Ok, back again. I'm sorry for the long delays and I want to thank you all for you patience. Allright, I'm gonna introduce an OC to take care of some of the Legion stuff. He won't be Legion per se, but he really isn't a goof guy. As always, review, and I don't own Fallout.
Survival kit contents check. In them you'll find: one .45 caliber automatic; two boxes of ammunition; four days concentrated emergency raisons; one drug issue containing: antibiotics, morphine, vitamin pills, pep pills, sleeping pills, tranquilizer pills; one miniature combination Russian phrase book and bible; one hundred dollars in rubles; one hundred dollars in gold; nine packs of chewing gum; one issue of prophylactics; three lipsticks; three pair a nylon stockings. Shoot, a fellah could have a pretty good weekend in Vegas with all that stuff. Major T.J "King" Kong
Charlie and Boone stepped off the monorail into the NCR terminal. NCR troops were standing about, looking like nothing more than loitering teenagers. Charlie and Boone were uncontested as they made their way down the stairs and to the door. He stepped out onto the New Vegas strip, and couldn't help the little smile that came to his face. Even in a world like this, you could still find wonders. He scanned the brightly lit signs that lit the street as day began to end and night start. The Tops casino was not too far from where they stood, so Charlie took off towards it. He walked into the brightly lit casino, looking at the two well dressed men behind a counter. One of them spoke to him.
"Hey hey, fella, welcome to the Tops Hotel and Casino! I'm gonna have to ask you to hand over any weapons you might be carrying." Charlie was expecting something like this, so he just smiled and handed over his rifle and pistol. His tomahawk was tucked under his heavy coat, and he also had a combat knife tucked in his boot. He walked over to the other man, noticing his suit was better made than the receptionist.
"Excuse me. Where can I find Benny? I'm a friend of his." The man looked him over skeptically.
"Okay, pally. Benny's on the 13th floor, in the the room with the double doors." Another smile crossed Charlie's dark features.
"Thanks, friendo." He walked towards where a sign pointed out the elevators. He climbed into the only working one and hit "13". As the elevator began to move, Charlie turned to Boone.
"Okay. Benny doesn't know you, so you're gonna knock on the door. When he opens it, I'm gonna get him with my knife." Boone looked at him dubiously.
"You really think that will work?" Charlie nodded as Boone sighed. The doors opened with a ping and the duo stepped out. They walked down the hall until they got to the only room with double doors. Charlie crouched behind one of the decorative plants that were on either side of the door as Boone walked to the door. He knocked, and waited as he heard somebody walking towards it. One of the door opened, revealing a somewhat creepy looking guy in an immaculate checkered suit.
"What do you want?" Boone was about to answer when a black and gray blur hit the man in the side of the head. Instead of seeing a spurt of blood like he expected, Boone saw that the man had been knocked out. Charlie picked up his knife from the floor, then grabbed one of the man's arms. Boone closed the door, leaving no trace that intruders were in Benny's room. Boone scanned the room while Charlie cut a bedsheet into long strips. He spotted a gun rack, holding a large shotgun and a holster containing what looked like a gold plated pistol.
"Hey, Charlie." The man looked up just in time to catch the holster. He pulled the gun from it, examining it with a frown on his face.
"This is what that son of a whore shot me with." Boone nodded as he loaded shells into the shotgun. It wasn't a sniper rifle, but it was better than nothing. Charlie sat the unconsious man in a chair, then began to loop the shredded bed sheet around him, effectively tying him to the chair. Charlie walked over behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of vodka. He unscrewed the cap and took a swig, he offered it to Boone who declined. Charlie shrugged and emptied the contents onto Benny's head. The head of the Chairmen woke up, sputtering violently. Until he saw Charlie.
"Holy shit! You're supposed to be dead." Charlie gave him a chilling smile.
"It ain't no fun when you're the one tied up, is it?" Benny seemed to notice the trouble he was in at that moment.
"Oh, fuck, please don't kill me! I can give you caps, power, anything! I can give you the Strip!" Charlie looked at him, intrigued.
"What? How would you do that?"
"That Platinum Chip you were supposed to deliver! It's some kinda data device that will make the Securitrons invincble! I swear." Charlie reached into Benny's coat pocket, taking the Chip. He walked behind Benny, placing his hands on Benny's shoulders.
"Benny, have you ever heard the legends of what the Apache people did to settlers and soldiers in their territory?" When Benny shook his head he continued. He leaned down close to Benny's ear. "They scalped them." He grabbed Benny's hair and dug the serrated edge of his combat knife through the man's scalp. Benny let out a high pitched squeal as his scalp became detached from his skull. Boone looked on, seemingly unperturbed, but this was one of the most depraved things he had ever seen. Charlie tore the skin and hair free from Benny's skull, letting out an Apache war cry. He walked back in front of the bleeding man, sheathing his knife and pulling Benny's gold pistol from where it was stuffed in his belt. He chuckled as he tried to immitate Benny's voice.
"From where you're sittin' this must seem like an 18-karat run of bad luck." His smile widened as he pulled the trigger. The 9mm handgun bellowed as the hollow point smashed into Benny's head, obliterating it like an overripe piece of fruit. Charlie tucked the pistol back into his belt, and stuffed the bloody scalp into one of his coat's many pockets.
"Let's get outta here." They walked out, expecting to be confronted by guards. Apparently gunshots and screaming from Benny's room were normal. The ride down the elevator was quiet as Charlie reflected on what he had done. He had never scalped another person before, and he was kinda afraid because he really enjoyed it. He shook his head, trying to clear it. The elevator doors opened and he exited, followed by Boone. He walked to the desk to retrieve his weapons. As the man gave him back his M1 Garand and his Colt pistol he gave Charlie a sly smile. Charlie shrugged and walked back out onto the brightly lit Strip. He tensed up a little when an NCR MP jogged up to him.
"Are you Charlie Two-Shirts?" Charlie nodded. "I got a message to you from Ambassador Crocker, he wants to meet with you."
"Okay, thanks." The trooper nodded and walked off, soon becoming lost in the crowd. Not wanting to take the monorail back, they walked towards the actual entance to the Strip. As they passed the Lucky 38 Charlie spotted a familiar "face" on one of the Securitrons. It rolled over to him, a smiling cowboy with a cigarette dangling from his lips on the screen instead of a stern faced cop.
"Well, howdy pardner! Fancy seein' you here." Charlie allowed himself a grin.
"Hey, Victor. How are you?"
"Just fine for an ol' cowpoke. Say, if ya got a minute, you wouldn't care to meet the big boss, would ya?"
"You mean Mr. House?"
"Yeah, it'll just take a minute." Charlie looked at Boone, who stayed as emotionless as ever.
"Okay." A series of electronic beeps issued from Victor's chassis speakers, and the blast doors on the Lucky 38 opened up, revealing the actual doors. Charlie motioned for Boone and they walked through the doors.
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The man walked along the cracked highway, paying no attention to the NCR troopers across the old chainlink fence at the sharecropper's farm. He got some hostile looks from the troopers, but given the way he looked that was to be expected. His hair was a red and black mohawk, with a small black goatee on his chin. He had a slightly mad look in his intense brown eyes. He wore old leather motorcycle pants and boots, a leather holster on his hip containing a sawed-off 12 gauge shotgun. Black football pads protected his torso, a piece of steel bolted to one shoulder, and some feathers decorating the other. In his hands he carried a weapon not many people had seen. A crossbow. He had found it up north, in what was left of Montana. His inner thoughts were interrupted by a NCR soldier with a big mouth.
"You raider piece of trash! Why don't you go die somewhere?" The soldier spat at him, narrowly missing his boot. The man smiled madly, the soldier walking back a little.
"Little soldier boy taunting the barbarian at the gate. Maybe the barbarian should cut his tongue, hmm?" He descended into a laughing fit causing the soldier to stumble back even more. He continued walking, the soldier getting redfaced at the man's taunts. The man walked, passed teh Gun Runners factory and the Crimson Caravan. He kept walking. He had a date at Nellis AFB.
He passed and old shack, and as he looked to his right he noticed a few ragged looking people sitting around a fire. Well, it was getting dark. He sauntered over, none of them noticed him yet. They did when one of the older men let out a high pitched scream as a crossbow bolt took him in the back. It had pierced his spine, leaving him unable to move. A younger man stood, a rusty kitchen knife in his hand, while the only woman of the group curled into a ball, not looking at either man. The ragged man rushed at their attacker, yelling and swinging the knife wildly. The attacker snorted, then all of a sudden leapt towards the ragged man. A punch to the gut, and a knee to the face quickly put the ragged man down. A boot to the windpipe shut him and the old man up. He roughly grabbed the woman, pulling her on he back. She was attractive enough. She'd do. The man began undoing his trousers.
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The next morning rose to a scene of brutality at the site of a campfire for drug addicts. Two dead men, and a catatonic woman. The woman reached for the rust knife the ragged man had, smiling as she drew it across her throat. The man that had violated the camp paid no mind as he was almost a mile away by now. He was walking up a small incline, towards what his map said was the base.
He saw a man leaning against the guardrail along the shattered road, smoking a cigarette. He approached the smoking man, his eyes burning into him. The man raised himself up and sauntered over.
"Howdy stranger. Name's George. You don't wanna be goin' that way." The man grinned.
"And why's that?"
"The Boomers. They'll shell the shit outta anybody that nears their base. I can give you the timing details. For a price." George smiled wide.
"Oh, and what would that be?"
"Double or nothing on you making it back alive." George continued to grin, until the stranger pulled the shotgun from his hip. "Hey, man! You can't do that!" The stranger grinned.
"Wrong." The shotgun fired, blasting two slugs into George's chest. The man rumaged through George's pockets, coming up with a few caps, a crumpled pack of smokes, and a note. He smiled as he continued up the hill. He reached into a small pouch on his waist and pulled out a glass inhaler. A bright red liquid filled the glass tube. He put it to his lips and pressed, feeling an immense boost in energy. He dropped the empty inhaler, as the world around him seemed to move slower. He looked at the intact chainlink fence in the distance, determined to get there. He took off running, hearing loud booms like thunder in the irradiated Great Plains. Whistling was heard as the shells began their descent to the ground.
He continued, feeling dirt and small pieces of metal hitting his back as he ran. The fence was in his sight, before a shell from a man-portable launcher hit the ground in front of him. He was lifted off the ground and slammed into a large boulder he had leapt over. Normally he would have been knocked out, but the powerful drug coursing through his system allowed him to get up and keep running. He hit the fence and almost bounced off of it, but managed to keep his footing. He ran alongside of it until he found the gate.
Two guard towers were inside the perimeter, and several guards wearing what looked like Vault suits with military jackets over them. One of the guards, a youner man with a rocket launcher walked up to the gate.
"How did you get past our barrage?"
"I ran. Let me in, I have a message from Caesar." Before the man could reply a young woman wearing combat armor walked up to the gate, wielding a mini-gun.
"Outlander, I am Raquel, the Master-at-Arms for the Nellis homeland. Mother Pearl, our eldest, desires to speak with you."
"Well, hello. And my name is not Outlander. I am Wez, emmissary of the Legion."
"Just follow me." Wez stared at her backside as she walked away. The armor may have covered it, but it still had a nice sway to it. He started after her, sneering at the guards as he walked. He studied the base as he walked, trying to get a sense of the numbers. He saw several large artillery pieces, and most of the Boomers had a type of shoulder launcher, be it rocket or Fat Man. They walked past a boarded up building with a large tower, and towards what looked like a cabin. From what he had learned about the United States military, they liked stuff to look like this. They walked into one of the buildings, where a white haired Hispanic woman was waiting.
"Hello, sweet child. You took your time getting here. I've been waiting a good five years for you." This caused Wez to go blank. What in the hell did she mean? He'd only started working for the Legion a few weeks ago.
"What do you mean, old one?" If she was insulted by his name for her, she gave no sign.
"We need an outsider to bring us back into contact with the outside world. We wish to remain independent, but we wish to survive as well." Wez chuckled.
"It seems to me like ya'll have it pretty good. Food, water, women." He leered at Raquel at that last part, who glared back at him.
"I know, but it will not last forever. If you help us, then we will help you. What is it you wish?"
"The Great Caesar seeks the aid of the Boomers' guns. Turn them on the NCR, and he will let you stay free. Turn them on Caesar and your men will be killed, and the women given to the dogs. The children, the males, will become Legion. It is a good bargain." The old woman sighed.
"Do these tasks, and you will have our guns." Wez nodded.
"What would have me do?" The old woman turned to Raquel, who stepped forward.
"Several fire ants have made their way into our generator room, and somehow the power has been cut. Kill the pests and restore power. The power station is the building with all the solar panels on it." Wez nodded, leaving the two women alone.
"What do you think of him, Raquel?"
"I think he is a piece of savage trash. Maybe the ants will kill him." The old woman chuckled.
"Somehow I doubt that."
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Okay, how was that? Did you like the new guy? I wanted to give the Legion something to do. Its not like their gonna sit there while the NCR beefs up its army, and with LW about to call in the cavalry I didn't want the Legion to be curbstomped. As for the implied rape, I know rape isn't cool, but it is the Wasteland, and Wez isn't a good guy. So, please review.