear fire all the same.

The only positive element to his species never being created would be had the great war never happened, and nuclear fire never had a chance to destroy the world in the first place. Oh well, he was here, and he had to commit to Tikkun Olam more seriously than ever in order to see a better world.

A minute later, the ranger stood, opening his siddur as he moved to the one page he could think to read from. The mourner's kaddish. Joseph cleared his throat, before beginning to read out loud for anyone nearby to hear.

As he poured himself out, the Blue Star went through a similar memorial service, most of the Mojave went about their days, and across the wasteland, in the ruins of Washington D.C. a 19 year old who had wandered out of Vault 101 into the wasteland, was trying to make an effort to help rebuild from the nightmare they saw.