Chapter 9: Necessary Evil
Holodisk log. Resident 53-10385. February 2nd, 2285.
I was out for several days.
After checking my Dosimeter log I was hovering at 985 RADs when I got nailed by the Microwave emitter. I still managed to suck in another 13 RADs in the attack; I mean, it could have been worse, my suit did protect me as did Cheryl's Rad-X dose, but it was too close to call when I passed out.
I must have horseshoes in both pockets because the two Brotherhood guys we were trapped in the Radar shack with me, Cheryl, and the driver of our cart, Moreno, had at least one of their Pre-War trucks stashed away. They used it to get me back to Reggie's before the ambient radiation got me. At my level of sickness and injury I lacked strength so bad I was in a coma. Kinda wish I stayed that way because now myself and what's left of these Brotherhood guys had to come to an agreement. An exchange if you will. Well, here's how that turned out…
Pulsing. Rep felt his head hurt like nothing else. Almost everything in his body hurt. In the darkness he felt his arms and legs weigh like they were 40 times heavier than they normally did. He couldn't even open his eyes, his eyelids felt so heavy. If there was one thing he could do with no effort, it was listen. It sounded much like an echo at first, but with some time he came to notice it was voices. Whose they were was still hard to make out due to all the talking at once. Or were they? Okay, so some effort was needed, Rep thought to himself. Well, he continued internally, I might as well try to get up.
First he tried to move his arms. On his right hand he felt something attached to his hand. It felt like it was pulling hairs on it as he moved. Next he tried his legs. It was almost like someone strapped lead to his feet. He was getting annoyed. He started moaning while trying to shift his whole body around.
A voice rang out in the darkness, "Hey, he's coming around!" It sounded like Reggie. The voice sounded like it was nearing as the voice threw out more commands, "Get me three milliliters of Epinephrine! And get me a clean needle this time!"
Rep felt a twinge of panic as he felt a rough hand quickly grab his one hand, the feeling of his hairs being pulled increased as he could now feel what felt like wires hanging out of his skin. He felt the wires move a slight margin, like something was being pushed into the wires. After a moment he felt the rough fingers of his host drop his arm as he felt his strength slowly return.
"Hey, kid?" the rough voice spoke as again one of Rep's eyes was forced open and a light was shined into it. "Kid. Come on, man, come back to us." Again, Rep felt smacks against his face intended to wake him back up, "Come on, goddamnit, smelling salts didn't survive the war!" Before he knew it, Rep felt an extremely hard smack across his face; a smack so hard it echoed throughout the room. Rep's eyes flew open, giving a yelp as he did. He saw a fuzzy figure before him, "Good, you came out of it."
Rep noticed as he was looking around his glasses were missing. He reached beside him and found his glasses on the night stand beside him. Placing them on his face he looked to the owner of the rough voice…
It was a Ghoul.
Rep screamed in terror as he jumped from his lying position and smashing the top of his head into the headboard of the bed, again yelping in pain. Reggie sighed as he looked to Scribe Rodriguez and an older man in the room, "He's okay. He just had a bad experience with the ghouls out of Dresden Heights."
"If you fail to recall," the older man called out, "the Brotherhood don't like your kind too much either. The only reason we tolerate you is because of your previous military service record."
"And because I can fix your Power Armor?"
"Among other things."
"Look," Reggie turned to the two men behind him while still kneeling beside the bed, "the kid still needs to rest. It might be another couple of days…"
The older man cut him off, "I don't give two good goddamns if he needs another month! He's awake now, we talk now!"
Reggie stood up and faced the man, "Listen to reason, man!"
"No, you listen to me," the man walked forward and got in the ghoul's face, speaking in a dark threatening tone, "get the fuck out or we'll dig you a hole in the dirt…" Reggie grunted as he turned to walk out. The man spit out one last word, "...zombie." Reggie stopped for a moment, he gritted his teeth and balled his hands into fists in anger. He let out another grunt as he continued walking, slamming the door behind him.
Rep had in this time swung his legs out from under the sheets and was sitting on the edge of the bed. The man before the Vault Engineer wore blue robes in the same design as the Scribe beside him. He was older with gray hair but he did not appear frail. The man looked to be in great physical condition. The man approached him, an air of uneasiness following each of his footfalls.
"I'm Elder Olsthoorn, the Midwestern Brotherhood of Steel's leader. Brother Rodriguez here tells me you saved him, Initiate Clements, and several others including your party." Rep rubbed his eyes, "I did? Everyone's okay?" He let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God."
"God's got nothing to do with it, son; you thought quick and acted quick. You know your engineering."
"Look," Rep started holding up his hand indicating for the Elder to let him speak, "from what I've heard of you guys so far, you guys are far from the type to kiss people's asses. Stop patronizing me and get to the point." He wasn't sure if it was because of his headache, or because of his rude awakening, but the Vault Dweller was really ticked off.
That attitude in turn made the Elder lose whatever smile he had, "We're looking for people like yourself…"
"No." Rep didn't even let the man before him complete the sentence.
"Excuse me?"
"No, I'm not gonna play solder for you."
"Let me explain it to you, Local," the man grabbed Rep by the front of his Vault Suit and picked him up off the bed, "I don't give two flying fucks what you are or are not interested in. A lot of my people don't have the capability of doing even a third of what you can, and frankly - I want it."
"Wow," Rep said sarcastically, "I didn't know the Brotherhood were slave drivers." Rodriguez, who had been listening this whole time, visibly winced behind his elder.
Olsthoorn let one hand free of the Vault Dweller's suit and produced a plasma pistol which he pressed to the man's head. After activating the pistol, the man in blue robes gritted his teeth as he spoke, "How dare you say such a thing about my Brotherhood! If it wasn't for the Brotherhood, this stinking dirt heap of a shithole town would be the slave capital of the Midwest Commonwealth!" Olsthoorn put his finger on the trigger, "You brave enough to say that again?"
Rep looked to the pistol again, then back to the man holding it. He knew what was going on. It was all over the man's body language.
Despite still being weak and riddled with bedsores Rep stood up taller and looked the elder dead in the eye, "You want slaves to sell, you're barking up the wrong white boy. Either pull the trigger or fuck off, Nancy."
CLICK! went the pistol.
The gun didn't fire.
Rep didn't so much as flinch.
"You got conviction, kid," the elder dropped the pistol to his side as a look of amusement appeared on his face. The older man turned to the Scribe and handed him the pistol. As he did, Rep had to ask a question that was on his mind, "Exactly what do you want with me?"
"It was never our intention to make you join our ranks."
Rep blinked in confusion, "...What?"
"We, instead, need to make a deal with someone that can not only take the heat and think on his toes, but also has a high moral fiber; someone we can trust."
"Trust? Me?"
"We have reason to believe there's a security leak in the Brotherhood. All intelligence points at the Raiding party that attacked the Gaelic Outpost were days off from an attack. They attacked when we were the most vulnerable."
"You don't know who it is?"
"We know only that communications with our Recon parties are coming in fewer and fewer as time has progressed. It's as though the parties themselves are behind it, but we have yet to find any traitors in our midst."
"Still… why me?"
"Our Recon parties are heavily involved in finding more lost Pre-War tech and restoring it to working condition including tech that was still experimental. Being an outsider allows us to seek out the traitor from within, and being a very educated Vault Engineer you can help us restore equipment faster. You also stick to your principles."
Rep sat back down on the edge of the bed and started to stroke the lengthening facial hairs growing on his chin. He quickly thought out the pros and cons of the situation. After a moment, "Alright, what is it you're proposing?"
"You will be given locations to places of our interest on your Pip-Boy's map. How you go about each location's engagement is up to you. You get a hold of equipment, intel, or info on tech or enemies for these locations and report back to me or Rodriguez with your findings. Also, if the situation calls for it, we will request repair work that we will handsomely compensate you for. What is your answer?"
"Now hold on, General, I have a few conditions."
"Naturally," the Elder agreed, "What are your terms?"
"Any tech found should first be employed for the citizens of all your protected villages' benefit first. Electricity, water, food, if it has an application to make the locals' lives better, it can serve you better."
"Agreed."
"Okay," Rep was rolling now, "If given a location, I go to said location at my discretion. I go when I'm ready."
"Agreed. Any others?"
"I pick my party. If need be, as well, I want at least one Brotherhood member with me. Anything else I can handle on my own."
"If ranks are available, it'll be under consideration. Otherwise, agreed. Any party members you want are privy to information, but if they get one of our members killed…" Olsthoorn leaned closer to Rep and looked him in the eye; he spoke in a dark threatening tone again, "I will rip your balls out through your skull." He stared at Rep a moment, an uneasy feeling filling the Vault Dweller, "Got me?"
Rep nodded. The Elder stepped back and straightened his stance, "Very good. Scribe Rodriguez has your first assignment. Brother Rodriguez, you will be C.O. of this sector for the time being. I will be back at Bunker Alpha should you need communica." The older man left the room leaving Rep and Rodriguez alone.
Rodriguez opened the cell chamber of the pistol and looked inside, looking at the Vault Dweller after, "How'd you know it wasn't loaded?"
Rep stood up and started rolling up his sleeves, "Please, I can hear a plasma coil vibrate from 200 meters away. No plasma, all he could do is turn it on and let the sys-check power scare me." Grabbing his hat and shoes, he put the red baseball cap on and slung his sneakers over his shoulder, "Besides, getting pissed I called you guys slave drivers made no sense. His delivery was terrible, to boot."
"So that's why he agreed."
"Yeah," Rep gave a stretch and a yawn, "I'm hungry. What we got?"
"Well, we brought back Moreno's Brahmin. Waste not."
"Wait, you actually eat those things?"
Nevertheless, from what Rodriguez told me, there was a possibility my mission would overlap with the Brotherhood's missions. He even said he could pitch the ideas out to the Elder. Still, I can't help but heed Moreno's warning about them. Still yet, it was a necessary evil. Resident 53-10385 out.
