Note from the Author: I almost put a fourth wall pun in here, but I didn't want to break the suspension of disbelief. Hope you enjoy this chapter all the same, and be on the lookout for my new Super Smash Bros. story, 'Mario's Madness'. One more thing, thanks to 101 Obsessions for the review!

~Chapter Eight: The Good Fight, Pt. 1~

In hindsight, I really hate it when I'm right.

In the ruined building that served as the GNR Outpost, the jockey of the airwaves lived in what was left of the top floor, which meant that we had to suffer more jeers about how the behemoth went down. As usual, by we, I mean I. I was happy when we ditched the 'Steel Plague', but that feel-good feeling didn't last, either.

Three-Dog, despite the fact that his voice was running full-blast on the airwaves, was passed out on a nearby bed. From what little I'd listened of GNR, the fact that it was all recorded – as opposed to being aired live like a real radio station – came as a mild surprise.

"Mr. Three-Dog?" Kim asked, gently waking the man up. "Do you have a minute?"

To his credit, the man and legend got right up. "Yeah, of course. What can I help you with."

"Well, you wondered what happened to make so many people leave Vault 101, right? Well, you guessed it right, somebody DID fart… and it was me."

Despite my best efforts to remain calm, I shared in Three-Dog's heartfelt laughter. After all, I wasn't expecting that friendly hello. But I knew, after spending the whole day with her, that she was joking. Fortunately, so did he, but it took a bit to calm him down from his ranting of 'I knew it, I just knew it!' before Kim could continue. "Now that I've got your attention, I was wondering if you could help me with something."

Kim went on to describe that fateful day. Her friend, the Overseer's daughter, waking her up to tell her that her life is in danger, her oath to use the Overseer's pistol as nothing but a last resort, how she had to use that 'last resort' to save her friend at the cost of the head of security's life, and finally, her escape from the Vault. Then she dropped the proverbial bomb. The Overseer's bloodlust, her first kill, the necessity for her escape: Daddy was to blame for the whole nine yards.

Once the mysterious 'James' made his escape, the Overseer automatically assumed that Kim would follow suit, and that others would take the cue – something Kim imagined that Daddy hadn't planned on. The Overseer then went on a power binge; taking their mutual friend Jonas's life, issuing lockdown via martial law, the manhunt for Kim, etc. Kim's friend apparently found out these events as they occurred and got to Kim first, hence the ensuing bloodbath. Kim went on to describe the events after her escape, wisely omitting Fairfax from the tale and ignoring the fact that she and I ever met – for good reason, of course. Like I said before, this is not my story.

She ended the tale with how she heard her father's name on Three-Dog's broadcast and a 'Here we are', leaving Three-Dog speechless for a moment.

"That's just… wow," he finally managed to say. "That would make for one hell of a story. Full of sorrow, suspense, and tragedy… it'd sure beat the hell out of that old coot Dashwood's series, that's for damn sure.

"Except that the events in this story actually took place," I assured the man.

"Don't disbelieve everything you're told," Three-Dog scoffed. "Hell, you can march up to Tenpenny Tower and get the story from Dashwood himself – the old coot is, get this, still alive."

"Anyway, let me get this straight," Three-Dog continued as he rose to his feet. "You heard me mention your old man on the airwaves earlier today and came wading through Super Mutant Territory hoping to find Daddy unharmed and everything would be all sugar and rainbows, right?"

"Don't be a mindreader," I smirked. The look on Kim's face was priceless as she tried to decide who she was angrier with – Three-Dog for putting my thoughts to the spoken word, or me for having had said thoughts in the first place.

"Something like that," she muttered.

"Well, that's the problem with the recording process," Three-Dog sighed. "The intel that I so graciously provide gets old fast. Oh, if only I had the resources to do live shows…"

So, that explains it, I thought to myself.

"So, he's not here…" Kim sighed dishearteningly.

"Nope, but he was," Three-Dog explained. "Ol' James heard that Three-Dog is a man who sees things for what they are and he came up to GNR to get a lay of the land, so to speak. He had this fire in his eye, y'know, the kind a man gets when he has a purpose."

"Do you know where he is now?" Kim asked.

"Well, of course I do," Three-Dog smiled. "But if you want to know more, you'll have to contribute to the Good Fight."

My ragged sigh did not go unheeded. "This is the part where we get dragged into solving other people's problems while 'Daddy' has the chance to run ever further away," I warned Kim.

Kim wasn't hearing any of it, though. "If it means finding my Dad, I'm willing to do anything." Including getting raped by a gang of inbred assholes –oh wait.

"Look," Three-Dog sighed, "this station is my baby, okay? I feed it, I wipe it, I keep it healthy, but nobody can hear it cry because some idiot – a mutie, I'm guessing – thought it would be fun to shoot at the 'shiny silver thing' on top of the Washington Monument."

"Was that your transmitter dish?" Kim asked keenly.

"Wow, you're as sharp as your old man," Three-Dog smiled. "You guessed it right."

"Good luck finding a replacement for that," I scoffed.

"You got that right," Three-Dog nodded. "The factory that makes them was leveled long ago – scavenged until there wasn't enough left to keep the building upright."

"What can we do to repair your radio signal, then?" Kim asked.

"Well, as it turns out, one of my pals in the Brotherhood located a satelllite dish a while back in the Museum of Technology over in –" Three-Dog tried to explain.

"Over in the Mall Outpost, deep in the heart of Mutie County," I interrupted.

"Looks like your friend's got D.C. figured out," Three-Dog scoffs.

"I wouldn't have made it here without him," Kim smiled in response. "So, we go to the Museum of Technology, taking down every Super Mutant in our way, take the dish to the Washington Monument, and ghetto-rig it to the transmitter array, right?"

"That's the jist of it," Three-Dog nodded. "I won't lie to you – it won't be easy. But-"

"But it's for a good cause," Kim interrupted. "…well, two of them. Anyway, I'm on it.'

Three-Dog practically squealed in joy. "I sure know how to pick 'em!" Whatever.

"C'mon," Kim smiled at me. "Let's get going."

Note from the Author: Okay, so this is a short chapter. In my defense, writer's block is a bitch. I've got an idea how to start the next chapter, though, so hopefully I'll get the next chapter out on time. But that depends on when I can get online next, as well, so… yeah. Later!