Hello everyone! I hope that you all are doing well. I know, it's been a couple months. As to why it's been a while, well, with the Atlanta Braves making the MLB playoffs and the LA Rams season in full swing, my attention was diverted elsewhere. The Rams season is still ongoing, yes, but thankfully they only play once a week, so I can give more attention to the story again. As for the story, we are starting Old World Blues. Some things will be different than they are in-game. Just letting you know that right off the bat. Enjoy the chapter, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.
Veronica, having finally come back to her senses, went over to the spot where Mark had disappeared from. The spot where he stood showed no indication that he was ever there. She put her hand on the dome, but nothing happened. She tried kicking the satellite again, repeatedly, but all that did make her foot hurt. She then tried lifting it up so she could get to the access panel, but she found it to be extremely heavy, and it wouldn't budge.
Exhausted from trying to lift it, she sat down and leaned back against it, trying to figure what the hell just happened. "Ok, I kicked the satellite, it powered up, Mark touched the dome, there was a swirl of lights, he looked like he was disintegrating, and then he's gone. There's no ash, so he likely wasn't disintegrated, and there's no indication of him being vaporized. Maybe…maybe that was some kind of teleportation?"
She never thought that teleportation was real until Mark took them up to the ship. True, it was alien technology, but the fact that it existed in any form left it open as a possibility. Maybe there was some advanced scientific group that was working on something like that before the war, maybe even after the war, and no one else knew that it existed. Hoping that that was what it was, she checked her pip-boy, but Mark's signal wasn't in the signal radius. "Fuck! Actually, wait! Yes Man!" she called into her pip-boy.
"How may I help you, ma'am?" the AI answered. "Yes Man, I need you to use whatever satellites that you have access to and find Mark's pip-boy, pronto!" "One moment…searching…searching…I'm sorry, I am unable to detect his pip-boy. It is possibly being blocked from detection."
Veronica scowled. "Ok, that's a bust. What else? What else? Wait! The spaceship! Yes Man, connect me to the spaceship!" If Earth tech couldn't find him, maybe the alien tech could. "I am sorry, Miss Santangelo, but your pip-boy does not have that capability at this time. You would have to either come down to the Penthouse Suite or see Missus Franklin to do that." Veronica let out a yell. She didn't want to do either of those things at this point. "Oh, never mind!" she exclaimed, closing the connection.
She then started pacing back and forth in front of the satellite. "Ok, ok, ok, gotta figure this out before-" "Veronica, you there?" came Amata's voice through her pip-boy. "Oh, fuck me," Veronica said. She pressed a button. "Yeah, hey, Amata, what's up?" Veronica said, sounding overly cheery. "Veronica, is everything ok up there?" "Uh, yeah, yeah, everything's just great. We're both still here. One of us definitely did not disappear."
Veronica winced at her own words. 'Why the hell did I just say that?' she thought, mentally chastising herself. "Umm, ok," Amata replied, "Mark's not answering his pip-boy. Can he hear this?" "Uh, you know what Amata, he just went up to the ship. Gotta go! Bye!" Veronica closed the connection before Amata could reply. She then continued to try and turn over the satellite, but her results were no different. It was just too heavy. She was strong, but she had her limits.
After her latest unsuccessful attempt, she bent over, put her hands on her knees and gasped for air as sweat poured off her forehead. "Veronica." Veronica wheeled around, seeing Amata with a worried look on her face. "Hey, Amata! What's up?" Amata did not beat round the bush. "Where is my husband, Veronica?" Veronica internally panicked. "I-I told you Amata, he went up-" "No he didn't, Veronica," Amata said cutting her off. "I checked with Elliott. The teleporter hasn't been used since this morning."
"His pip-boy signal is gone from mine, and I'm guessing from yours, too. Interestingly enough, they can't track his pip-boy either, which I should have remembered to check when you guys were at that casino. Now tell me what happened." Veronica got a defeated look on her face. "Amata, I'm sorry. When we got up here, the satellite was powered down, but then I kicked it and it turned on, and then Mark touched the blue dome, and then there were these lights, and then he was gone. If it's any consolation, I think that he was teleported somewhere else. There's no signs that he was disintegrated or vaporized or anything like that."
Amata didn't respond. "Amata," Veronica said, feeling guilty about the whole thing, "please say something. Anything, please, I'm so sorry." Amata sighed and closed her eyes. 'It's not your fault, Veronica. It's partially Mark's fault for not listening to me, and partially my fault for not putting my foot down." Veronica looked visibly relieved. "Can you get it up and running again? It might make it easier to find out where he went."
"Absolutely! I'll just need some tools and help flipping the thing over so that I can get to the access panel." Amata nodded. "I'll send a couple securitrons up to help flip it over. Just let them know what tools that you'll need." "Thanks, Amata, but why don't you seem upset about this?" "Oh, believe me, Veronica, I am upset, but I don't want Abby to think anything is wrong."
"Oh yeah, what are you going to tell Abby?" Veronica asked. "I am going to tell her that Mark had to take care of some stuff up on the ship. I am going up on the ship to see if we can track him, and I'm going to see if Cass can take Abby out for the day so that she doesn't start asking questions. Got it?"
"I got it. I promise that I won't stop working until I get it running again," Veronica said. Amata smiled and gave Veronica a hug. "Thank you, Veronica, but I don't want you killing yourself. If you need to eat, or go to the bathroom, or whatever, then do it. Wherever Mark is, he'll survive until he comes back on his own, or until we bring him back. He keeps telling me that he'll always come back, and he has never given me any reason to doubt those words."
Veronica put a comforting hand on Amata's shoulder. "Yeah, I'm sure he'll be back in no time." Amata nodded, turned around, and headed for the hatch. "Let me know if you make any progress," Amata said over her shoulder as she walked away.
(1 hour later)
"Veronica, have you made any progress yet?" Amata asked through her pip-boy. After taking Cass and Boone aside and explaining to them what happened, Cass agreed to take Abby out for the day. Boone and ED-E went with her as extra protection, as they would be heading to the King's HQ in Freeside. Cass wanted to protest, as she felt that she would be more than enough protection, but she realized that one cheap shot and Abby would be all alone in Freeside, and that was the last thing that she wanted.
Amata was now sitting in the Captain's chair on the ship, aliens and humans alike typing on computers and scurrying around. Once Amata informed Elliott about Mark's disappearance, he had ordered everyone not doing something essential to the continued functioning of the ship to drop what they were doing and assist in finding their Captain.
Elliott was off to the side, also typing on a computer, occasionally checking in with the others to see if they found anything. Technically, since he was second-in-command, he should've been in the Captain's chair, but she had automatically sat there. He hadn't the heart to ask her to move, seeing her worried state.
"No, not yet, Amata," Veronica answered. "Some of the circuitry is fried, and the technology in this thing is a lot more advanced than I've seen before." "Well, can you figure it out or not?" Amata asked testily. There was some banging coming over the pip-boy. "Amata, I know that you're stressed, but I'm doing the best that I can." Amata sighed and rubbed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Veronica. I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried."
"I know you are, Amata, and I swear, the second I get this thing powered back up, I will let you know, but I need you to let me work in peace." "Thank you, Veronica. I'll let you get back to it." Amata went to close the connection, but before she did, she heard a loud bang over her pip-boy. "Gah! Why won't you work, you stupid piece of-" Amata cut the connection.
Off to the side, Elliott chuckled. "Quite a mouth on that one, huh?" he said as he continued to type. "Not in the mood to joke, Elliott. Do you have anything or not?" Amata asked as she leaned on an armrest and stared out into space. Elliott came over near her. "No, not yet, but we're doing everything that we can to find him, I assure you." "And there's no energy trail, or anything like that?" she asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.
"Amata, I personally checked. There is residual energy, but there is no trail. We're searching to see if we can detect anything similar, but it is going to take some time." "His pip-boy should not be blocked, Elliott. It's Earth technology. We have advanced alien technology. So why haven't we been able to find him?" "I don't know. Either his pip-boy has been destroyed, or there is some serious interference that's blocking his signal."
A few tears started to leak out of Amata's eyes. "Why? Why does this always happen to him, Elliott? He's already d-done so m-much. I just…I want…I-I-I…" It was then that Amata just broke down and started sobbing, her hands covering her face. The aliens at the various terminals tuned and looked at what was happening, but a glare from Elliott made them turn back to their terminals. Elliott turned back to Amata. He had zero experience with crying women, so he decided to copy something he saw in a movie once.
He gently lifted her to her feet and hugged her. Amata immediately returned the hug, her head resting on his chest. He didn't say anything, choosing to rock her gently while she cried it out. After a couple minutes or so, the tears subsided and pulled away from him. As expected, her face was a mess. She wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt. "Thank-thank you, Elliott. I needed that." "Are you okay?" he asked concernedly. She nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Between the baby, Abby, and Mark, I've been under a lot of stress lately."
"Maybe you should go rest in Mark's quarters. You look like you need it." Amata shook her head. "No, no, I'm fine, Elliott. Seriously." "Amata, you forget that I was in medical school before I was drafted and became a field medic. The stress isn't good for you or your baby. I insist that you go to sleep. I'll give you a sedative. It'll knock you out for a few hours. And no, the sedative won't harm the baby."
Amata's shoulders dropped. "Alright, but only because I didn't sleep well last night, and you damn well better wake me up if you find anything concerning Mark, you hear me?" Elliott smiled. "Of course. Now let's go." He put an arm around her shoulders and guided her to the doorway. They were just about to walk through when a voice came over her pip-boy.
"Ma'am?" came the voice of Yes Man. Amata stopped and looked at her pip-boy, seeing the visage of Yes Man. "What is it, Yes Man?" she asked. "Ma'am, there's a woman at the front entrance. She appears to be with the Followers of the Apocalypse. Shall I let her in?" "Crap, I forgot about that. Yeah, have her wait on the casino floor. I'll be right down," Amata replied. "Yes ma'am," the AI responded before his face disappeared.
"Amata, I seriously think that you need to rest," Elliott said sternly. "Sorry, Elliott, but Arcade's away and he went out of his way to get someone to stop by to check in on things. I need to go meet her." Before Elliott could respond, she went out the door. He sighed and shook his head. 'Yeah, it's not like I don't have medical experience or anything,' he thought in frustration. He went to the Captain's chair an sat down, bringing up the terminal. Moments later, the door opened again.
"Commander," the voice said. Elliott swung the chair around seeing Sergeant Daniels. "What is it, Daniels?" Daniels stopped a few feet from him. "Commander, we intercepted a couple of transmissions that I believe are urgent and concern the Captain." "Do they have anything to do the Captain's current whereabouts, Sergeant?" "Well, no sir, but-" Elliott cut him off. "Sergeant, the Captain is missing. Our only objective right now is to find him. Nothing else. Whatever it is, it can wait." "Yes sir, of course sir. They're in the files marked as "urgent" if you do listen to them." Elliott nodded. "Thank you, Sergeant. Dismissed."
Without a word, Daniels left the room, and Elliott turned back to the terminal. He went back to typing on the terminal, when his curiosity got the better of him. He went into the audio files, brought up the two urgent transmissions and listened to them. He listened to both impassively. Only when the second one finished playing did he comment. "Hmm. Well, things certainly are about to get a bit more interesting, that's for sure."
Amata came off the elevator to see a woman turning around in place, looking like she was examining the casino. She had short brown hair, was wearing a doctor's jacket with the Followers symbol on the sleeve, and had a doctor's bag in one hand. She did not appear to notice Amata. "Uh, hi," Amata said, bringing the woman back to reality. "Oh, hello there. My name is Emily. Emily Ortal. Um, Arcade stopped by the Fort yesterday and asked one of us to stop by?" she half-said, half-asked. "Hi, Emily, my name is Amata Franklin. Yes, we were expecting one of you, otherwise you wouldn't have been brought in here."
Emily nodded. "That's true. I'm guessing by your stomach that you're the pregnant one?" Amata chuckled. "Well, it's either that or I've eaten one too many sweets. Yes, I am pregnant. Shall I show you to the medical facilities?" "Uh, yes please. I'd like to see what Arcade was raving about." Amata and Emily headed towards the elevator. Amata glanced at one of the securitrons near the door, which triggered something in her memory, causing her to stop in her tracks.
That name. Emily Ortal. Arcade had mentioned her the other day. She was the one who had most likely reprogrammed the securitron that became Yes Man for Benny. That meant that she was well-versed in dealing with technology. She could help Veronica. She looked at Emily, who had been trying to get Amata's attention. "Amata, are you okay?"
"Emily, you helped reprogram a securitron for Benny, correct?" "Yes I-" she looked at Amata curiously. "Wait, how did you know that?" "I'll explain in a minute. I need your help with something." Emily looked confused. "I know, that's why I'm here, to check you over." Amata shook her head. "No, not that. Something else. Come on." Amata pressed the button for the elevator and stepped on, Emily following. Amata pressed the button for the roof.
"Emily, I'm going to tell you something, and I need you to keep it a secret, ok?" Amata said. She didn't want to tell Emily, but if she was going to help Veronica, things were bound to come up in conversation. "Umm…okay," Emily said, curious as to what Amata was going to tell her. "Emily, Robert House is dead, and my husband is running the city with the help of the AI you programmed onto the securitron." Emily's eyes widened in shock.
"House is really dead?" Emily asked. "Yes, my husband killed him, and Arcade is sifting through all the medical data House kept on his servers and is going to bring that information to the Followers. Since he's doing that to benefit the Followers, I need your help with something of the utmost importance." The elevator reached the top floor and opened. Amata got off and headed for the stairs. "What am I helping you with?" Emily asked as she followed. They stepped onto the roof. "That," Amata said, pointing to the satellite.
Veronica was hunched over the satellite, which had been flipped over, and there were various tools scattered around her. "Veronica!" Amata called out. Veronica jumped a bit, and dropped the tool she was using, which was a screwdriver. She then turned around. "Jesus, Amata, you scared me." She then noticed Emily. "Amata, who's this?" she asked. "Veronica, this Emily Ortal, a Followers doctor. Emily, this is Veronica Santangelo, a friend of ours. Veronica, I assume that you haven't made any progress yet?"
"Not since we spoke ten minutes ago, no, I haven't." "Didn't think so," Amata replied, "which is why I brought you some help." Veronica was confused. "Wait, how is a doctor going to help me?" she asked. "Veronica, Emily was the one who created Yes Man. Remember what Arcade said the other day?" Veronica thought back and nodded. "Oh yeah, that's right, he did mention you. I could definitely use the help, since I'm not having any luck at the moment."
"So, will you help us, Emily?" Amata asked. Emily nodded. "With what the Followers are getting, it's the least I can do." Veronica looked at Amata and raised an eyebrow. "I told her about House and all that, so you can speak freely," Amata said, answering the unasked question. "I won't tell anyone else, I swear," Emily replied before Veronica made any comments.
"Ok," Veronica said, "has she been filled in, yet?" Amata shook her head. "Would you mind doing that, Veronica? I need to get back." "Of course, Amata." Amata nodded, and headed back to the hatch. "Alright, doc," Veronica said, "let's get to work."
(Four hours later)
He was on jet. Cass had dared him to try some jet, and everything that he had just seen was a hallucination. That was the only logical explanation as to the encounter he just had with five, no, scratch that, six floating brains in jars with television monitors for eyes and mouths that called themselves doctors. Their names were Mobius, Klein, Borous, Dala, 8, and O.
He had woken up a short while ago in a bed, and when he sat up and rubbed his eyes, he looked around and realized that he was in an unknown location. He then assessed his surroundings. There were nightstands on either side of the bed. To his right, next to a door, was a set of lockers. There were shelves and a door into a bathroom in front of him, and on the wall behind him was a first-aid kit and what looked like a wall safe.
He shook his head, clearing out the rest of the cobwebs, trying to remember what happened. He remembered touching the satellite, and then some blue lights, and then, nothing. "Fuck. Amata." He went to his pip-boy to try and call her, but wherever this place was, it was either out of range or was blocking the signal. He then tried to call the ship, but that didn't work either, much to Mark's surprise. It was an alien signal, which shouldn't have been able to be jammed at all.
He ran a hand over his head, when he realized that his hair was missing. He then looked down. He appeared to be wearing some type of green hospital gown. Standing up, he felt…heavier, for some reason. He went into the bathroom and took off the gown. Looking in the mirror, he saw that the top of his head was shaved off, and there were surgical scars running across his head.
There was also a surgical scar running down the middle of his chest. He then turned around and saw another surgical scar running along his spine. Wherever he was, someone had operated on his head, chest, and spine. What was weird was that, except for feeling heavier, he didn't feel any different than he normally did. It was then that he noticed the absence of a certain scar. The scar that adorned the side of his face ever since Benny had shot him was missing, replaced by smooth, unblemished skin. A lot of the other smaller scars and bruises on his body that had accumulated from being in the wasteland were gone as well.
Mark leaned on the sink. "She warned you. She fucking warned you, but you couldn't just let the securitrons handle it. You think that you would've learned this lesson by now, but apparently you haven't." He sighed, and then went over the next steps in his head. The first step was to find some clothes, then find out where he was, find out who operated on him, figure out what they did to him, reverse it if possible, and then find a way home.
He came out of the bathroom and saw something out of the corner of his right eye, something that he didn't notice earlier. It looked to be a miniature securitron. His curiosity piqued, he squatted down to get a better look. It was indeed a very small securitron, but instead of the cartoon policeman or soldier on the screen, it was a coffee mug with a cartoony smiling face, with steam rising out of the bit of coffee that was visible on it. It looked to be active, but no amount of prodding could get it to move.
He shook his head and stood up. He had more important things to worry about. Checking the trunk at the foot of the bed, he was relieved to find his clothes, pistol, and trench knife. After getting dressed, he opened the door to reveal a sitting room. There was a couch to one side with a sofa in front of it, and on the other side of the room, next to a doorway, was a table with a toaster on it. What was weird was that the toaster had heavy-duty wiring running from it to the ground.
Next to him was a jukebox, and next to that was another door. He attempted to open it, but it refused to. He went to the other door, which did open. He walked into a circular room. Looking around the room from his left was an auto-doc, two closed doors, a large server, another closed door, a workbench with a cabinet above it, another closed door with a sign near it that read, "OBSERVATION DECK," and a reloading bench, also with a cabinet above it. There were also diagrams and panels spread out along the walls.
In the middle of the room was a large, circular metallic device with blue lines crisscrossing the flat tabletop. When he saw that, his eyes widened. The last time that he had seen something like that was at Raven Rock. He gripped his pistol tighter. Was this an Enclave facility? Had they somehow survived and tracked him down?
He carefully opened the door to his right and walked outside onto a balcony. Looking out over the landscape showed that he appeared to be in some sort of crater. Buildings, some destroyed, some not, dotted the landscape, as well as large pipes running across it. He saw something in the distance that got his attention. It was a building with a very large satellite on top. Maybe he could use that to bypass the interference and contact Amata.
Taking a walk around the balcony, he saw more of the same, more buildings and pipes. Although there was one more notable building. It had a large dome with a glowing red roof. Going back inside, he went into the door on his right. Inside there was a refrigerator with nothing in it, and next to that was a table with a hot plate, and next to the hot plate was some type of machine. There was no designation on it, and pressing the buttons yielded nothing.
There were also planters in the room with a watering system above it. There was also a sink in the room, but turning the taps yielded no water. Even stranger was there were also heavy-duty wires running from the underside of the sink to the ground. Why the hell would a sink need wires? Shaking his head, he moved onto the next room. It was a small kitchenette with a pantry, fridge, hot plate, and a small dining setup.
Checking the fridge and pantry yielded plenty of water and food, and his pip-boy's Geiger counter said it was all free of radiation. He grabbed a bottle of water, chugged it, and tossed the bottle away. Checking the final door revealed a small hallway with two doors on the other side. There was a sign in the middle. The top line read "THINK TANK," with an arrow pointing to the right door, and the bottom line read "BIG MT," with an arrow pointing to the left door.
Reading the second line made him remember a couple things. The first thing was that the satellite on the roof of the 38 had the same name. The second thing was something that Christine had mentioned when they were traveling back from the Sierra Madre. She mentioned some place called the "Big Empty," but didn't elaborate further. "BIG MT. Big Empty? Was this the place that Christine was talking about?" he wondered aloud.
He shook his head and tried to open the door to BIG MT, but that refused to work. The one to the Think Tank did, however, and when he opened it, it revealed a blue-lighted ramp going up. He started to walk up, with the door closing behind him. When it did, he felt a sense of peace, along with the overwhelming urge to holster his pistol, which he did. He also found that he could not bring himself to draw it again.
He then walked up into a cavernous metallic room, where he proceeded to have possibly the strangest conversation in his entire life. There was a lot of nonsense, yelling, buzzing, something called sonjaculating, and the only female doctor was hitting on him, but after having an exhausting conversation, he was able to glean the key points:
This place was called Big Mountain, a pre-war research facility, and it was definitely not an Enclave facility
His heart, spine, and brain had all been removed, replaced by some kind of pump, a reinforced metal spine, and tesla coils, respectively
A scientist named Mobius, who was also a brain in a jar and opposed to the others, had taken his brain to some place called the "Forbidden Zone"
He had to collect a stealth suit, a sound chip, and an antenna, all of which would somehow help get his brain back
There was a radar fence surrounding this place that prevented him from leaving until he got his brain back
There was a pacification field inside the Think Tank that prevented anyone without a brain from acting on violent impulses
He now stood back in the apartment, holding a holotape and something called a Sonic Emitter. The holotape apparently held the programming for the giant computer in the middle of the room. The Sonic Emitter was a weapon that was roughly the size of a pistol. There were two blue tubes on the top of it, with a display on the back of it showing wavelengths. He needed to find another chip for it because there were some places in the crater that were protected by forcefields, and it couldn't bring them down in its current state.
Walking up to the machine in the center of the room, he looked along the sides, finding a slot that was just the size of the holotape. Mark slid it in and watched it disappear. The machine started whirring as it powered up, and then a voice emanated from it, speaking with an accent. "Salutations and felicitations, sir, and a most jocund welcome to the Sink. Am I to assume that sir will be taking residence here, sir?"
Mark looked at the machine in fascination. "Um, hi. My name's Mark, and I guess so. What is your designation?" "Sir, my designation is the Sink Central Intelligence Unit, or SCIU for short, sir," the machine answered. "What is your purpose?" "Sir, I am an electronic valet and central processor for this residence, the "nerve center" if you will, sir." Mark nodded. "Ok. Are you an artificial intelligence, then?" "Regrettably not, sir. All modules in this habitat are synthetic personalities atop a mundane operating system. There is no intelligence here, sir."
"Wait, there are more personalities like you in this place?" Mark asked as he looked around. "Yes sir. This domicile was once the private residence of a Doctor Mobius. He created personality modules as part of an experiment on machine-human interface. As for why he chose the particular modules, I cannot say." "How many modules are there, and what are they?" "There are nine others, sir. There is the Auto-Doc, the Jukebox, the Book Chute, the Sink, the Biological Research Station, the tiny Securitron known as "Muggy," the Toaster, and two Light Switches, one of which is in the bedroom, and the other is in the sitting room."
Mark didn't hear anything else in the apartment, so he figured that they were still off-line. "Can you activate them?" Mark asked. "Indeed, I could, sir," the SCIU responded, "though if sir's aim is to activate them, I lament to inform you that they have been offline for some years. If sir were to ask my opinion, I should venture that sir is better off without them." "Why is that?" "The other modules are rather…erratic, sir. Their personality matrices were built on flawed logic and have not weathered the years well, sir."
Mark thought it over. It did pique his curiosity, but first and foremost he needed to contact Amata, and then get his brain back. He was still having trouble wrapping his head around the fact that he was still alive after having his brain taken out, not to mention his heart and spine. "Leave them off for now," Mark said. "A wise decision, sir."
Then a thought crossed Mark's mind. "Do you have a name, you know, besides the Sink Central Intelligence Unit? That's kind of a mouthful." "I regret to inform sir that I was not given any name beyond my designation. However, if sir wishes to give me a name, it is up to sir's discretion." Mark drummed his fingers on the machine as he thought.
"Hmm. You said that you were a butler, right?" "Sir is correct, sir," the machine replied. Mark smiled as he thought of the perfect name. "I think I'll call you "Wallace." There was this kid that I grew up with that I hated with a fiery passion, named Wally Mack. The thought of him serving me makes me happy, so yes, your name is Wallace now."
"Sir has made an excellent choice, sir, however, since I am not an AI, the name will need to be encoded in my programming." "Ok, how do I-" Mark was interrupted as a holographic terminal popped up, one that was not dissimilar to the ones on the ship. He began typing and encoded the name into the machine's programming. "Very good, sir. "Wallace" has been accepted into my programming as my name."
Mark continued to go through the terminal, seeing what Wallace could do. There were miniature robots that cleaned the apartment, and he found a map of the Big Empty, which Mark downloaded to his pip-boy. He saw the programming for the other modules and what they could do. He was particularly interested in what the Biological Research Station could do. He then came across something that he didn't understand.
"Wallace?" Mark said. "Yes, sir?" "Wallace, what is this on here about some "object creation program?" I can't make heads or tails of it." "Yes, the Object Creation Program, or OCP for short. At sir's request, I am able to create items from a database of thousands upon thousands of objects, including electronics, medical supplies, toiletries, just to name a few. If not in the database, I can recreate it if placed on my screen." A database of items popped up on the terminal, and Mark looked through them in extreme fascination.
There were electronics and their various components. There were household items like chairs, lamps, and the like. There were toiletries such as toilet paper, toothbrushes, and to Mark's relief, diapers. With a kid on the way, he had no idea what he and Amata were going to do in that regard. There were toys, clothes, medicine like stimpaks, med-x, rad-x, and rad-away. If what Wallace said was true, and he could create this stuff, the Followers would be set.
As he looked through the categories, he didn't see any armor or weapons, which he asked Wallace about. "Sir," Wallace replied, "I can confirm that these categories do not exist. As to why they were not included, I cannot say." Mark was disappointed with that. Then something came to him. "Wallace, how does all this stuff get created? You can't just create something out of nothing."
"Sir is correct, sir. There is a vast repository of matter that has been collected over the years, even when I was offline. This matter is what is used to create these objects, and as these objects require a miniscule amount of matter to create, it would take decades before it would run out if collecting stopped altogether. As I am now back online, the collecting can now increase mutiplicitively."
Mark was relieved at that. He was contemplating how this type of technology could be used to help the Mojave. The possibilities were virtually limitless. Maybe being brought here was a blessing in disguise. Sure, he had to go running around a crater to find a way to get his brain, heart, and spine back, and had to deal with mad scientists. However, assuming that he could find a way to go home and come back whenever he wanted, so many people could be helped by all of this. If this was just in this apartment, there were probably other technological marvels out in the crater.
All of that was secondary at the moment, as he needed to find a way to contact Amata, which meant that he needed to get to that satellite. "Wallace, can you bring up the map of this place, please?" "As you wish, sir." A very detailed holographic rendering appeared on the tabletop. "Wallace, where is this "Forbidden Zone" that the Think Tank talked about?" A building north-northeast of the Think Tank was highlighted.
"This is the "Forbidden Zone," otherwise known as the X-42 Robo-Warfare Facility, sir." Mark nodded. "The Think Tank wants me to get some kind of stealth suit, an antenna, and an upgrade chip for the Sonic Emitter. Do you know where these are, or at least their last-known locations?" Three more buildings were highlighted, and they flashed as he mentioned them. "The X-2 antenna is located atop the X-2 Satellite Array." A building southwest of the Think Tank flashed. Mark noted that it was the same building with the satellite on top of it.
Wallace continued. "The psycho-analytic cardiac dampening suit is in the X-13 Research Facility." A building to the west flashed. "And the audio chip for the sonic emitter is located in the X-8 Research Center." A building to the east flashed. "Ok, thank you, Wallace. I want to test this creation program thing. Bring the computer back up."
The terminal reappeared as the map disappeared. Mark looked through everything, contemplating what to do first. He would need something to carry things in, so he started with that. Looking through, he found a duffel bag, so he picked that. The tabletop began to glow, and a holographic blue blob appeared on the table. It then reformed into the bag that Mark picked, and after a brief flash, there was a blue duffel bag in the middle of the table. Mark remembered that something similar had happened with the vending machines at the Sierra Madre. 'Perhaps this is where the technology came from,' he thought.
Mark picked the bag up. It looked and felt extremely sturdy. He then created some stimpaks and med-x, and as they were smaller, he was able to create a few of them at a time. Mark then took the clip out of his 10mm pistol, and put that, the pistol, and his holster on the table. Moments later, there were exact copies of the items directly under the originals. Mark picked up the copy of the pistol. It copied the inscriptions on his pistol as well. He made a mark on the original pistol, so he would know which one was the one that Amata gave him.
After making a few more clips of ammo, he tossed them and the Sonic Emitter in the bag. He then holstered a pistol on each hip. He then went into the kitchenette and grabbed some food and water and tossed those in as well. He was about to head out when he noticed that the door next to the bedroom was now opened.
He went in, seeing a padded bench against the wall to his left. Looking to his left, he saw three tanks supported by a metal column above and below them. All three tanks had a clear fluid in them, and two of the three had something in the fluid. Approaching the first tank and examining what was in it, he realized what he was looking at. He had seen enough pictures of them in his dad's medical texts to know what the human heart looked like. He was looking at his own heart.
A hand reflexively went to his chest, right over where his heart should be. Whatever that liquid was, he hoped it was preserving his heart. Moving over, the middle tank was empty, but the one to his right had his spine in it, leading him to assume that the one in the middle was where his brain was held for a time. Figuring out how he was still alive should have given him a headache, except for the fact that he had no brain, and thus apparently couldn't get a headache.
Shaking his head, he left the room and went to the door that led to the crater. The door opened to an elevator, which led to a short hallway, which led to the exit. He stepped outside, removing the pistol on his right hip from its holster. He examined his surroundings. On either side of the pathway, the ground was blue. Walking over and leaning down to examine it, it looked like grass. He had never seen grass in person, only in books, but he was pretty sure it was supposed to be green, not blue.
Shaking his head, he stood up and continued his trek to the X-2 Satellite Array. Passing by a truck with military insignia, he saw movement in his peripheral vision. Turning and leveling his pistol, he saw someone charging at him with a purple axe. They were wearing a grey jumpsuit, and they had some kind of metal device covering their nose and mouth, connected to goggles which connected to a curved metal rod that ran over its bald head. Mark aimed for their heart, but that only seemed to stagger it. Mark quickly realized that this poor soul probably had their heart removed as well.
Changing tactics, he dropped his bag, holstered his pistol, and grabbed his trench knife. The humanoid swung the axe at him awkwardly, but Mark side-stepped them and got behind them. He kicked out the back of their right knee, causing them to go down to the ground on one knee. Mark then quickly slashed their throat, causing the being to drop the axe, bringing their hands to their throat in a futile effort to stop the bleeding. The person then dropped to the ground and stopped moving.
Mark examined the body. The person had surgical scars on their head, just as he did. The Think Tank had mentioned that they had lobotomized others, but that he was the first to actually be able to communicate afterwards. He didn't know why he didn't become like these lobotomites, as the Think Tank called them and him, like they did, but he wasn't going to complain. He then picked up the axe. It had a black metal handle, and the blade looked to be made up of purple energy, with electricity cackling along the blade. He took a couple of practice swings, finding it to be extremely lightweight.
He then looked at the body on the ground, deciding to test the axe. Lining it up with the neck, he took a swing. There was a hum of energy as the blade sliced through the neck with ease, leaving a nice clean cut. "Huh, this is neat," Mark said, examining it closer. On the handle was the inscription "Protonic Inversal Axe." There was also a button in the handle. Pressing it, the blade disappeared, and the handle retracted into itself. "Well, that's handy. Easier to transport this way." He sheathed his trench knife and pressed the button on the axe, once again extending the handle and the blade.
Gathering his bag, he looked to his right, seeing the X-2 Satellite Array. He was about to head that way, when he looked to his left and saw a partially collapsed building. Checking his pip-boy, the building had the designation of the Y-17 Medical Facility. "Hmm. Medical facility. Wonder what's in there." Forgetting about the satellite for the moment, he headed for the medical facility.
Half of the building was collapsed, but he did find a door after climbing some rubble. The metal door had some red graffiti on it. There was a large star surrounded by several smaller stars, and under that were five lines running vertically. The pattern of the stars reminded him of the old US flag, although why it was painted on the door was beyond him.
Shrugging, he wrenched open the metallic door. He walked down a set of stairs onto a small landing before he came to a doorway. Peeking around the corner, he looked in. There were catwalks above him, servers running around the room, and to his right was a doorway blocked with a forcefield. There was a pit in the center of the room, with what looked like an Auto-Doc partially buried in rubble. Looking around the room, he didn't see any movement, so he walked in carefully.
Looking on the ground, he found the remains of two destroyed Mr. Handy robots. From the looks of it, they had been that way for a while. Looking into the pit in the center of the room, Mark saw a set of armor next to the auto-doc. Jumping in, he went over and examined it. It was a set of jet-black recon armor which was in decent condition. Putting it on, he found it to be a bit snug, but it would do for now. Looking up, he saw a working terminal on a desk on the catwalk.
Climbing out of the pit and up the stairs, he sat down and started typing. He found three entries on the computer. The first was titled "Sierra Madre: Test Case?" Reading it, he discovered that the Cloud and Auto-Docs at the Sierra Madre came from here. He would have to keep an eye out for any traces of the Cloud.
The other two dealt with something called the "Y-17 Trauma Harness." It was apparently something that could take over the motor functions of an injured subject and take them back to a designated home base. There appeared to be problems with it, however. They were having trouble calibrating how injured a person needed to be before the suit took over. There was also the problem of the suit not being able to detect death, and the fact that it would go into a wandering state if no home base was detected. Mark sat back in the chair. This place was more dangerous than he originally thought.
Walking back down to the ground floor, he went over to the forcefield. Looking through, he saw jail cells. Putting his hand to it, it felt cool to the touch, but was as solid as glass. The Think Tank said that the Sonic Emitter needed to be upgraded before it could take out the forcefields, so that was out. Shooting a bullet at the door was fruitless, as when the bullet struck the forcefield, it stopped and fell harmlessly to the ground.
Examining the door closer, he saw wires coming out of the very bottom of the doorframe, leading to a console to the left the door. Examining the console, there were a multitude of buttons and dials that were unmarked. Thinking for a few moments, he took the axe and brought it down on the console, sparks flying as it went through the console easily. The forcefield flickered and then died. He walked in, seeing blood and mattresses in the three cells. The middle cell was missing the door, which was on the floor near it.
Walking over, Mark saw a holotape on the floor, and after getting a closer look, he found a Brotherhood logo on a concrete support pillar that was partially in the cell. Unsure what to make of that, he downloaded the holotape to his pip-boy, and then played it. The first words shocked him. "This is Christine Royce, Scribe of the Brotherhood of Steel…the Circle…"
Mark paused it. She said she was Christine Royce, but that didn't sound like her. He then remembered that her voice had been replaced by Vera Keyes' voice at the Sierra Madre. He played the rest of the holotape:
"Not going to make it, hope someone finds this message, gets it to the Brotherhood in the west. Tracked a rogue Brotherhood Elder, Elijah, here to the Big Empty. Place is more than it seems, there's a crater hidden deep inside. Junkyard of pre-war labs scattered across the crater's surface…all still running, like this one. Elijah's dissecting these centers one by one…tracked him to an old Chinese-American internment camp."
"Survivors are ghouls, wearing bomb collars. Robots moved in when I tried to intercept him…Elijah sent the ghouls against us both, like walking bombs. Got hit by the explosions, woke up here. Guess the medical robots were programmed to bring wounded victims from the camp to this center. Some type of Auto-Doc prototype lab, manned by corpses trapped in suits that keep them moving, no idea why. Not sure how long I'm going to last, cut open my head like a lot of humans I've seen here, feel strange, can talk, but can't hack the term…
She stopped as something exploded in the background. She then continued:
"…wait, an explosion outside, someone's here…someone's…"
The holotape ended after that. Mark analyzed what Christine had said. She had tracked Elijah here, where he used ghouls with bomb collars to attack her, and then she had been brought to this facility. There was then some type of attack on this facility, and then someone helped to free her. They had operated on her as well, which had explained the scars on her head, but for some reason she had been able to keep her brain. There were also those Y-17 Trauma Harnesses running around the crater.
Shaking his head, he looked around, seeing nothing else of note, so he went back into the main area. Looking to his left, he saw something in the corner that he missed earlier. Walking over, he saw that there was a rectangular metal hatch in the ground. It split down the middle, with a handle on each door. Mark gripped the handles and opened the door.
Upon doing so, he was hit with a burst of cool air. There were more metal stairs leading down, illuminated dimly by the overhead lights. Mark turned on the light on his pip-boy, grabbed a pistol, and walked down cautiously, noting that it was getting cooler as he descended. Reaching the landing, he walked forward into a darkened room, with the overhead lights coming on as he did. He was in a large room with fifteen large rectangular numbered metal pods arranged in a circle, with cables running from each of them into a large control terminal in the center of the room.
He walked to the pod closest to him on his right and wiped away frost from a small window at the top of the pod. He jumped back slightly when he saw a black-haired woman of Asian descent in the pod, her head rolled to one side. He checked the next, and then the next one, but they were the same. All three had people of Asian descent in them. What the hell happened down here?
Going to the computer in the middle of the room, he learned that these were prototype cryo-pods commissioned by Vault-Tec for use in Vault 111 near Boston. Mark scowled. 'Vault-Tec screwing more people over,' he thought angrily. There was a list of the names of the people in the pods, along with their vitals. Their names all appeared to be Chinese, and their vitals indicated that they were all dead.
Coming to the last pod listed, pod 15, the computer said that it was occupied, but there was no name, and whomever was in there was still alive. Curious, Mark walked over to the pod in question and wiped the frost off the glass. He saw an older Caucasian gentleman with a bald head, grey beard, and some type of metal plate on the right side of his head. Mark could also see the top of some type of armor. He did not look pre-war, but that was only a guess on his part.
"Well, might as well let him out," Mark said as he pulled a manual release switch that was next to the pod. The pod began to hiss as the door opened outward and upward. The man inside, who Mark saw was wearing some type of green combat armor, definitely post-war, looked dazed as he reached for the sides to pull himself out. He stumbled out, Mark grabbing him to help stabilize him. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, take it easy, I've got you," Mark said.
The man came out of his daze and looked at Mark, and when he did, he looked like he had seen a ghost. "Jack?" the man said in a deep voice, "Jack, is that you? How is that possible? You're still so young." Mark looked at the man, confused. "Uh, my name's not Jack, it's Mark." The man shook his head in disbelief. "No, you have to be him. You look just like him." "Look, I think that you're confused. I may look like this Jack guy, but I can assure you that I'm not him."
The man blinked rapidly a few times and then stepped away from Mark. "Sorry, you're right, your voice is different." He then looked around. "Where the hell are we?" he asked. "I'll explain in a second. First, I think introductions are in order. My name is Mark Franklin. And you are?" "Wait. Franklin? The guy I'm talking about, his last name is Franklin. Do you know him?" Mark shook his head. "Sorry, I don't. Might just be a coincidence. Can you tell me your name?" "The name's John, John Cassidy," the man answered. This time it was Mark's turn to looked shocked. "Cassidy? Are you by any chance related to a Rose of Sharon Cassidy?"
The man drew a pistol and aimed it at Mark, scowling slightly as he did so. "How do you know my daughter?" Mark raised his arms. "Whoa, calm down, John. She's a friend of mine." John then became angry, his face turning red. "Why the hell is a grown man friends with my seven-year-old daughter?! Are you some kind of pervert?!"
"Seven?" Mark asked in confusion. "No, John, I don't think you know what year it is. I just brought you out of cryogenic freezing." "I know exactly what year it is! It is 2248! Now answer my damn question before I splatter your brains all over the wall!" Mark shook his head. "John, you have it wrong. It's 2278. You've been frozen for thirty years." "LIES!" John yelled. "I'm not lying, John. The date is on my pip-boy. I'm going to take it off and kick it over to you so that you can see."
John stared at Mark for a few moments, making Mark slightly nervous. "Fine," he said eventually, "but no funny business or I shoot you." Mark nodded, slowly taking off his pip-boy, putting it on the ground, and kicking it over to him. John picked it up, his eyes never leaving Mark. He then looked at the pip-boy. When he saw the date, his eyes widened in disbelief. Both the pistol and pip-boy clattered to the ground.
He put his head in his hands. "Dear god, it really has been nearly thirty years." Mark approached him slowly. "You okay, John?" he asked. John's head whipped up. "Wait! You said you were friends with her, right?" Mark nodded. "How is she? How's she doing?" "She's doing fine, John, but she does think that you're dead."
John scoffed. "Well, after not seeing me for thirty years I would assume that she would." He paused for a moment. "Are you sleeping with her?" he asked. "No, John, I'm happily married to someone else. Your daughter lives with me, my wife, and some other friends of ours." His face softened. "Can you-can you take me to her?" he asked hopefully. "John, I would be glad to take you to see her, but there's one thing that I need to do first." "Do what? Whatever it is, I'll help. Anything to see my baby girl faster," he said. "John, this is going to sound ludicrous, but-" Mark chuckled at the craziness of the situation "-I need to get my brain back."
Hope you all enjoyed the chapter. Yes, John Cassidy is back, and why he's at the Big Empty will be explained in the next chapter. As I previously stated, some stuff will be different than it is in-game. I chose not to include the entire conversation you have with the Think Tank at the beginning of the DLC because with all the doctors talking, and with all the dialogue options, that conversation takes forever. Until next time, and reviews are welcomed and appreciated.