"Pay a man enough, and he'll walk bare foot into hell." - Talon Company Motto
Chapter 5: Recon
Defender Rockfowl grumbled as he set down his minigun next to him. The squad overlooked what used to be Bailey's crossroads, a metro entrance and plaza that was now crumbling in ruins like every other part of post-war D.C. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air, which came from the charred remains of a super mutant raiding party that had formerly set up shop in the area.
"Do you seriously think that they'll show up?" The Outcast knight said impatiently.
"They'll come, they didn't build their meddlesome reputation by passing up contacts." Casdin remarked indifferently, staring distantly into the ruins. Beside him was a squad of three Outcasts, each defender tense with weapons at the ready. Although they were not expecting another battle, it never hurt to be ready in the Capital Wasteland.
The Outcasts rarely ventured into the urban terrain, as it was heavily contested between the Mutants and the Brotherhood, and the Outcasts had neither the weaponry or manpower to challenge both. Yet, in this stretch of territory, Casdin knew the risk was worth it. Information was valuable, and with the current manpower shortages of the Outcasts, he had to find other means of obtaining it.
As he stared into the distance, he brought up his shortwave radio, which had been picking up the latest broadcasts Three Dog. Mostly it was just the usually pro-Brotherhood ramblings of the man, who was completely in Lyon's pocket. Scattered reports of Enclave activity up north and Super Mutant attacks, but another interesting tid bit as well.
T.T's team had been unsuccessful at reopening the entrance to Vault 101, unable to communicate with the inhabitants inside, or perhaps just finding them uncooperative. Although they had searched the nearby country, all signs of the vault dweller that had left 101 had vanished, until today...
"Got some great news out of the town of Megaton. Turns out that live atomic bomb in the town's center has finally been deep-sixed for good. The town's sheriff, one Lucas Simms, commissioned the one, the only Lone Wanderer from Vault 101 to disarm the nasty nuke, and the kid delivered. Hey, nice work, 101. Next time you're in the neighborhood, pop into the studio. Ol' Three Dog's toaster's been on the fritz..." Three dog then proceeded to utter some shameless propaganda about the Brotherhood soldiers, but by that point, Casdin turned the radio off.
Henry made a mental note of this though. Disabling an atomic bomb was no small feat, and whoever this person was, possessing such skills and knowledge could prove to be an asset, or a bane, to the Brotherhood. He kept this in mind, it could prove useful in the future. But for now, more important things had to be dealt with.
Twenty more minutes passed in the blazing sun before their contacts approached. At first blurred far off figures walking through a distant mirage. They sported heavy combat armor, pre-war, similar to Talon company, but they were a reinforced and dark green as well, with the official emblem of a four leaf clover etched on the chestplate. They were the best recon team in the wasteland, Reilly's rangers.
It was a five man squad, most of them armed with shotguns and rifles, although one of the mercenaries carried a distinctly large minigun, almost putting Defender Rockfowl's own to shame.
Casdin himself stepped forward, almost casually as though he were not standing between two heavily armed, tense and nervous groups of people.
He nodded towards one of the rangers, a red head, whom he presumed was Reilly. "Reilly's rangers I presume?"
Reilly herself seemed not the least bit intimidated or offended that Casdin didn't really bother with the formal introductions. She had seen too many varieties of clients to even bother caring, so long as the caps paid.
"At your service, now what can we do for you folks today?" She managed to make that lighthearted line sound serious, wastelanders were naturally defensive around the Brotherhood, for good reasons, and the Outcasts were no different.
Casdin began, "You should know by now what we need. Information. I want to contract your squad to scout the D.C ruins for us. As well as provide us with any geo-mapping data that you have already."
Reilly seemed to eye Casdin for a hard second, as though trying to gauge something from that emotionless power armored stare, but she nodded. "Reilly's rangers always honors our contacts. As long as we get the caps."
"Are you all assembled?" Casdin inquired.
"Not all of us, I have a four man squad with me right now, we're looking at mapping the White House district, but haven't been able to on account of the increased super mutants."
"And the Brotherhood?"
"They haven't been a bother to us, we leave them alone and they do the same."
"Which makes you the perfect candidate for our recon missions." Casdin threw Reilly a bag of caps. "Consider this a down payment, upload your geo-mapping data to us and more will follow. We will pay extra in tech and caps for any useful intel you can provide to us on what is going on downtown. Super mutant activity, Talon company, and the Brotherhood and such, but you are to tell no one about us."
Reilly smirked. "Of course not, who do you think we are? Talon Company?"
The mere mention of Talon company set Casdin in a bad mood. He had already ordered all Outcasts to shoot any Talon Patrol on sight.
"Do not take this job lightly. Our expectations are high for you and your squad." Casdin said finally, implying that the conversation was at an end. He turned to Rockfowl. "Come on, let's move out, we're exposed enough as it is."
"One question." Reilly asked, causing the band of Outcasts to pause in annoyance.
"Tread very carefully local." Defender Rockfowl replied.
Reilly, hardly intimidated, asked anyways. "What do you have against the Brotherhood?"
Casdin remained motionless, as though contemplating one way to say everything he felt was wrong with Lyons and his group, or perhaps controlling his hatred.
"Not that I really care to tell you, but it's the fact that Lyons turned our mission into a shit show." Casdin finally remarked.
"At least they're trying to do what you guys should've been doing from the start. I mean, they're helping out the people of this wasteland with their technology, isn't that one of your goals?" The ranger gave the Outcast Protector a stern look, bordering on reproach, but the blank gaze of Casdin's power armored helmet revealed nothing.
"You really know nothing about us then."
"I'm a Ranger ya know, I've been around long enough to know about you guys out west. Your wars with the NCR, The Steel Plague."
Henry did not seem the least bit phased by this accusation. "Just get to work."
Another hard stare came from Reilly, but eventually she nodded, there was no point in promoting a scuffle. She turned around without wasting another moment. "Come on Rangers, we have scouting to do."
Casdin watched as Reilly and her gang disappeared into the distance, taking one of the ruined metro entrances for convenience. There was some truth in her words, for the Brotherhood really had no interest of sharing it's technologies with the tribals and locals. At least for now. It would happen eventually, when the sacred work was done, and all that had been lost in the Great Atomic Fire had been recovered. But Henry knew that day was a long ways away, definitely after his lifetime. He shook his head with some pity towards these uncomprehending tribals.
Mankind was always impatient for change, to always have new technologies, new progress right now. But the fastest ways to implement change, in Casdin's mind, was one thing: War. War and the devastation it brings changes many things, it can bring about swift progress or the destruction of civilizations. Change had to happen over time, the Brotherhood understood that. Knew it was the only way for mankind to truly recover. They could not just share every discovery with a pack of rabid and uncivilized wastelanders. It would be squandered on them, and the sacred work would be set back by generations. If this generation of tribals could not see it, Casdin could care less. He had argued the same point with Lyons, and like the Ranger, the poor fools did not see it. His methods of bringing about change would result in nothing but more conflict to a land that was already destroyed by war.
"Let's move out Outcasts, we've got ground to cover."
"Do not be alarmed. Law and order will be restored shortly."
The protectron buzzed, just before it's central processing unit exploded into a million pieces, it's tin body falling lifelessly onto another pile of robots, all of them riddled with bullet holes and battle scars. Gunfire echoed through the hallways of the ancient Robco factory, as dozens of activated pre-war securitrons
"Ti...Tickets, please." A power armored boot quickly crushed the rest of the Protectron's head.
"J.T, How long do we have?" Protector Fitts yelled impatiently above the laser fire that roared down the hall. One door down the hall, Defender Colt finished loading his last microfusion cell into his Tri-laser rifle. He clicked the cell in place, waiting as the battery charged the weapon up. A red laser beam chipped at the concrete walls, burning near holes in prewar doors and desks.
"Just a minute sir! I'll have it under control." J.T Bennings cursed as he quickly tried hacking back into the mainframe. Under an hour ago, the most dangerous thing in this facility were just annoying radroaches and mole rats, that was, until Defender L.J Rogers decided to fiddle around with the mainframe terminal, setting all Protectrons and security bots to "Total Liquidation" Mode. It only took a second before the entire building filled with laser, plasma and flamer fire as every living thing down to the last radroach was being incinerated within the building. Now, every Protectron within the facility was heading straight for four outnumbered Outcasts. Both L.J and J.T furiously tried to reprogram the things while Colt and Fitt's guarded the door.
"Any day now!" Fitts yelled, firing another shot that blasted a triangular shaped hole into a Protectron. Two more of the fragile robots fell before another robot appeared in the doorway, literally crushing the battered husks of its robotic cousins. Both Fitts and Colt widened their eyes. Unlike protectrons, this was a military class Sentry Bot, sporting tripod legs with wheels and a gatling laser and rocket launcher in each arm.
"Alert, use of lethal force in progress. non-combatant safety cannot be guaranteed"
"Well fuck me sideways..." Defender Colt managed to blurt out, before the entire hallway became bathed in a stream of constant red laser gatling fire. Every Protectron in the hallway either exploded or was disintegrated.
"Be advised, hostiles in area. Threat neutralization in progress."
Fitts nodded to Colt as they both eyed each other through the doorways, and on cue, both outcasts unpinned a frag grenade, sending it rolling down the hallway towards the sentry bot.
The entire floor shook, loosening dust and soot from the ceiling as the hallway lit up in a cloud of orange flame and shrapnel. Several dead Gutsys exploded as well, their flamer fuels adding more to the raging inferno.
Colt gave a low whistle, appreciating the amount of destruction they had wrecked upon the ancient machines, but to his surprise, the Sentry bot was still standing, aiming its rocket launcher arm down the hall towards J.T and L.J.
"There!" J.T shouted in excitement, "We got it! Shutting off all bots now!" The Outcast began entering the codes into the console.
"GET DOWN!" Fitts shouted, both him and Colt bracing against the wall, while J.T and L.J both dived down to the floor.
The projectile roared through the hallway, passing the door before hitting the computer console dead on. The ancient mainframe collapsed as the missile pierced it's hardware, exploding into a ball of flame and scrap metal and microchips all over the room
The Sentry bot, having just been reprogrammed, simply powered down afterwards. "Systems...FAAIILuuuuuure."
All four Outcasts were lying on the floor, covered in rubble and dust, but alive nonetheless. It took several seconds for the ringing to stop before they recognized that the battle had ended.
"Well, that was close." J.T snipped in, brushing the dust off his armor as he got off his feet.
"Any injuries?" Protector Fitts grumbled as he got back up. What had started as a regular salvage operation descended into a battlefield all too quickly. He frowned at the robots and technology they had been forced to destroy, so much had already been lost.
"We're fine Cap'n, still in one piece." Defender Colt gave a salute as he threw away his busted Tri-laser rifle. He eyed the Sentry bot greedily, aiming to dismantle it's gatling laser for himself.
"Good, salvage what we can, then meet me in the front lot. We've done enough here."
The Outcasts nodded, filing out of the room until Fitts grabbed J.T by the chest plate, hauling him against the wall.
"If I see any of your men risk my squad like that again. I'll shoot them myself. Is there clear?"
J.T felt a small lump form in his throat. "Yes Protector."
"Good, now pack up and let's go."
It wasn't until some time later before the four man squad was done with the building, hauling their wares and salvage out of the ancient warehouse. In the distance, Fitts could see a detail of heavily armed mercenaries watching the Outcast soldiers in the lot, they were armored like Talons in combat armor, but did not possess the black armor or white claw insignias of their enemies. They were most likely soldiers from Tenpenny Tower, keeping an eye on the new intruders for their master. The Outcast ignored them, disgusted with the thought of even communicating with a rabble such as them. Let them watch. His attention was focused on the man standing in the parking lot, an elderly man with a kind weathered face, who was accompanied by his own mini-army of robots.
"And you are?" Fitts asked.
"Hello stranger," The man bowed slightly. "I'm Tinker Joe. Premier supplier of robotic parts and services throughout the D.C Wasteland."
Fitts nodded. This was the man that the wastelander had advised him about. Perhaps something could yet be salvaged from all the lost technology in the Robco centre.
"I'm Protector Fitts. Of the Brotherhood Outcasts." He extended his hand towards the man. A courtesy that not even Casdin would have granted to a wastelander, but for Fitts, he learned that a little courtesy could go a long way.
If Tinker Joe was surprised by this or affected by it in any way, it did not show.
"Of course you would sir, of course! Well, it just happens that I've got a beaut of a deal on this customized Gutsy. And it's not just 'Mister' Gutsy - he's a full fledged sergeant! Sergeant RL-3 to be precise, the pride of General Atomics International." Fitts took a second to appraise the Mr. Gutsy model that floated behind the scavenger. Gutsys were known to be reliably tough, almost as powerful as sentry bots, and this one seemed to have reinforced armor plating, along with a custom dark army green coat.
"Comes complete with a simulated personality unit, so he's good protection and good company too! He's all yours for 1,000 caps." Tinker Joe made the pitch the same way he had all these thousands of times.
"A thousand caps?" J.T protested, outraged that a tribal would dare charge that much.
Fitts however, studied the robot more carefully. "Simulated personality? Sounds like trouble." He had known one too many going rampant, suddenly developing the self awareness to disobey orders and fry everything around them.
Tinker Joe simply shrugged at the statement. "To tell you the truth, it is a little trouble, but he can't help the way he got built. General atomics programmed the mister gutsy to be a good soldier, but their definitions were a bit vague, so a lot of units had...issues. SO we got a gung-ho robotic soldier that's pick about the company it keeps, but he seems to like you, so it'll be fine."
Defender Colt stepped in, armed with his newly salvaged Gatling Laser. "I'd like him sir. After all, he can't be worse than Charlie." The Defender smirked, thinking about all the bitching that robot brain always did, in that regard, he didn't envy Kesler or Farsight at all.
Fitts nodded in agreement. "1,000 caps is a lot, but we'll take him."
Tinker Joe's face brightened up at this statement. "I'll just transfer the codes, and you've got a deal friend. Here's hoping for the best for you and the sergeant alike!"
Fitts nodded, having spent all the time he was willing to spend in this hellhole. "Time for us to go."
He turned, just as the Gutsy robot fell out of line with Tinker Joe, joining the four man Outcast squad.
"Salutations Commander! Sergeant RL-3, Gutsy class robotic soldier, reporting for duty!"
"Yeah, yeah. Shut up and fall in."
"SIR!"
Hours passed over Bailey's crossroads, the sun setting in the dusk sky, which glowed a bright orange. Dust tornadoes blew through the square, upending several pre-war posters and newspaper rolls, frustrating Defender Sibley even more.
"The fuck does Casdin want us here for?" He complained.
"Whatever the fuck he wants Defender." Protector McGraw, a gruffly, beared looking Outcast reminded his subordinate. "Olin's managed to get us into that underground bunker, but she needs time to access it." The armory in Bailey's was an old pre-war bomb shelter for the military. Supposedly armed with the latest in pre-war weapons and technology from both Chinese and American armies.
"Don't see why we don't just blow a hole through the door." Sibley kicked a piece of concrete with his boot.
"Short of a mini-nuke, we've tried everything else. "
"I don't like it sir. Especially with all the locals wandering around. Whatever's behind that door better be worth it."
"So that's why its your job to keep the locals away, just do your duty soldier." McGraw was in no mood to argue with his touchy subordinate.
"Yes...Sir.' Sibley grumbled.
McGraw sighed, walking back to the compound where the excavation was taking place. When this is over, he would go back. Not back to the Citadel, but way back west to where the original brotherhood was, pure and simple. This work was taking far too much time, and with only five Outcasts and a specialist posted in the Outpost, it would take even longer than expected.
"How are we doing Olin?" He asked, even as the scribe was busy re-routing circuitry under a console.
"Not so good, I've managed to reactivate the power for the doorway, but it won't open unless we get someone in the simulation."
"Haven't we tried that already?" McGraw asked, remembering the cybernetic suit they've found in the armory's less secure vaults.
"Yes, but it requires the occupant to be equipped with a pre-war Pip-boy 3000."
"Pip-boy?"
"A sort of wrist mounted computer, Protector, programmed to assist the wearer and only usable by the person whose genetic code matched its program. It's a very rare and specialized piece of pre-war equipment. If we could obtain one, that would go a long way..."
Meanwhile, up on the street level, Defender Sibley spotted an interesting sight. A wastelander running away from an angry Super Mutant. But what distinguished this local from the rest was the way he was dressed. In a blue vault-tec suit.
A sinister smile appeared on Sibley's face. Then he realized the local was running towards him.
Instincts quickly taking over, Sibley warmed up the barrels of his minigun, sending a hot blaze of iron and shells towards the super mutant, ripping his torso into shreds. The lumbering green giant collapsed into a bloody heap, leaving the disoriented Vault dwller lying at the Outcast's feet.
"Well...Lookie at what we have here. Maybe this is the guy we've heard about all this time from Three Dog."
The vault dweller, dressed in the standard blue Vault Tec jumpsuit, with the number of his vault patched on his back. Looked up at the Outcasts nervously.
"Gary?"