War, war never changes. In the cold wasteland of Colorado, one and a half centuries after the atom bombs left their silos, civilization has struggled to stay afloat. Between the blizzard conditions, the spreading of the New California Republic, and the deadly beasts of the American Southwest, we've had our hands full.
It was only a few years back that I was able to form the settlement of Founder's Grave. Despite its name, it was the only real oasis of the snowy landscape we called home. We had clean water, well-cooked food, and steady trading lines. Raiders tried to bother us every now and again, but we had well-trained people living here, and a heavy defense perimeter made from old-war turrets.
Anyone could enter. We weren't afraid of outsiders as long as they were willing to help us keep the small town safe and secure. If anyone betrayed those expectations, they were put on trial by me and the rest of the people. If they were sentenced to death, I would shoot them on-site. If we had mercy that day, they would be released back into the wastes where they'd be left to survive on their own once again. But at least they'd be alive.
There came a day that would stick in mind for the rest of my life. It started with one of my citizens hurriedly opening my door, trying to catch his breath.
"Ma'am, we've got a situation at the gates," the older gentleman said.
"What kind of situation is that?" I asked in response.
"A group of raiders with a good handful of slaves is firing into the gate, demanding to see the leader of the town."
"That's a surprise. They're usually more than fine with anyone. Get the marksmen into position and I'll go meet them."
The gentleman nodded and walked off. I unlocked the lowest drawer of my office desk and pulled out my 14mm pistol. It shined against the dim glow of my desk light from the last time I put it back. I slipped a clip in, cocked it back, and holstered it. I got up, straightened my tie, and put on my dark brown suit jacket.
It was frowned upon for women to wear such attire, as it was generally associated with rich businessmen, but I liked to piss people off, so I elected to wear it as a symbol to the wasteland. A symbol that said: I don't give a shit about your expectations.
I took my time walking to the gates. The doors were sturdy, made from dismantled power armor we found quite some time prior. The streets were swept clean of the snow we got earlier in the day, and the houses to my sides rustled with anticipation from our visitors. The darkness of the night pierced the village, the stars being barely visible through the misty sky.
As I approached the doors, I heard the sound of their peashooters slamming against the other side. They started to open, and I unsheathed my pistol. Our lovely guests stopped firing and my view was graced by shackled men standing in a straight line. A raider with a deer skull adorning his head stepped forward, keeping a movement erratic enough to set others on edge. Fortunately, this wasn't our first rodeo.
"And who might this lady be?" the bastard asked.
"The name's Raven Powell," I responded. "What can I do for you fine folks tonight?"
"Maybe I just wanted to take your head. Add it to the collection."
He raised his gun, trying to get a rise out of me. I stood calmly in place, smirking at his intimidation tactics. A gunshot landed inches beside him, the sound of gunfire resounding into the settlement.
"If you're trying to scare me, you'll have to try harder than that. Now, what do you want?" I asked again.
The raider kept his weapon raised but gave an approving chuckle. He motioned back to his other men and they forced the slaves closer to the gate. The men groaned in pain; their bare feet blue from the cold they'd been trekking through.
"We wanted to offer you our most recent bounty. If you've got the caps, they're yours."
"Or, I could shoot you all now and free them without spending a single cap."
The others raised their guns at me and waited for the approval of their leader's first shot. I looked at the one in front of me, now angry at my words of defiance. I didn't take him seriously and raiders hated that.
"You pay for them, or you let us go. Those are the options, lady."
"And what if I think slavers like you deserve to die? We don't buy slaves from people like you. We liberate them."
Two gunshots echoed into forest adjacent the settlement and the two raiders near the slaves dropped dead, blood beginning to soak into the white powder beneath their bodies. The leader pulled his trigger and I had to act quickly to dodge the few shots he got off before my own bullets hit him hard in the chest and shoulder. He fell to the ground, quickly losing his ability to breathe.
I walked up to his convulsing body and spent another round putting him out of his misery. His gun dropped to the ground beside him and for a moment, there was silence. In the moments after, I had my men unchain the slaves and get them inside to warm up. In our shelter for new arrivals, they sat on benches, trying to keep their feet high and close to the warmth of the fires.
"Welcome to Founder's Grave," I said. "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. If you want to become a citizen, then we can talk about that tomorrow. For now, we'll get you some food and try to help with the frostbite."
"Thank you, ma'am," one of the men said. "We've been thinking true kindness didn't exist here anymore. I'm glad you proved us wrong tonight."
"It's my pleasure to help. What's your name?"
"Leonard, ma'am."
"And where were you before the slavers took you?"
"I was traveling with one of the exploratory NCR regiments when we were jumped. They had a lot more men before we fell, but they still overpowered us. They were more calculated than we're used to. Set up a real ambush."
"They don't have a choice here. It's cold and unwelcoming. Being savages only got them so far before, so they started using tactics. Even if they're only capable of basic stuff."
"Then we should definitely fix our expectations before coming out here in force."
"Well, if you want to warn the Rangers, we can send you back out there with some of our best survivalists, or you can stay here and become a citizen. I'll leave that up to you."
"If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to head out now. My feet didn't get too bad like the others. I want to warn them as soon as possible."
"If that's what you wish, then I'd be happy to oblige. I'll have my people put together a weapon and some ammo for you to be sent with. Your escorts will have a few days' worth of food, too, so you should be well off."
"Thank you again, ma'am. I won't forget this."
I nodded and did as I said. Three of my best readied themselves for the road and in only a half hour, we saw off the young NCR grunt. For the rest of the night, the city went silent, sleeping in comfort in the warmth of our homes.
In the morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of rotors and gunfire. The screams of my people filled my ears and I quickly made my way outside. Gunfire rained down, cutting down the citizens of my oasis. My buildings started to crumble with explosive payloads hitting their roofs and the paved streets. I ran back inside and took cover under my desk and after what seemed like ten minutes of getting pounded, the rotors drifted away out of earshot and the screams stopped.
My home crumbled around my desk and as I got up, the settlement came into focus. My buildings, my people, reduced to nothing. I scoured the wreckage, hoping to see anyone under the once-meticulously polished metal that once formed homes. Blood stained the road and the jagged steel. My stomach churned at the sight of kids' corpses impaled by metal beams.
Who did this? Why did they attack my home? What did I do to bring down the wrath of someone powerful enough to level my hard work? It didn't matter. Once I found out, they'd be dead all the same. At least a few of my people departed the night before. At least their corpses didn't add to the piles already there.
I grabbed what was left of our supplies. A heavy jacket to keep me warm, a pistol at my side, and a small pack full of food. I didn't care how long it would take me. All I cared about was getting vengeance on the fools who killed my people.