Mutatis Mutandis 30

Once again, Jason woke up. This time he was hanging upside down by his ankles a full four feet from the ground. His chest hurt, his head hurt, and his memory was a little fuzzy. He knew, however, that he was damned tired of waking up in random places. Someone -and he had a very good idea who- had tied him up by the ankles and hung him over the central hoist of a rotten barn. His hands were bound behind his back for good measure. The sun was low in the sky, but he wasn't sure whether that meant it was evening, or morning.

He began to struggling, twisting and fumbling to reach his feet. It was a difficult task. Far more troublesome than he would have expected. After a few attempts which left him swinging to and fro, his abdominal muscles burning, he took a moment's respite and stopped, listening to the wooden strut creaking above him.

As he had expected, an enormous suit of power armour blocked his view of the barn's open doorway. Narg took a knee in front of him. The Tribal's helmet was off, and he was chewing on a snack cake. The old man grinned, the corners of his mouth chasing his tattoos. "Oh, Jason, you adorable zany hooligan. You have quite a story to tell. What happened down in vault 87?"

Memories of the birthing chambers and the captive wastelanders scorched their way across his inner eye, yet he had more pressing concerns. "The Enclave-"

"Can be dealt with after the muties are gone!" Narg shook his head. "For the love of Pete, kid, you need to learn some anger management. There are worse things in the world than the Enclave."

"You have no fucking clue! They killed my father! Jackrum's going to d-"

Narg burst into motion. He grabbed Jason by the hair and pulled straight down until the rope the Wanderer hung from was taught. Ignoring the Wanderer's pained grunt, Chosen One carefully reached up and plucked the line, producing a deep satisfying thrumming noise. He looked back down at Jason, who was staring up at him with cold defiance.

Narg said, "Alright, I've had enough. The enclave kidnapped my entire village. An entire settlement of people who didn't even know how to work a gun. Those who fought back were fighting with spears. Spears! Do you know what spears do to Power Armour, kid? Nothing! But the enclave killed them anyway and kidnapped the rest, just because they could. My friends and my family weren't a threat to anything. Don't think for a second I don't know what that anger is, kid. All Jackrum is doing is preventing the muties from doing the same to you. I don't know if you can die, kid, but if you go after Jackrum for doing what he figured he had to, then you can't see past shit, and you're useless to me. I'm going to tie you to the biggest rock I can find and I'll drop you down in the middle of the sea. You can sit down there alone and think for the rest of time. Then I'll come back and slaughter the enclave forces myself. Then I'll leave. The Wasteland won't have you, it won't have me. It won't even have the Enclave. It'll just have Jackrum and his band of misfits. How long do you think they'll last?"

The Wanderer glared up at him defiantly.

"You going to put this aside?"

"…Yes."

Narg glared back. "You lying to me?"

"…Yes –ow!"

Narg pulled his fist back from the Wanderer's stomach, and prepared for a second strike. "You lying to me?"

"…No."

"That's better…" the Tribal let go and planted himself in front of the Wanderer.

"Do you have a cure for my condition?" the Wanderer asked.

"How did you get like that?"

"Brutus had a stockpile of the FEV II Virus in Vault 87. It's gone now."

"How?"

"Blew the vault reactor."

Narg smiled appreciatively. "So that's what that quake was earlier. I was thinking of you."

"I'm flattered." The Wanderer said dryly.

"In a purely platonic way, o'course."

"Now I'm hurt."

"You should be. I'm one hell of a lay, or so I hear." The Chosen One crossed his arms and sat back proudly.

"Where did Brutus get the FEV II virus?"

"Traded it."

"To whom, and for what?"

"Something called a Sonic Emitter. As for the who?" The Tribal shrugged. "Someone on the other side of the country. You have more pressing concerns."

Still hanging upside down, the Wanderer examined his rough, green-skinned hands and was forced to agree. "Do you have a way to cure me, or not?"

Narg examined his companion's green features. Perhaps it was his imagination, but the kid's voice was beginning to deepen. The Chosen One still had the Cure amongst his possessions. He had initially considered simply injecting it into the Wanderer to see what would happen, but reminded himself that he needed it to inject it into Project Purity. The Capital Wasteland was the last Supermutant hold-out of significant size left in North America. Insuring that it would be a mutie-free zone for all coming time, would eliminate Supermutants from the Good Doctor's rather sizeable range of options. The Wanderer would either have to wait until more of the Cure could be either synthesized or obtained, or he would have to heal on his own. Still, the dream could be used as leverage.

He said, "I'm not going to cure you of your unfortunate condition until you cure the muties of theirs."

"There's not enough serum in that vial to cure every mutie in the wasteland!"

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of curing them." Narg explained cheerfully. He pulled out the laser detonator. "I just want you to blow their heads off."

The Lone Wanderer stared down at it mournfully. "My stealthsuit is gone. Same with my silenced assault rifle."

"Don't bullshit me, Jason. There was a time when you didn't have all that fancy tech. You telling me you can't sneak around without it?"

"I can. It's just going to be more difficult."

Narg grinned. "I know. That's what makes it fun."

"How the hell do you know the Chosen One?" Summers demanded furiously.

"This has really got your panties in a knot, hasn't it?" Jackrum asked, amused.

"That man is at the top of the Enclave's Most Wanted list. He has been for four decades!"

"Look, he just kind of appeared. I don't know where or why. But I'm not about to complain."

Summers grunted in frustration and turned away. In the courtyard outside, they could hear the sound of orders being issued, and crates being packed. Their modest army was on the move, headed east, towards D.C. Summers, looking visibly frightened, had pulled him into the nearest office. She had been nearly silent in the twelve hours following the Chosen One's speech,

"He took down two behemoths basically by himself during our last battle." Jackrum said, "That's the moment you stop asking questions. And just thank whatever crazy god you believe in."

The woman kept pacing back and forth, staring blankly into space. Her movements were frenetic, and twitchy. "This changes things…" she kept murmuring.

Jackrum lit a cigarette, giving her a moment in the hopes that she'd calm down. "Who was frank Horrigan?"

Summers paused and turned to him. "Frank Horrigan was the best, toughest Enclave soldier ever to have served! He devoted his life to the American Way, and… and that's probably his armour the Chosen One is wearing! This is a disgrace…"

Jackrum felt moved to offer some measure of consolation. "Don't worry, Samantha. The Enclave was a disgrace long before this whole thing happened."

"Shut up, Waster!"

"Can I get that recorded on a repeating loop please? That way I can just press a button and hear your wonderfully melodic voice. Think about it; you won't even need to be around here anymore."

"Tempting." Summers admitted.

Jackrum sighed. "Look, don't we have bigger fish to fry? He isn't killing you right now. If you're suicidal enough to go up against him and the Wanderer after all this is done, it's no skin off my nose."

Her eyes narrowed. "So the Wanderer is alive, then?"

Jackrum shrugged. "Probably. Kid can take a lot of punishment."

"He had a bolt through the eye." She pointed out. "And the Chosen One stomped on his chest… everyone heard his ribs break. There was no way… there's just no way…"

"As I said." Jackrum took a puff from his cigarette and rose to his feet. "Look, you guys've been hunting him for years. Do you honestly think every single one of your troops missed every shot they ever fired at him? Do you think every raider and supermutant has missed? How could one man make it through so much of the wasteland on his own? I'm thinkin' the rads have done him a few favors."

"Have you seen it?" she demanded. "Have you seen him heal with your own eyes?"

Jackrum shook his head, unwilling to hand her too much information. "Nope. Just guessing. But I'm good at guessing."

Summers glared at him, and then shook her head. "I need to make some calls."

"You do that. I'm going to go see how our boys are doing out front."

They parted ways without so much as a shared glance.

It occurred to Jackrum that he had not seen much of Turner since the Enclave had arrived, and he set about asking if anyone had seen the young man. After questioning a few mercenaries, he was directed back into the mill itself, which he wandered until he at last ran across his protégé. He found the young merc in an abandoned office. Turner was in the midst of removing a beautiful young enclave officer from her uniform. The young couple froze the moment Jackrum barged in. They stared at him, wondering what, if anything, they could do to escape what would inevitably be stern repurcussions.

"…Turner?" Jackrum asked carefully, trying to ignore the young woman's bare chest.

"…Sir…" The merc replied sheepishly.

"…Anything in particular you'd like to say?"

"My duties are squared away, the packing is proceeding without a hitch, and we've successfully integrated Lieutenant Summer's Enclave forces into the rest of your army."

"I can see that." Jackrum paused a moment to let the embarrassment sink in, then he addressed the enclave officer. "You know what your boss would say if she saw this?"

"Yes sir." She murmured, not meeting his eyes.

"Good. Cos I ain't going to be there to defend you if you're caught."

"Yes sir."

"Just so long as you understand that."

"I do, sir."

"Are both your duties squared away."

"Yes sir." They answered in unison.

Jackrum nodded. She wasn't all that bad looking. The girl was well-proportioned. She had full lips and nice big brown eyes. Jackrum gave Turner a half-grin and held up his hand, extending one finger. "Remember, kid: The Teaser." He held up a second finger alongside the first. "The pleaser." His pinky finger went up, leaving his ring finger down. "The Shocker." He held up all four fingers, the first three together and his pinky by itself. "the Rocker." This time his pointer finger was by itself with the other three together. "The Showstopper." He formed his hand into a fist. "The No-Walker."

The enclave girl was staring at his fist with a rather worried expression. Turner's face was bright red, and the poor kid was staring down at the floor, desperately wishing his superior officer would just vanish.

"Thank you, sir." He said, his voice an embarrassed monotone.

"Ten minutes, kids. Then back to work." Jackrum repeated, grinning to himself as he walked out.

Canterbury Commons was deserted. Narg stood at the center of the town's single street, the soles of his power-armoured boots crunching on the rough pavement, crushing spent shells. Bulletholes adorned almost every visible surface, though groups were clustered more tightly at doorways and entrances where victims had taken shelter. A battle had been fought here, though it looked as if the residents had put up a rather impressive fight. Mutant bodies were scattered all the way down the long street. The Wanderer aside, people without armour never did well against mutants.

The horde had approached from the west, marching straight down the middle of Canterbury Commons' single street, and driving the residents backwards. they had been pushed further and further east until they were well trapped in a bottleneck between a building and a mountain of rubble. Narg found two human casualties there. A man in leather armour, and another dark-skinned man. Both riddled with bullet holes.

The Chosen One took a moment, examining the ruins around him. He wondered where on earth the residents could have been. Directly in front of him was a bombed out ruin. It would have made a good defensible position, except that a lack of movement meant being surrounded and overwhelmed by the mutant's superior numbers, and the defense up until that point had been conducted more intelligently than that. To his left was the brick wall of a three-story building. The most likely explanation possible was that the survivors had scrambled over the giant rubble pile to his right while the two casualties had held the fort.

Narg would have proceeded after them except for the sudden sound of skittering legs. Scores of them, approaching from the northern section of the ruins. He unshouldered his BOZAR assault rifle and took cover against the rough brick wall, peering barrel-first around the edge. For the first time forty years, he saw ants. Giant ants, larger than any he'd had to face before. They were swarming up the street in a crowded red cluster, skittering forward on thin, spiny limbs. He had to admit to himself that the sight unsettled him. Narg had always hated the giant insects, and Ants were no exception. Some things should stay small. They had no right to wander the world all huge and hairy and spiny and creepy and crawly… He was a hair's breadth from opening up on the disgusting creatures when a woman's voice echoed across the plaza.

"Halt, my minions! He is no mutant!" To Narg's amazement, the bugs did as they were told, simply freezing in place as if governed by a central hive mind. A woman wearing ridiculous spiny red armour appeared, winding her way calmly through the ant hordes. The closer she came, the more dubious Narg grew about this whole enterprise. She halted, a mere ten meters away. A child was standing behind her, wearing a dirty striped shirt and a red baseball cap.

"You are no mutant!" The woman said, peering at him through the bulging insectoid eyes of her costume's cowl. "You are human."

Narg kept his weapon raised, but he stepped out into the open. "No kidding. The hell are you supposed to be?"

"I am the AntAgonizer!" she declared, throwing her arms wide. She was wearing a thin black under-suit which was visible between the spiny red plates of her armour. "Do you fear my army?"

"Uhh… sure." Narg hazarded. "Who's the kid?"

"I'm Derek." The boy said proudly.

"Uh huh." He looked back at the strange woman. "So… ant agonizer… I don't quite understand. Do you like.. agonize the ants, or hurt them or…?"

"Never!" she spat. "They are my children and one day they shall rule the earth!"

"Are you on Jet?"

"Do not insult me you feeble-minded cretin!" she snarled. "My children will engulf this wasteland. We shall wipe out the mutant hordes and have our revenge on all the humans who would ever do us harm!"

"Ooooh-kay." The Chosen one carefully lowered his rifle. "Let's just calm down here and listen to Derek as he explains what's going on."

"She's the AntAgonizer." The kid explained, as if that would help. "She fights the Mechanist!"

"I do not wish to hear of that man." The AntAgonizer said.

"Sorry, kid. You'll have to do better than that." Narg gestured at the bodies which lined the street. "The muties attacked this place. Where are they now?"

"I dunno." The kid said, "A few are up on the hill, attacking the Mechanist. The rest just headed south. We should go to the Mechanist's Workshop. That's where all my friends are. Well…" Derek's gaze fell on the two dead residents. "Most of my friends. My uncle Roe, and Machete and the others. I went the other way to find the AntAgonizer and ask for help! I mean, can you imagine if they teamed up? The muties wouldn't stand a chance! The AntAgonizer would be all like: Now you will fear the wrath of my ant armies! And the Mechanist would be all like: Burn under the lasers of my robots, you villains! Pew! Pew Pew Pew! Om Nom Nom! Pew Pew! Arrrrrgggghh!" the child had accompanied his speech with the incredibly informative, flamboyant gestures. His eyes were blazing with that special kind of enthusiasm which made Narg want to edge away.

"Up the hill, you said?" the Chosen One asked, pointing south. He could see just over the debris pile. There was a steep path leading to a plateau.

"Yeah, at the Mechanist's workshop!"

"Good. You stay here…" Narg hesitated. "Is the kid going to be safe with you, Miss?"

"AntAgonizer." She corrected severely, crossing her arms. The Human Child is under my protection until the mutant scourge has been eliminated. They are a greater threat to my children than any mere human!"

"Good." Narg said. "That's… that's good. I guess. Look, you two just stay here and… Just don't get in the way."

The plateau was occupied by a single solitary building with low windows and crumbling plaster. Before the war it had been a discount electronics store, though in the harsh sunlight, the 'Darren's Discounts' sign was barely legible. Muffled thumps and the faint staccato of gunfire could be heard from within the building itself, alongside the shouts and growls of the battling mutants. Those noises had been barely audible in the town, but he could make them out clearly now though the battle itself was not visible; the glass windows had been obscured by wasteland dust. Every few seconds a bullet would exit the building and vanish into the open air, leaving a small hole in its wake.

The enormous parking lot in front was a wreck. Several burning vehicles were lying scattered across the pitted, stinking field. Mutant corpses lay draped against the cars, and piled in the missile craters. The entire area was bathed in a light dose of radiation. The land glittered with spent shells, and as Narg drew closer to the building's entrance, he began to spot, amidst the bodies of the mutants, bullet-riddled protectrons and the hulking shells of security bots, tipped on their sides and battered into piles of scrap.

The fighting inside intensified and a few bullets burst through the window next to him,, two of them embedding themselves in the door of a rusted car. Narg backed up a few steps, unshouldering his Avenger minigun. He squeezed the trigger, letting the barrel spool up. He braced himself as it began to rotate fast and faster. The muties were fighting just on the other side of the thick glass panes. All he needed to do to clear his path inside was sweep the front of the building with a steady stream of his armour-piercing rounds. The muties here had no concept of dropping to the ground, or taking cover. They would be slaughtered.

…as would whomever they were fighting…

Narg carefully let go of the trigger, letting the barrel slowly spin to a halt.

He had no idea what was on the other side of the glass. Normally he wouldn't have cared much, but humanity in the wasteland was in such a dire situation that it couldn't afford useless deaths. He slung his minigun into its holster on his back, and pulled out his BOZAR rifle, scorning its comparatively light weight and tiny magazine. Precision was necessary here, but wanton destruction was, on average, just so much more fun!

He crashed through the door of the building, shards of glass sprinkling the floor around him. Between the mutants and Narg's own bulk. Straight ahead of him was a long hallway with a strong-looking door at the far end. To his left, through an open doorway, he could see an office area, which appeared to be the center of the battle. The Chosen One had expected a sudden rush of supermutants the moment he entered, yet it didn't come. The intensity of their firefight must have masked his entrance.

Mutants could be heard just on the other side of the decrepit plaster wall separating the offices from the lobby. Narg paused for a moment, listening carefully to locate the nearest one, then he slammed both hands through the dry plaster. He wrapped his hands around the shoulders of the supermutant on the other side and pulled, tearing an enormous hole in the wall. The green abomination landed on the floor at his feet, and he crushed its skull with the heel of his boot. Bullets pinged off his armour as the mutants finally took notice of him. Narg stepped through the hole he had just created. A mutant rushed at him, swinging a super sledgehammer. Narg grabbed it by the handle and twisted it out of the monster's grasp, throwing the beast off-balance. He side-stepped the tumbling mutant and planted the hammer's head in its back, paralyzing it. Three more mutants peeked over the flimsy cubicle walls, firing at him with assault rifles. Narg fired back, putting a solid half-dozen rounds through the walls of each cubicle as he moved through the offices. The resistance was pitiful, and he felt as though he were merely cleaning up the last traces of someone else's mess.

Narg turned a corner and caught a brief view of a factory floor before a Gatling laser opened fire, scorching his armour. He ducked back around the corner, only to have the wall burst inwards from a missile strike, throwing him into the opposite side of the hallway with enough force to leave him embedded in the wall.

"Engaging Target." A synthesized voice announced.

Narg tore himself free and retreated back into the office space. He could hear the tank-like security bots following behind him. The ones he had encountered in his adventures out west had been clunky, bipedal units which shared almost nothing with their east-coast counterparts. These ones were heavily armoured, and damned near invincible at the best of times. No wonder the mutants had encountered such problems. Anyone with a good supply of the robots would be able to set up quite a nasty defense.

As he moved, he shrugged his minigun off of his back. He could hear the satisfying whine as the barrel assembly began to spin, and he turned, bringing it to bear on his robotic pursuers. Bullets began to fly the moment the first security bot rounded the corner. Armour-piercing rounds thudded through its thick chest-plate, tearing gaping holes in it, and embedding themselves in the bots which came behind. The bots which followed were not just Security Bots, but Protectrons and Robobrains as well. Narg backed away, sweeping back and forth across the office. Cubicles were shredded, throwing flecks of paint and fragments of paper into the air, obscuring his view. Desks disintegrated, and the computers upon them sparked and shattered. He kept firing. The wall behind his attackers began to crumble. Daylight flooded into the building, along with a gentle wind and the capital wasteland's rough brown dust. Rotting wooden studs dissolved.

At long last, his mini-gun stopped spinning, its barrels red-hot. Narg set it aside to cool, and pulled out his BOZAR once again, scanning what little was left of the empty room. The bots were virtually unrecognizable, and every surface was covered in wreckage and a fine layer of pale dust. After making sure that no more surprises awaited him, he reloaded his weapons and moved further into the building.

The noises of battle had all but ceased. He could still hear grunting, roaring, and the reassuring yells of the human survivors. He simply followed the noise until he found himself standing on the repair shop's factory floor. To his right was a smaller building with plenty of electrical equipment on top. A catwalk had collapsed onto the floor, and there were loose boxes, dead bots, and other detritus scattered throughout the chamber. The center of the chamber floor was occupied by a single mutant. It was piling crates, attempting to reach a group of human survivors who had taken refuge in an observation booth well over thirty feet above. The catwalks normally used to reach the booth had been torn down, leaving the humans treed with nowhere left to run.

Normally the Chosen One would have simply cut the creature down, but its enormous stature made him hesitate. The beast was huge. Standing over twelve feet tall, it was already well on its way to reaching it victims' final refuge. The mutant was clearly well on its way to becoming a behemoth. Its arms were covered in bulging muscle and sinew bespoke raw power, yet it moved with the grace and intelligence of a first-generation mutant. This was no vault 87 abomination. This was an original. A member of the Master's army.

Big and smart. Fantastic.

Narg took careful aim, centering his scope on the mutant's unprotected head. It had not noticed him yet, being focused on its task. He waited until he had a clear shot, and then pulled the trigger. The mutant bucked forward as several bullets hit it in the back. It retaliated immediately and ferociously, grabbing a piece of detritus from the pile and flinging it at Narg. The spinning piece of scrap metal knocked his weapon from his grasp and hit him in the chest, knocking him flat on his bottom.

Narg coughed, trying to get his breath back. He had felt the impact even through his heavy armour. The mutant climbed down to the bottom of its makeshift pile, picking up a scrapped protectron; another makeshift projectile, as it went. The bullet wounds appeared not to have even slowed it down, and now that he was viewing it from the front, he realized that the mutant was already riddled with bullets, and about as concerned with its wounds as an elephant would be with mosquito bites.

Narg rose to his feet. "Alright you big, stupid, ugly fucker!"

"That's very hurtful." The mutant responded, striding towards him. "And ugly is a very relative term. Now, for round two…" its voice was measured and deliberate, unlike the uncouth guttural noise which its vault 87 brothers managed to pass off as speech.

Narg idly brushed some of the dust from his armour plating. "What do you mean round two? We just met. I'm Narg."

The giant mutant paused. In so far as Narg could read its face, it appeared to be frowning. It said, "I nearly killed you two weeks ago but you jumped on a vertibird. There were many of you…"

"I think you might be thinkin' of the Enclave. I'm not them. This armour ain't really the same."

"Maybe." It scratched its chin in a thoughtful manner, and then threw the robotic carcass at him. Narg tried to dodge out of the way but the machine hit his legs, sending him into an uncontrolled spin. He hit the floor and slid a few feet, leaving long scratches in his breastplate. In the observatory, he could hear the human survivors calling out in fear. The mutant strode forward, picking up another scrapped unit as it went. It said, "I can never seem to tell the difference between you little humans. You all look like the same thing: Insects."

It swung the bot towards Narg as he was struggling to his feet. It caught him in the chest and sent him flying backwards into a set of shelving. Boxes and loose parts rained down on him, burying him.

"Now who's being rude?" Narg demanded, shaking off the blow and rising to meet the mutant's charge head-on. He ducked its initial swing and landed two blows on its side. Even with the assist of his powerfists, the enormous mutant was able to shrug him off.

"A fair point, human." The mutant congratulated, taking another swing at him.

As he dodged and weaved, his helmet's radio crackled to life. Narg paused, surprised by the sudden noise in his ears. His distraction allowed the mutant to land a heavy blow, knocking him backwards. He tripped over a conveyor and landed clumsily on the floor beyond. The radio faded from static to gibberish and back again. Then it seemed to center itself, and the noise coalesced into a man's voice.

"Good citizen, can you hear me?"

"Yeah. Who the hell are you?" Narg scrambled away as the enormous mutant stepped daintily over the conveyor line.

"My name is the Mechanist! I'm with the innocents in the observatory."

"I'm so very happy for you." Narg grunted, blocking a heavy blow. The impact knocked him off his feet, and he scrambled backwards, trying to regain control of the fight. The giant mutant roared down at him and stormed forward, knocking scrapped bots out of its way as it charged towards him. Its feet shook the concrete floor with every step.

"I appreciate your assistance in saving my city, but I'm afraid it will take both of us to eliminate that creature! We must use teamwork!"

"Good idea." Narg agreed, leaping out of the way as both of the mutant's fists came sweeping down in an attempt to flatten him. "How about you hide up there in safety while I get the shit kicked out of me down here."

"That is a very poor plan, citizen!"

"You sure? Seems to be working out great so far." He already hated this voice. It was the voice of a Poser. Someone who talked big game but never quite followed through on it. The sort who would place mor importance on an impressive pose before a fight rather than its outcome.

It was a slightly hypocritical thought, but Narg had earned the right to dramatically pose before gunning down anything and everything in his path. He had fought long and hard for it? What had this guy ever done?

"Who are you talking to, human?" the mutant demanded, slowing in its onslaught.

Narg pointed up at the observatory.

"Ahh. Their resident 'hero'." The mutant nodded sagely. It grabbed a nearby box and hurled it at the observatory, where the projectile clanged off the wall and burst, raining spare parts on the factory floor some thirty feet below. Inside the booth, a woman screamed in response. "No more plans!" the mutant declared.

"I am sure these god people would appreciate it if you did not encourage the beast to strike at us!"

"How did you hack into my helmet radio?"

"I am the Mechanist. I am very good with machines."

"Uh-huh. What's your plan? Can't you just gun him down from up there?"

"Stop talking to him, human!" the enormous mutant ordered, grabbing Narg by the arm and swinging him into one of the many metal struts holding up the building's roof.

"We used up our ammunition in our frantic retreat." the Mechanist explained. "It will take more firepower than we have to save these citizens from that monster!"

The mutant raised its leg and kicked. Narg managed to slide out of the way, and land a few blows to its midriff. He was having trouble reaching much higher. It snarled in response and swung at him, forcing him to duck. "Any ideas?" he asked.

"Do you see the capacitors on the roof of the small appliance repair shed?"

"The what?"

"That smaller building." After taking a moment to observe the course of the battle, the Mechanist added, "You just went flying through its door at a high velocity."

"I really wish you were down here right now." Narg grunted, forcing himself up before the charging mutant could reach him. "That'd be real nice."

"Stop being petty." the Mechanist scolded. "There is a console up here. I have access to the repair shop's generators."

"And then what?"

The center of the small chamber was taken up by an enormous generator. Several desks and smaller consoles had been placed along the outer walls. The mutant entered with some amount of difficulty. Narg took advantage of his comparatively high agility, and moved to keep the central generator between himself and the hulking brute.

"STOP TALKING, HUMAN!" the mutant roared, chasing him around the circumference of the generator. It picked up a desk and swung it at him. Narg braced himself, his armour allowing him to withstand the blow, though it made his teeth clatter. He backed away towards the door and exited once again into the main chamber. Keeping one eye on the enormous mutant, he used the momentary lull to pinpoint the enormous cylindrical constructs on top of the low roof.

"I need you to get up there. Charging the capacitors shouldn't take more than a few seconds, but I need a method to carry that high voltage to the supermutant."

"You're kidding." Narg rushed forward, dodging past the supermutant's grasping arms. "I don't much fancy getting electrocuted."

"I have had enough of your games, human!" the supermutant called out. "Come and die!"

"Your armour is likely shielded against electrical shock. But that mutant is not wearing any. Just trust me. I have a plan." A low humming noise filled the chamber. Sparks and tiny arcing flashes of electricity began to crackle along the lengths of the wiring surrounding the enormous capacitors.

The doorway exploded outwards, throwing dust and debris across the floor of the repair shop as the mutant created a quick exit from the tiny building. It turned on Narg once again, grabbing him by the shoulders and tossing him into a length of conveyor belt at the far end of the room. He grimaced as he felt his Avenger minigun crunch underneath the weight of his suit. He'd have to repair it again once this was all dealt with. What a pain in the ass this entire expedition had turned out to be…

The Mutant leapt towards him. Narg rolled away, depositing his minigun on the ground as he did so. The mutant's knee landed against the conveyor, flattening the metal construct. Nrag moved forward and delivered several strikes to the mutant's ribs, feeling a few ribs crack, giving way to his powerfists.

The enormous mutant howled in anguish and batted him away with one iron arm, once again sending him flying the length of the repair shop, towards the tiny generator room's ruined doorway. The Chosen One's head hit the tattered lintel and he flopped to the ground, sliding another few inches into the miniature structure. The visuals inside his helmet were fading in and out, and he could taste blood filling his mouth. Narg forced himself to all fours, fighting the sudden dizziness which had taken hold. Unlike the young Wanderer, or Cole, he lacked any kind of regenerative capabilities. While wearing power armour, it was easy to forget that fact. Especially given how pathetically easy everything in this wasteland was to kill. He'd gotten overconfident, and this time it occurred to him that it might actually cost him.

On the far side of the room, Tanka, the mutant general rose to its feet and grinned. This insect had put up a rather good fight. The mutant could feel its cracked and broken ribs, and the heavy bruises beginning to swell despite its vastly superior quadruple-helix DNA. Tanka shook off its momentary rest and began to march across the floor of the repair shop, kicking scraps of human technology aside as it went.

"Mutant abomination, I order you to halt!" an irritating voice called. Tanka turned, midstride. Narg looked up. Standing at the entrance to the repair bay was the crazy armoured woman from the village, and several dozen literal insects. The ants were giants, yet the largest still barely managed to reach the same height as the mutant's knees.

"Halt!" the woman said again, one skinny arm outstretched. "Or suffer the wrath of my minions!"

The enormous supermutant stared down at her, dumbfounded. At least Narg's armour had provided a challenge. Her skimpy red suit wouldn't survive a single blow. He could tear her in half. The general looked back at his original target. Narg had propped himself up against the cracked doorway, and was in the process of removing his helmet.

"This is your final warning." The woman declared. "Cease your hostilities or be destroyed by my Ant Armies!"

"Do you think to frighten me, human?" the mutant monster called out teasingly. "Me? I am Tanka! I have walked this earth for a hundred years, and killed more humans than you have ever met. I have razed towns, ripped vertibirds from the skies, and brought brotherhood chapters to their knees, begging for mercy!"

"You have yet to face the wrath of the AntAgonizer!" the woman replied, unfazed. Clearly Narg wasn't the only one suffering from an arrogant streak.

On the platforms far above their heads, the mechanist joined in."AntAgonizer!" he called down.

"Shut your mouth, human!" Tanka tossed a robot at the cautious figure, prompting him to dive for cover.

The close call did not stop him from speaking, however. "AntAgonizer I know you and I have come to disagreements in the past, yet I beg of you now, help me save my city!"

"Mechanist!" the woman sounded angry. "I had hoped the abominations had finished you!"

At last, Narg pulled his helmet off. He spat a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "You two are acquainted, then?" He tapped his helmet a few times, making sure it was alright, and that the cameras were working, then he slipped it back on.

They ignored him. "These mutants are a threat to both Man and Antkind alike!" the Mechanist called out. "Force this one to the Capacitors and I will destroy him.

"I knoweth not of what you speak!" the AntAgonizer replied, waving her arms indignantly. "Your technological tactics have never withstood the biological superiority of my Ant Army!

"Jesus Christ! Why can't any of your talk like normal people?" Narg asked, exasperated.

"ENOUGH!" Tanka roared, stomping his feet.

"Exactly." Narg said.

"You as well, human!" it snarled, thrusting its enormous green finger towards him.

"Attack!" the AntAgonizer ordered. Immediately, the ants to either side skittered towards the mutant general. Tanka took a stance, preparing to stomp out the first bug to approach him. It was caught by complete surprise when every insect halted a few feet away and blew out a jet of flame, burning his skin and driving him backwards. The Antagonizer watched with a certain smug satisfaction as the mutant took several surprised steps backwards.

"Just get him to me!" Narg called to her. I'll do the rest!" with the mutant occupied by the firebreathing insects, Narg took his time clambering up onto the roof of the smaller building. He tapped into his radio to speak to the mechanist. "What do I do?"

The man directed him to the two largest electrical cables. One apparently leading into the capacitor assembly, and one leading out, though Narg couldn't tell the difference.

"Just pull them!" the mechanist urged. "They have enough charge built up. Just don't connect the ends together unless you want to get zapped."

"Good advice." Narg muttered, holding the ends of each live wire at arms' length. He turned towards the battle and waited.

Tanka had encountered many enemies in his time. Some human, some insects, a few deathclaws. Even the pre-war robots. Yet nothing he had ever encountered matched the dogged determination of these Ants. The creatures were swarming him from every direction, burning and biting. They clawed and skittered, tripping him and tearing bits of flesh from his legs, even as he stomped on them. They were endless. No matter how hard he fought, their numbers only grew. Five replaced one. Ten replaced five. They drove him backwards, crawling over one another, forming a moving mountain of writhing limbs and twitching antennae, The morass scattered as he flailed and reformed, as determined as ever in its single-minded drive to destroy him. Unlike any opponent the mutant had faced before, the mass of insects was too soft to punch, and if he pushed against it he would be engulfed. Yet it was large enough and driven enough to push him. And all the while acid and fire was burning his back and his sides, obscuring his vision and crippling him with pain.

All at once the fighting ceased. The moving entity scattered as quickly as it had formed, the ant horde remolding, trapping him in a semi-circle which spat fire and acid whenever he approached its boarders.

"Hey, Ugly!" a voice said behind him. Tanka batted a few of the horrendous insects away and turned. He was standing in front of the smaller building. The armoured man was there as well, a sparking cord in either hand. The armoured human said, "Now it's round two."

Derek stared in wide-eyed glee at the scene before him. The town of Canterburyr commons, or what was left of it, was standing in a circle at the center of the trashed repair center. Rows of robots and ants stood side by side, gathered at the entrances in defensive formations, and scattered across the enormous room.

The Antagonizer and the Mechanist were standing in the center, watching eachother warily.

"Your ants could not breath fire before…" the Mechanist observed, his voice tinny beneath his metal helmet.

"Pyrosis." The Antagonizer replied proudly. "After the Wanderer sorted our dispute, I ventured to Greyditch, where I learned much from the tutelage of a trailblazing scientist name Doctor Lesko."

"Yes…" the mechanist said, somewhat awkwardly. "On the subject of our disagreement…"

"It is settled." The Antagonizer told him.

"Good." He nodded towards the silent townsfolk. "we must protect Canterbury Commons and the wasteland from this new enemy." He extended a hand. "Together?"

"Agreed." She said, taking his hand in her own. "Nothing shall stand against the might of both the Antagonizer and the Mechanist!"

The enormous newcomer was approaching them, his helmet hanging from one hand, and his bent minigun hanging from the other.

"Hey, Tinman!" he muttered as he passed by. "My gun's broken. Fix it. Now." he dropped his minigun at the offended Mechanist's feet and continued towards the entrance, where Derek intercepted him.

"Oh, man, mister! Did you see it? Did you see it? You are so awesome! You and that mutie were all like 'Bam! Pow! Smack!' just like in the Grognak comic books! And then the AntAgonizer was all like 'I'll save you!' and her ants breathed fire! How cool was that?"

The newcomer stared down at him, bearing an expression of frustrated resignation. Derek continued, oblivious. "And then the mutant was all like 'Arrrrrgh!' and you were like 'Die, mutie scumbag!' and then that explosion! KABOOOM! And then the mutie was all burnt. Awsome!"

The power-armoured man opened his mouth. Then closed it. Then opened it again. He said, "God I miss New Reno. This Wasteland is fucking insane…"

But to Derek at that moment, it was the coolest thing ever.

I'm not particularly fond of this whole battle scene. Or the chapter as a whole. It took me weeks to write and it's still poorly paced and kinda silly. But on the flipside, I think Krow and I were both really looking forward to reintroducing the AntAgonizer and the Mechanist into this continuity. This series has been really dark, and I'd like to get away from that a little bit as we move deeper into Fallout lore.

Next Chapter is Jason's trip into the heart of D.C. (among other things), and then we're past the middle section and onto the final act of this story. An end is in sight (woot)!

Anywho, please give me your thoughts (if any) on this chapter and the story as a whole. They do help motivate.