Chapter 3: Streets of Siracusa
In the old days, Earth had a diverse collection of biomes and environments. Mountain ranges, jungles, volcanos, deserts, tundras, savannahs, forests. The list used to go on. The Great War changed the geography of the planet, though. So much land and foliage scorched away, lakes irradiated or flat-out evaporated, mountains leveled into rubble. Hell, even the clouds were radioactive. Even the clouds were radioactive.
Six has rarely seen real snow or forests in his life. He was used to the arid wastes of western America. Seeing the savannahs was nothing new to him, there's plenty of those in Utah. But as the war-torn ruins gave way to the plains, he started seeing green. He blinked and rubbed the lens of his helmet to double-check on multiple occasions.
Croissant giggled at the gesture. "First time, huh?"
Six nodded. "Seeing this much green? Yep."
The road trip from Kazdel to Siracusa has run about four hours so far. The horned girl- A 'Forte' according to her- had filled him in on the new world. Arts, Originium, Catastrophes, mobile cities, the many nations and races of Terra. What worried him were the tidbits about Originium bullets, though. Apparently, you needed some understanding of Arts- magic- to even be able to use them. Most gunslingers could only muster the willpower to use pistols. Anything bigger or more complex was nearly impossible for most races. Hence why bows were more common on the battlefield. Energy Weapons were also nonexistent here if her confusion was any indication.
When pressed about his Arts knowledge, he confessed to having little to none. He claimed that he merely salvaged the ammo for That Gun and Sleepytime, taking in the others as trophies. When she pointed at his Plasma Defender, he merely shrugged. Told her that it was an experimental weapon he found. He didn't elaborate on the gunpowder and energy cells, though. Humanity had already screwed itself with nukes centuries ago and his generation was still suffering from their ancestors' hubris. He wasn't too sure if Terra could even handle something as mundane as his world's bullets or lasers. From what she told him about her world, there were already knuckleheads itching for a Great War of their own.
He groaned and shook his head. Now he was starting to sound like the Brotherhood of Steel. Still, he couldn't ignore the complications. For one he had no means of producing 'normal' bullets, so he had to keep his guns as a last resort. He's already wasted some bullets in that firefight a few hours back and he wasn't eager to throw away more anytime soon. He probably could sit down and try to study Arts, maybe even get the right casing and size for his weapons. But Originium was expensive if Croissant's bemoaning was any indication and would require some refinement. He'd have to be lucky to even find magic bullets out in the wilds. Overall, he'll need to learn some archery. Preferably soon.
The group had stopped at a small safehouse an hour back. It was hidden among the ruins of some ghost town, long since abandoned. The group spent the time resting their eyes and limbs there. Six helped himself to some bottled water while Croissant filled him in the world at large. Nice to know that they had clean water around here.
Like Brändle before her, she had never heard of the factions back home. Not the NRC, not the Legion, not New Vegas, not the Brotherhood of Steel, not even America or China. His hopes of still being on Earth shrank with each 'nope' out of her lips. There's still one way to test them. He just needed to wait until nightfall for confirmation.
ED-E was hovering around in the building inspecting everything. So far they haven't done anything to him (at least on the surface). Thankfully none of them could understand its chirps and beeps, so the dynamic duo could always have a private conversation if need be. ED-E was getting rather twitchy, though. Six couldn't help but sympathize with the robot. He was rather paranoid himself, but he's been doing a better job at hiding it than the eyebot so far.
Then Croissant brought up Oripathy. Bad enough that there's literal magic to contend with. But magic rocks that can 'infect' your body and eat up your biomass? Even cause mutations? He shuddered when she described the condition in detail. How the hell can a mineral behave like a pathogen? Sure uranium can give off rads, but it wasn't a virus or mutagen either. Oh, and there's only treatment for the stuff, not a real cure. He'd be wise to steer clear of Originium for the time being.
"So if it enters your body in any opening, your days are basically numbered?" Six concluded after finishing his bottle of H2O.
"Yep. It's just so sad... 'n scary. Not just the effects on yer body, but how everyone around ya reacts to it all. Suddenly everybody sees ya as some diseased monster."
That sounded an awful lot like how people reacted to Ghoulification. Fear, rejection, hostility, bigotry, and even persecution. Even after liberating New Vegas, he'd seen people looking at Raul like he was the plague. If it wasn't for his personal restraint he'd have gutted the fuckers on the spot.
"What about you? Have you or any friends fallen prey to this stuff?"
She was silent for a few seconds. "Myself personally? Naw. But buddies of mine? Yep. People treated them like the plague. We're lucky that groups like Rhodes Island are willing to treat Infected like normal folk."
"Rhodes Island?" Six inquired. He could've sworn he heard that name before. From Arcade maybe?
"Yeah. They're primarily a pharmaceutical company, but they're also the lead researchers into Oripathy. Best treatment on the planet too. Of course, you'll probably have to work for it if you don't got any cash. And that's if you're lucky enough to learn about the place."
"That almost sounds like indentured servitude," Six noted. Almost like Vault City.
ED-E beeped in agreement with a quake.
Croissant shook her head. "Not really. They ain't the types to keep leashes on ya. If ya wanna leave, they'll let ya go."
"Just like that?"
"Just like that. Say, ya look like you could use a roof over yer head. Why not sign up with them? Or my company for that matter? Everybody could use a fighter like ya."
Six chuckled. "Since when did pharmacists need hired guns?"
"Since the beginning, buddy. The world's a dangerous place. And besides, they've been gettin' a bit of fame too lately."
"Oh? What for?"
Croissant took a breath and was about to say something, but the blue-haired woman- 'Mostima' the Forte called her- butted into the conversation.
"I'm afraid that much of Rhodes Island's adventures are classified," she claimed. "And it would be improper of us to divulge confidential information with third parties."
She cast a look at Croissant, earning a sheepish look and head-scratching. She beckoned everyone back outside and into their rides. ED-E was again hesitant to enter the humvee, but some encouragement from Six convinced him to play along a little longer. Six himself was back with Croissant. As much as he envied that blond-haired lad- Leonhardt?- for all his loot, he didn't see any room for a second rider. And frantically he seemed a bit too dizzy for his personal liking. That other redhead- Fiammetta- has been glaring at him since they arrived at the safe house.
The wheels tore into the ancient road and left a trail of dust behind. Four more hours on the highway and Six was still trying to adjust to the change in scenery. Part of him was waiting for some spore monster to pop up, but none have so far. He did see some odd shapes over in the grass, though. Some mutant game or wildlife maybe?
After about three more hours a large silhouette appeared on the horizon. Six squinted his eyes and leaned forward, almost above Criossant's head. Dead ahead was a giant platform with several buildings on its back. The damn thing was about the size of Freeside at the very least. She wasn't kidding when she said the cities moved. The Think Tank would have a field day studying it.
The city was just sitting in the grass when they pulled up. The caravan found a ramp on the side and drove up it. The headlights flipped on as they entered some narrow tunnels. He could see workers tinkering with machinery as they rode by. Most of them appeared to have canine features, such as ears and tails. Hell, there were even bipedal canines among them. Were they a separate race?
The vehicles came across an automated gate, sealed by magnetic locks if his engineering skills were correct. Leonhardt hopped off of his bike and spoke something into a speaker at the doors. As soon as he returned the doors slid up into the ceiling, opening the way for the party. And the Courier's jaw dropped.
They were now driving into a bustling city. One untouched by nuclear fire and decay. It wasn't exactly a "modern" design like many of the ruins he had seen in the Mojave or Divide. No this looked more like some historical site, a tourist destination from some old pre-war ads. There was a sign with a number of different languages on it, but he wagered they all said the same thing. The English translation was the following;
'Welcome to Da Vinci.'
"I thought we were heading to Siracusa?" Six asked.
"We're already here, technically speakin'," Croissant replied. "This is on the outskirts of their turf."
"So not every nation is a mobile city then?"
"Not a single one, at least. Some are just turf for namesakes."
The party exited the vehicles. ED-E flew back to Six chirping excitedly.
"Enjoy the ride, buddy?" Six asked.
ED-E let out an affirmative beep. "Glad to hear you're doing okay," Six whispered back. "So far our friends have been polite. But keep your guard up. Anything can change in a heartbeat."
The fallen angel gathered everyone up and began leading them around the town. This wasn't American architecture. Screamed European if his history books were correct. Italy perhaps? Certainly would explain the name of the place. He was concerned about her earlier remarks, though. Something about volatility.
He saw movement in the corner of his eyes. Locals for the most part, but he thought he saw something- or someone- striking out like a sore thumb. In the alleys he could've sworn he saw suits with sunglasses lurking in the shadows. Not the kinda attire he'd expect to find in a town like this. Then again neither was his armor, and the people they passed by were giving him all sorts of looks. Might be a good idea to change clothes when he has the chance.
The little girl with all those tails -Suzuran- clung pretty close to the party. Hell, one could say that they were shielding her from sight. Was this her home? Or was she worried about running into some ghosts? He had the feeling that he wasn't the only one with secrets.
At last, they came upon a small restaurant of some form. Above it was a green-and-yellow sign that read 'Pete's Super Subs!'. Their mascot appeared to be a sparrow happily munching on a sub. Before they even entered the establishment his nostrils were bombarded by an armada of aromas. Freshly baked bread, melting cheese, grilled meat, fresh vegetables. His mouth was already drooling and his stomach growled like a feral dog.
A chuckle escaped Croissant's lips. "Skipped breakfast, 'ave we?" she teased.
"Maybe," Six admitted. "Was in a rush to get to some shelter. Speaking of which, shouldn't we look for yours before dining?"
"You're staring right at it," Mostima said as she opened the door.
The party walked inside the shop. It had the typical layout of a pre-war subhouse at first glance. Some booths here and bar stools at the counter ahead. He could see workers fixing the food at the back, no doubt the kitchen. They were cutting up some meat back there, but he didn't recognize it. He hoped it wasn't the 'strange' kind.
There was an enormous man with a horn at the counter. He kinda reminded Six of some pictures of rhinos in old-world books. What did Croissant call his race? Cerato? Whatever he was, he seemed to be a gentle giant at the very least. Judging from his position at the counter, he was the cashier (or at least it was one of his roles).
"Welcome to Pete's, what can I fo-" He stopped mid-sentence as his eyes fell on Six and ED-E. The Courier noticed his arm twitch for a split second and noticed a change in his eyes. There was a sense of dread in them, like a wounded Gecko at death's door. Six began to tense up too, ready to sidestep the big lug if he thought about tackling him. Thankfully Mostima intervened.
"It's okay," She assured him. "He's with us."
He looked back between her and the duo before relaxing. Six did the same.
"New Blood, or is he from Rhodes Island?"
"Neither right now, but he certainly has potential. Found him wandering the wastes just outside of Kazdel."
The rhino-man seemed intrigued now. "Ah, a Sarkaz huh? He's not one of those blood-sucking types, is he? 'Cus I don't see any tails or horns on him."
Six shrugged. "Just another enigma," he said casually.
He gave him a stern look. "Well, any friend of Mostima and Croissant is a friend of mine… so long as you behave. Help yourself to a hot meal in the back."
Six nodded and they met the party in the kitchen. Mostima and Croissant were fixing themselves sandwiches while the rest stood near a trapdoor. Just like everyone else the cooks were giving him the eye. He couldn't blame them. He was an unknown variable. Once the two ladies got their food, Mostima knelt down and pressed a combination into a keyboard on the trapdoor. It slid open with a hiss and revealed a ladder.
"Go on ahead y'all," Croissant said with a full mouth. "We'll catch up."
One by one the outsiders climbed down. When they got down to the bottom, they found themselves in a white-and-red space. There were some desks here and there, all occupied by someone. A man ran back and forth with papers, speaking into something resembling a handheld radio wedged between his ears and shoulder. A large screen at the back was playing some type of program, though what he wasn't certain of. It appeared to be a live broadcast, resembling that of pre-war news reports. Too bad he couldn't understand a damn word coming through.
Something crashed into him. No, someone. He could feel hands and knees on him, but his eyesight was disoriented from the impact. When his vision returned he found a mess of red hair pressed up against his chestplate. The offender looked up to face him and immediately bounced off with a nervous giggle.
It was another angel- erm, Sankta- like Mostima. Whereas the latter's features were pitch-black, hers shone like the sun. She had a white jacket with a tan-grey shirt underneath it, black boots, and fingerless gloves. But what caught his attention the most was the submachine gun on her back. In all his visits to the Gun Runners, he had never seen a gun like that before. All that he was certain of was that it wasn't pre-war.
She was speaking in an alien tongue as he rose back onto his feet. From the way she was moving her hands, she was trying to issue an apology. A tap on the shoulder and a couple of words from Leonhardt seem to have addressed the language barrier. Her surprise was brief, but noticeable before she cleared her throat.
"Sorry about that," She repeated in English. "Had a busy day today, so my brain's not-"
She glanced past his shoulder and noticed Mostima approaching them, sandwich in hand. Her jaw dropped and ran past him, nearly knocking him over again. She was babbling something to her, trying to hug her even. Mostima had her free hand to her face, keeping her at arm's reach. She said something in a cool manner, something that the redhead didn't react positively to. She quickly put on a puppy face and whimpered, but the fallen angel's mood didn't change. He couldn't decide whether to laugh at her or pity her.
They must've been talking about him now because the normal angel turned her attention back to him. Or rather, all over him. Before he could ask what the hell she was gawking at he felt a whirlwind around him. A lot of weight had been lifted off of his person and he panicked. All of his guns were gone! The crazy bitch was gawking over them in a pile, drooling even. She was speaking at a pace that'd put a radrabbit to shame as she examined each one.
"Hey!" Six shouted. "Those are mine, asshole!"
The girl didn't pay any attention to him. She was too busy playing around with his guns. Six growled as he stomped towards her. He must've startled her because she accidentally discharged a bolt from the defender. Hot Plasma flew towards the back and splashed into the screen, eating away at it and anything else unfortunate enough to get struck by strap droplets. Every soul in the room froze up and looked back at the gunslingers.
The girl had a stunned- maybe even horrified- look on her face as Six removed the Energy weapon from her hands.
"That was a Glock 86 plasma pistol you just fired, little lady," he hissed. "Do you know what those things can do? I'll tell you; they can turn people into fucking puddles! You could've melted someone with that kinda firepower!"
Six swiftly placed the Plasma Defender back into its holster as he shot daggers at the angel. His hands couldn't decide if they wanted to ball up into fists or uncurl like the talons of a Deathclaw. A smaller hand fell upon his leg, though. He glanced down to see Suzuran, with a concerned look on her face. All of that anger and fury evaporated as his gaze met hers. He took a deep breath and looked back at the Sankta.
"You shouldn't play around with Energy weapons," he said in a calmer voice. "They're more dangerous than regular guns. Bullet wounds can at least be treated. Disintegrations or melting into pools of goo? Not so much. If you really want to look at any of them, just ask next time."
People were already whispering behind them. It took a minute before everyone resumed their work, trying to forget about what just transpired. Six also realized that he may have said more than he should've. There's a good chance that her friends are gonna be asking all sorts of questions about the plasma pistol. For now, they seemed content with that little mishap.
The redhaired angel returned his other guns with an apologetic expression, like a dog that had just disappointed its master. She smiled softly as he reclaimed and holstered his weapons around his person. Suzuran walked over beside her.
"Don't hold it against her," she said, gesturing at the angel. "Her people hold a great deal of reverence towards firearms. Herself more so than any Sankta we know."
ED-E butted in at that moment, chirping at its user. "Ah, right. Repairs," Six remembered. "Thanks for reminding me. Any good mechanics or electricians down here?"
The girl with the lightbulb pointed at a door near the destroyed screen. Six waved thanks to her and went through it. Inside was an elderly man hiding under his workbench. Judging from the overalls and tools he was the mechanic of the base. He peeked his head out as the door opened and was somewhat startled by the stranger and robot. He brushed off the tension after a few seconds and put on a hearty smile. Much like Fiammetta, he had feathers growing out of his skull. What did Croissant call their people? 'Liberi?
"Not every day a merc comes down here," He said. "Especially with that kinda gear."
"I'm not for hire,'' said Six. "Well, not yet at least. My robot and Pip-boy got hit by an energy wave from some Originium. Fried the latter's guts and melted some circuits on the former. Don't suppose I can get them fixed down here?"
The man walked up to him Six as he flashed his Pip-Boy. "Now that's something you don't see every day," he noted. "Where'd you find it?"
"From a gentleman that patched me up one fateful night. He figured I'd make more use of it than he ever did."
"And the robot?"
"From my old workplace. I used to be a Courier before an… incident. Found him on an old workbench after my recovery. No idea who left him though."
Six unstrapped the device from his arm and handed it to the old man. ED-E cautiously floated towards him, letting out some wiry beeps. The man dissected the Pip-boy first, whistling as he studied it.
"You weren't kidding," he said. "Looks like the only thing intact is the hard drive. Hold up, this thing uses tape! Who the hell uses tape as a storage medium these days? And is that copper? Everybody switched to Originium decades ago."
"Can you fix it or not?"
The man shook his head. "Hmm, blocky as hell. Ain't like anything I've seen before, and I'm the ancient one around these parts. No traces of Orundum in it either. Whoever managed to build this doohickey must've been one hell of a scavenger. And something's missing too..."
"That would be the battery. It took the brunt of the blast and leaked out radi- erm, fluid. Was worried that it'd burst into flames before I found a repair shop, so I discarded it."
"Guess I can't blame you in that case. But doesn't look like this tech is compatible with Originium batteries. I might be able to transfer its data onto a more modern system though. Maybe even reuse the casing and give you more up-to-date hardware."
Six smiled under his helm and handed the man a holotape. "I'd be obliged. Use this to update the operating system if you really plan on making an upgrade. What about payment, though?"
"If you're broke, ask Croissant or Exusiai. They'll throw money at just about anything."
"Exusiai?"
"Sankta with red hair, blows up crap on a daily basis. Can't miss her."
So that's her name. He thought to himself. "Thanks for the tip. I'll go talk with them."
ED-E protested in agitated chirps. "Oh, right… I forgot about that bit," Six confessed. "I'll watch over you in that case while he repairs your workbench."
The man pulled up a chair for Six to sit on. "You look like you could use a tutorial on modern technology anyway. Might come in handy if your buddy shorts out again."
"Thanks."
The Courier shut ED-E down and opened him up for the old man. He peered inside and inspect the guts of the machine.
"More copper, no surprise," he muttered. "And… What the hell is this?"
"Uh, silicon?"
"Never heard of it."
Six blinked. How the hell could a technician not know about silicon? Guess this place didn't have it in abundance like home.
"Looks like some of the wires were soldered back into place, though. Your handiwork?"
Six nodded. Something told him that they didn't have repair kits like those raiders back home, so he kept his mouth shut. The man began extracting and disabling the ArmCo workbench, taking pictures with some type of camera along the way. Smart move, really. Streamlines the rebuilding process.
The birdman measured each of the parts he removed, writing them down on a sheet of paper and even tracing their shape on another. He typed something on his computer and a machine in the background whirred to life. Six spun his head around to see something resembling an oversized microwave. There was also a spool of cable attached to the side of the device. Something being drawn and melted- no, remolded- into the machine. It smelled like plastic.
The man pulled out some electronic components from another box and placed them on the table. Wires, circuit boards, even a hard drive. Took him a couple of minutes to find compatible plugs for the Pipboy, but he succeeded and hooked its hard drive to his computer. The other one was too and he started copying the files from the former into the latter.
Replacing the radio and internal flashlight was trivial to the elder. Trying to reintegrate the Geiger counter into the newer hardware was trickier. As he tinkered with the Pipboy more and more, he noticed some design flaws with the casing. By Six's own admission, the buttons and tabs were in rather inconvenient locations. He confessed to wanting to build a new casing but didn't have the time to do so.
Six looked back at the strange device and were stunned to see a near-perfect match of the ArmCo components. The man chuckled.
"They don't have 3D printers where you from?" he asked.
Six shook his head. The repairman let out another chuckle. "You really are living under a rock, kid," he said. "Go on ahead and install the needed parts. Should have cooled down by now."
Six took the parts and began repairing ED-E while the man went back to work on the Pipboy.
"You know, an outfit like that is gonna turn all kinds of heads around here," the elder noted."Might wanna consider a change in wardrobe."
"Been considering that, but I'm a little broke right now. And I don't think the locals here will accept bottle caps as payment."
The man blinked and looked at Six in bewilderment. "Seriously?" he asked.
Six sighed. "Yes," he said. "My people do use bottlecaps back in the wastelands."
"Y'all couldn't find or use anything else?"
"Nothing as abundant or light as bottlecaps."
The man made a short 'hrmm' sound before continuing. "Fair enough. We might have some spare suits for our Messengers around here somewhere. Check with the ladies and they can point you in the right direction. Croissant would be more than happy to do a little shopping for you, assuming you don't go overboard. Even she has her limits. If you're really desperate, you could try signing up as a model for some company."
Six snickered. "Me? On a walkway? What good is a tuxedo or swimsuit against bullets?"
"Believe it or not, there are some that sell body armor too. Terra ain't exactly paradise, you know, and a lot of corpo's would like to keep their customers alive during Catastrophes. And all of our top agents served as models for the industry at some point or another."
"Sounds like a nightmare for an intelligence company."
The elder sighed. "You have no idea, kiddo. I swear, chaos always seems to follow those ladies wherever they go."
Six had finished the repairs and shut the panel at that point. He flipped a couple of switches and the eyebot's antigrav unit roared to life. The robot rose back into the air and looked at its user.
"Feeling great there, ED-E?" Six asked.
The robot gave him an affirmative beep, followed by playing his radio. "Woah... I'm a mighty mighty mighty man, I'm young and in my prime! Yes! I'm a mighty mighty mighty man, I'm young and in my prime!"
"Glad to hear it," he turned to the elder. "How's progress on the Pipboy?"
"Not good," the birdman said. "Between compatibility issues with modern hardware and slightly awkward design, I'm gonna have to give it an internal overhaul. That'd also require me to build a new shell to house it all in. And you know, tweak the design a little for convenience's sake."
"Well aren't you a perfectionist."
"It's a requirement in my field, kid. You can stick around if you want, or go do some shopping up on the surface. Your call."
Six considered his options. The man clearly didn't want anyone breathing down his neck while working, but this was also the only Pipboy on the planet right now. If it gets damaged any further, that's it. No more VATS or subspace storage. There was also the matter of his weapons.
He leaned in towards ED-E's audio receptors. "Hey buddy, is that subspace storage chip back online yet?"
ED-E emitted some negative beeps. Six frowned. ED-E's default storage compartment can only hold so much mass. He can only conceal so much of his arsenal too. If what Croissant said about guns being a rarity is true, then his long arms are gonna draw a lot of attention. He didn't like leaving his world's tech with the old man, but he didn't have much of a choice. He could mitigate the risks, however.
"ED-E, stay with the gentleman while I go back to the surface," Six ordered.
ED-E gave an acknowledging beep while the Courier unpacked some of his loot. He removed his riot shotgun, GRA ripper, crossbow, laser RCW, MF Hyperbreeder Alpha, A Shining Light in Darkness, Sonic Emitter, GRA AEP7, Sleepytime, Thump-Thump, Protonic inversal axe, and sniper rifle from his inventory and set them beside the workbench. The man whistled at the sight of them.
"Hell of a collection you've got," he said.
Six rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "I'll admit that I'm a bit of a hoarder when it comes to weapons. Been meaning to break the habit for some time. You mind if I leave these with you during my stay here?"
"Hardly. But what about you? Do you honestly feel comfortable leaving them with me?"
"Hey, ain't like you can use most of them."
Now the elder was crossing his arms. "I'm an engineer, kid," he retorted with a playful huff. "I can figure these babies out in due time."
Six was about to exit the room, but he felt like he forgot something. He turned back to the repairman.
"By the way," he warned. "ED-E will vaporize you if you try to open him or my weapons up without express permission from me."
Six left the room and was making his way back toward the subhouse above. The birdman looked at the robot with a slightly worried look.
"He was kidding about the vaporizing part, right?" The technician asked nervously.
All he got from the robot was a coy series of beeps. The man sighed and went back to work on the Pipboy.
Croissant was still chowing down on subs when the Courier popped out of the bunker. She waved at him as he approached her.
"Howdy," She greeted mid-chew. She paused to swallow her food. "What can I do for ya?"
He sighed. "I might need some help paying for repairs. And food. And maybe some clothes too."
The girl finished her meal and pulled out her wallet. After a quick inspection, she looked back at the Courier with a grin. "Yeah, I've got time and munny for a little shopping spree."
"Wait, for real? Why?"
"Terra's a dangerous place, buddy. Might as well treat everything as your last supper."
She shouted something at the cashier and called him over. She pointed at something on the menu behind him and back at Six, saying something in that Asian language. The man accepted her payment and disappeared into the back for a minute. When he returned he was carrying a wrap and a soda bottle. Sic could make out some meat and tato in the former, among other things. The drink itself was in a plastic bottle rather than glass. The dark color indicated it might've been cola.
Six accepted the items and lifted his helmet up to sip the drink. It was cola alright, with a fruity tint to it. He took a bite out of the wrap and chewed it away. Right off the bat, his tongue picked up salami and ham among the meats. Some peppers too. There was something green and crunchy in there too. He couldn't name it, though. Croissant took the lead and guided him down the streets as he finished his meal. He refused to fully remove his helmet, though, so he often bumped into some things and the occasional villager. Croissant chided him for it, but he didn't care. He was a bit too paranoid right now to even consider exposing his face.
He finished his food by the time they got to the sign had a picture of some people in adventuring gear, traveling through a snowy mountain. It read 'Everest, Home of the Brave.' The inside of the shop resembled one for sportswear for the most part. Most of the clothes didn't resemble any from Earth, though. If anything, they seemed… updated? Streamlined? He couldn't quite find the right words to describe them.
They also had some climbing gear and bows in the back. Hell, even some guns too. Those were rather expensive though. From where he was standing, the price for the bows was in four digits. The firearms in comparison were five or even six. He sighed. Something told him that even Croissant wasn't willing to fork that much into a weapon. Speaking of which, some melee ones slipped past his radar. They ranged from knives to hammers to axes. Those were rather elegant looking than anything back in the wastes.
There were a number of signs hanging from the ceiling, each with a logo and name on them. No doubt showcasing someone's products. He was honestly surprised to see that corporations survived in this world. Hell, it looks as though they were thriving in it. Most of humanity had lost the ability to produce anything after the Great War. Here was evidence of working factories. Part of him wondered if they were plagued with the same issues as the ones back home. He wouldn't be surprised.
Croissant sprinted off to the register as soon as they set foot inside. She was gawking at something on display behind the cashier. When he caught up to her he could see why. Staring down at them were mannequins, each with a different set of attire. One of them was a black trench coat with silver-grey- lapels and scarf, plus a hat of a similar colorscheme as the finishing touch.
The other one was what caught the young man's interest. It appeared to be a full set of combat armor, helmet included. It didn't match any that the Courier had worn before, though. If anything it resembled the kind used by the US Marines during the Great War. That armor's pretty difficult to come by on Earth. From what he heard it was second only to Power Armor in regards to protection. The commando inside of him was just itching to grab the damn thing.
The more cautious side of him on the other hand favored the trenchcoat. It covered up enough of their identity and seemed lighter than the marine's outfit. Plus it was less likely to draw unwanted attention in these strange lands. Maybe if there wasn't a civilization nearby he'd pick up the armor. But right now he didn't have that luxury. And besides, it seemed cheaper than the marine armor anyway. He didn't want to put any more debt on the Forte (or himself for that matter) than he had to.
Both of them had some type of weapon displayed on them. The trenchcoat had an automatic crossbow in chrome, with an ornament resembling a wolf's head on the main body. The armor's mannequin was holding a rifle of some form. There was a sign beside each of them, giving the customers a bit more information about them.
Manto d'argento - From the masterminds behind the Willpower and Trace series, this trench coat will bring out your inner Noir spirit. Fear not, good citizens, for any wearer shall be protected by the poly-laminated threads and flak jacket underneath. Included with this set is the Wolf's Bane, guaranteed to strike down evil wherever it may lurk. The shadows know!
Coastal Marine - For the few proud enough to answer the call, Pioneer presents you with the Coastal Marine. Based on armor used by the Columbian Army, it provides protection for every combat scenario in any environment. Included with this set is the Radicalization, a custom-made Originium rifle for the best Casters in the field.
Six tapped Criosssant's shoulder and pointed at the coat. She smirked and drew out a card from her wallet. It looked like a keycard at first glance, but it was quite small actually. He could make out a number on it but her thumb covered it up. The cashier nodded and went to work on removing the trench coat from the mannequin and handing the garbs to the duo. The employee pointed to a sign reading 'changing room' at the back of the store. Six nodded and ventured forth over there, grabbing a pair of tinted glasses on the way.
As soon as he shut the door he began removing his combat armor. He placed his Elite Riot Gear into his backpack and switched to the Manto. He smiled as he examined his new look, finishing it off with the hat and glasses. He looked like one of those pre-war comic book heroes from Hubris. What was his name again? Something like 'the grey cloak'?
He exited the changing room to find Croissant waiting for him. She did a double-take and looked him up and down.
"Holy cow," she said. "That you Six?"
"No," the Courier sarcastically replied. "I'm the fucking mailman."
The Forte let out a short laugh. "Still camera-shy, buddy? I don't see why you have to hide that cute face of yours."
"Let's just say that I pissed off more than a few people," Six confessed. "Better safe than sorry."
Six gave the outfit some good pats. Those armor plates beneath the coat felt sturdy enough, but he wasn't sold on the ballistic fibers. Might be a good idea to give it a little test run before venturing out.
"Hit me," he ordered Croissant.
She gave him a confused look. "'Cuse me?"
"Hit me with one of your fists. I wanna test the durability of this armor."
Now she was bewildered. "Aw… okay? Just not enough to send ya to the hospital, right? I'd rather not foot that kinda bill."
Six nodded and braced himself. She gave her arm a good wind-up before throwing out her punch. The offworlder underestimated her strength. He was sent flying out the door and skidding into the street. The armor surprisingly held up against the friction and the concrete. If he had crashed into anything, though, he'd probably need a Doctor's Bag. A sheepish-looking Croissant stepped out of the store rubbing the back of her head. She helped the Courier onto his feet and wiped the dust off of his coat.
"Don't say I didn't warn ya," she nervously jested. "How do you feel?"
"Bit rattled," groaned Six. "But otherwise fine. Kinda surprised that it endured that."
He straightened his coat's collar and hat. Croissant bent her head at an angle and managed to catch a glimpse of his eyes. Six noticed this and pushed his glasses up further.
"You may have to foot a bill back at base," Six noted. "I still need to pay for my equipment's repairs."
Croissant smiled. "Leave it to me."
The street lights flickered on. Nighttime was approaching them. Time to get moving. The duo began a short trek back to base when they heard a scream. Viscous laughter followed soon after and they ran towards an alley.
Some thugs were pumbling away at a man. Their attire seemed to be greaser jackets and jeans, for the most part, sunglasses too. The man was shouting in a pleading tone, but the men ignored them. If anything they seemed to be grinning more and more by the second. Six's fists balled up and he was about to march towards them when the Forte grabbed his shoulder.
"Hold up," she whispered. "We don't know what kinda heat they're packin'. Might wanna do a bit of recon first."
Six turned his head and was about to retort, but he bit his tongue. Much as he hated to say it, she was right. One of them could be hiding a wand under their sleeve for all he knew. He saw a water spout not too far from them. Seemed rather sturdy. He ran towards it and cambered up onto a roof. He crouched and snuck along the ridge, staring down at his prey-to-be. By now the victim had a black eye and a broken nose. One of the goons was drawing out a knife from a sleeve.
Six didn't wait for them to strike again. Leaping from the roof he grabbed the knife nut by the back of his head midfall and slammed it into the ground. In that same instant, he rolled onto his feet and up at another one's face. Before he could react, Six grabbed his shoulders and headbutted the bastard. While he was dazed Six pulled off a Ranger takedown and brought his boot into the man's rib cage.
The last one stumbled onto his bottom and was crawling away. He shouted something at Six but once again he didn't understand a word he said. The Courier resorted to something more universal; He drew out his knife, grabbed the asshole by the collar, and held the blade up to his neck. Now he was staring into the wolfman's soul.
"[Terrifying Presence] If I were you, I'd best skedaddle while I'd still got legs." He snarled. "Now."
He threw the man to the ground and watched as he scrambled onto his feet. He left behind a trail of dust and ran off into some dark alley while his friends were rising back up. The knife-wielder brought his blade back out, but a firm hand grabbed him by the wrist. He yelped in pain as it snapped and spun around to see Croissant smirking. She stomped on the knife and shattered its edge, leaving only the hilt. Both remaining men panicked and ran after their buddy.
Six knelt down and helped the villager up. "You okay pal? Can you understand me?"
No response. Croissant managed to start a conversation with him in another tongue, though, and he seemed relieved. After a minute of back and forth, the girl turned back to the Courier.
"He'd like us to escort him to the nearest doctor," she informed him. "Just in case they or their buds come lookin' for payback."
Six pounded a fist into his palm, creaking his neck. "They're welcome to try," he said with a smile. "Think we can get a dictionary afterward? Or a bunch of travel guides? I'm really behind on my Ital- erm, Siacusean."
Croissant snickered. "We really need to get you a job," she said.
The walk to the doctor's office wasn't a long one. Croissant and the native took the lead while he covered their rear. In less than ten minutes they found the clinic. To their surprise, the place was already packed. People were either laying on mattresses or sitting in chairs. Some of the people appeared to be simply bruised, others with broken or even missing limbs. This brought back memories of Forlorn Hope and Old Mormon.
A nurse with rabbit ears came out from a door next to the registry counter. He let out a frustrated sigh as his eyes fell upon their guide. "Don't tell me," the Cautus said. "There's been another attack."
"Another?" said Six. "Those common around here?"
"Not until recently. Not since those greasers showed up and started a gang war."
Six looked at Croissant. "Hey, don't look at me,'' she said with a shrug. "Not like my buddies and I know everything goin' on."
Six stepped towards the aide while their guide took a seat. "You look like you're swamped here," Six observed. "Need a hand?"
"Please tell me you've got medical experience," said the nurse. "Last person that tried to help nearly amputated a patient's leg."
"[25 Medicine] I do. Had my fair share of scrapes to hone my skills."
The nurse didn't seem too convinced. "Let me call my boss," he said.
He hollered something in his native tongue. A woman with fox ears appeared out of the same door a few seconds later and glared at him. There was some fresh blood on her coat.
"What?" she asked. "Can't you see I'm busy?"
"This man wants to help us," he replied. "Think we should le-"
"By the Nine, you don't need to ask me. Especially during an operation! Give him some tools and let him get to work."
She slammed the door shut and rocked the building. The nurse and heroes covered their ears and winced in pain from the sharp noise.
"Don't mind her," the nurse said. "Her bedside manners have been slipping for the past few days," He pointed to another door. "Lemme unlock that for ya and you can take whatever you need."
As soon as the next door swung open, Six stepped inside. There were some cabinets and lockers, along with stands and medical trays. He also saw a chemistry set and a water fountain. Sx took some of the tools and found some Doctor's Bags in an open locker. He checked his own bag for chems. He had some of each from back home; Buffout, Fixer, Med-X, Hydra, Psycho, Healing Powder. There were still some Stimpaks and some of their Super variants left as well.
Six smiled. He rarely used any drugs himself, but he always kept a small supply for emergencies. He also betted that he could cook up some of them in this world too, or at least substitutes for them. Sadly this place didn't seem to have much in the chemistry department.
As soon as he gathered his supplies the Cautus gave him a medical report. It listed everything from the patients' IDs (or lack thereof), race, condition, and other notes. Thankfully it was all in English too. Most of these were rather basic; broken bones, cuts, and the odd burn here and there. Shouldn't be too difficult.
Six turned to Croissant. "You any good with a needle?" he asked.
The Forte shook her head. "Nope," she confessed. "But I might know of someone who is. Lemme head out for a bit and I'll bring 'em over."
Croissant left the building and Six began treating the people. For the next thirty minutes, he was placing braces on people or stitching wounds. While cleaning one off of a Feline- fairly obvious name there- the bunnyman knelt down beside him.
"Aren't you worried about that girl?" he asked. "This neighborhood isn't exactly the best place for a lady."
"She can handle herself," Six replied.
The Cautus's eyes furrowed. "Are you willing to bet that?"
"Dude, she saved my ass at Kazdel today. She threw me across the street to test out some armor and broke a goon's wrist. I think I can safely say that she'll be fine."
The man sighed. "But there's always a bigger fish," he said. "I've seen some of the new gangsters around here, and they've got some brutes on their side. She might be a Forte, but even her people have their limits."
As soon as Six finished his current patient, he flashed That Gun at him. He froze at the sight of the pistol.
"That's why I'm around," Six said. "I fought plenty of brutes in my life. Any goliath stupid enough to cross paths with me get's their brains blown out."
The man gulped as the Courier sheathed his gun. "What do you know about the gangs here?"
The man scratched his chin. "Well, we've got some greasers from outside the city. No idea where they came from, but they're already making a splash here. They've been picking fights with just about anything that moves. The local gang here is from one of the Mafia families in the capital. Extortionists and thieves, but they keep to themselves otherwise."
"Either group give this place trouble?"
"So far no. Guess they aren't interested in the crippled and wounded."
A bell rang and a door swung open. Six turned around and pointed his gun at whoever dared to enter. Thankfully it was Croissant with a short cloaked figure. The being's face was obstructed by a white fox mask, something clearly of Japanese design. He could see a golden foxtail or two poking out from under it. The antenna they carried quickly clued Six into their identity.
She didn't seem to recognize him, though, pointing her tool at him. It was only when she saw the gun that she calmed down. Croissant let out a nervous giggle.
"Brought our mutual friend here," she said. "She's willing to lend a hand."
Six couldn't help but notice that she didn't refer to Suzuran by name. He welcomed her over and she went to work on the remaining patients. They seemed more relaxed with her around, beaming with positivity even. Croissant tossed him something and he caught it. It was a small book, easy for him to pocket. The title was 'Traveler's Basic Dictionary: Victorian Edition.' He flipped through the pages to see quotes in a number of languages. Spanish, French, German, Russian, Japanese, Chinese, even some Native American tongues.
"Thanks," Six said. "This will be a lifesaver."
Six and Suzuran had finished tending to the patients in the lobby. Not long afterward the doctor entered it, the blood on her lab coat now drying off. She looked at the two strangers and placed a hand on her hips.
"Thanks for the aid," she said. "Glad to see that there's still some good in the world."
"You wouldn't happen to have any reward for the effort, would you?" Six asked.
"Not in the economic department, sorry," she said. "But I could give you some supplies or books if you'd like."
"Books sound nice. I am a bit rusty on my Medicine skills."
The woman went back to the operating room and brought out some magazines and books. Six placed those in his backpack and left the building with the ladies. Croissant looked at her watch and frowned. It was 9 PM. Past time to head back to base. She motioned for the others to follow and they exited the clinic.
The girl was rather twitchy during the trip back. Her gaze was constantly shifting from one spot to the next. Six couldn't help but do the same, hovering a hand over one of his holsters. Only Croissant seemed to be at ease, leading the way as before. Seeing her like this did calm Six down, but not the little girl. What could she be afraid of?
Someone leaped out from behind a fountain and tried to crush Suzuran with a hammer. She rolled just in time to dodge it, leaving him open for a blow from Criossant's own weapon. One hit was all it took to knock him out cold. Five more goons popped out and surrounded them, mainly wielding melee weapons.
Six was tempted to draw a gun out, but he shot the idea down. No, that was going to bring attention to him (and by extension, his allies). He drew out Chance's Knife instead, assuming a combat stance. He scanned each goon, trying to study them. One of them was struggling with holding a weapon in his hand. His other one appeared to be in a cast.
That same gangster was sneering at Croissant, pointing an accusing finger at her. He shouted something to all of his friends and their focus shifted onto her. There's no doubt, this was one of the thugs they encountered earlier. The other two were nowhere to be seen, however. They must've abandoned them after the last run-in. These thugs on the other hand didn't seem to be as smart.
One of them approached her with a two-handed axe, with a buzzsaw attached to it no less. The goon flicked it on and grinned as he got close. Croissant was ready to spring at him with her shield, but Six took the initiative. He slashed across the man's cheek and over his eye, causing him to jump.
"That was just a warning shot," the Courier said. "Any closer and it's off with your head."
That stunt only angered the greaser. He unleashed a frenzy of slashes, trying to hack the hero into pieces. Six danced around the buzzsaw and managed to slip a cut or two of his own. He ended the man's life with a stab in the throat, cutting his windpipe. While the body fell another goon managed to flank him and bash his head in with a bat. Six lay there dazed as the asshole reeled up for another swing.
Croissant brought her hammer down on him before he could do the same. Despite her strength, the man was merely stunned by the attack. How he survived was beyond Six's guess. A shout caught their attention and they saw another creep chasing after Suzuran. Six took a knife from the deadman's jacket and threw it at the bastard. It embedded itself into his back but it wasn't a killing blow. All it did was shift his attention towards Six.
He snarled and pulled out a wand. A burst of black hit Six in the chest, but he shrugged it off. He charged towards the wizard and danced around more bolts as he drew closer. He swung Chance's Knife at his throat, but he brought his arm up in time to catch it. He screeched as the Courier gave it a twist, slicing the limb off. The knife then buried itself into the side of his skull. He was dead before he hit the floor.
Two more goons hopped into the battle. One of them was carrying a crossbow while the other dual-wielded maces. The latter easily towered over everyone and had a face resembling a Super Mutant. He had some horns too, but they seemed more organic than the demonic ones of a Sarkaz. Was he one or from a similar race? He didn't have time to ponder as a bolt struck him in the chestplate.
He ducked and rolled behind a trash can, the disposal unit taking another bolt for him. Six made a dash towards another towards a telephone booth, duking behind it and drawing out his crossbow. He heard someone stomping towards him and turned to see the strongman again. This time he threw both hammers at the Courier, forcing him to roll out of cover.
Glass and shrapnel exploded between the combatants, forcing Six to cover his face. A fist sent him flying into a wall, knocking the wind outta his lungs. He felt a rib snap as he fell onto his knees. He heard the giant charging at him with a battle cry. Then he heard a strange sound. A 'bling' or 'ding', maybe a chime. The man was caught in a stasis field.
Six saw Suzuran holding out her antenna, levitating. The solar panels on her tool were glowing with a brilliant golden light. As soon as that energy made contact with the Courier, the pain subsided. This second wind allowed him to maneuver around the bastard and out of harm's way. He spotted one of the hammers sticking out of the rubble. He grinned as he pulled it out and swung it at the nearest legs.
The man returned to normal space-time and let out a scream of agony. Bones snapped under the hammer's weight and he dropped to the floor. Before he could rise another one hit him on the side of the head. Croissant winked at Six before being pushed back by the bowman. He tackled the asshole to the ground and shoved his knife between his eyes. He didn't get back up.
The last two gangsters had turned their attention to Suzuran. While she was pelting them with magical bolts, one of them got close enough to grab her by the throat. She hammered him with the rod but he didn't seem to notice. He pulled back her hood and removed her mask. As soon as he saw her face he did a double-take and dropped her. He was babbling like mad and Six could only pick out a single word in that jumbled mess; Lisa. It sounded like her name. Her identity...
Six drew out That Gun and fired a couple of bullets into the man's skull. The rest of the clip went into his buddy. One in the throat, two in the chest. Suzuran reeled back as she watched the goons drop like flies. While Six was reloading she quickly retrieved her mask and propped up her hood. Croissant approached her and knelt to her level.
"Ya alright kid?" she asked.
Suzuran nodded. "I'm fine. I just got caught off guard by them. It won't happen again."
Six joined in on the conversation. "Sorry you had to see the bloodshed, lass." he apologized. "Couldn't help but fall into instinct."
"It's okay. This isn't my first time seeing… someone's lights go out."
Six whipped the blood off of Chance's Knife and sheathed it. "We should get moving before more people show up."
Suruzan nodded. Six took the front while Croissant took the rear. The Vulpo stayed between them, trying to keep her head down. The Courier had That Gun out and was scanning the area like crazy. Without ED-E or his Pip-Boy he felt pretty vulnerable. No motion tracker to pick up movement or VATS to aid in targeting. ED-E was pretty useful for picking out cloakers back in the Mojave. He had none of those right now and it was putting him on edge.
The trip back lasted for several minutes. Six practically held his breath until they made it inside the subhouse. The cashier and the cooks were nowhere to be seen. The bunker likewise was more or less a ghost town. Everybody must've gone to the barracks by now.
Suzuran tore the mask off of her face and cast it aside once they were in the bunker. Croissant yawned and stretched her arms out.
"Whoo, I'm beat," she said. "I dunno about y'all, but I think I'll hit the hay for tonight."
Six was the next to stretch his limbs. "I need to see a certain gearhead about some tech before I can call it a day."
Suzuran was silent for a good minute. Both her comrades were starting to get a bit worried before she spoke up.
"I should be getting some rest too," she finally said.
Without another word, she left the party. Six wasn't gonna let her off the hook easily, though. Something's going on around here and she was connected somehow. He was sure of it. He would've given chase, but Croissant stopped him.
"I know that look," she said. "You smell something fishy an' you wanna get to the bottom of it."
Six looked back at her. "Was it really that obvious?"
"Yep. And I don't blame you for whatever conspiracy theories you're conjurin' up right now. But now's not the best time to ask her questions. Especially after we jus' pulled her outta mortal danger."
Six turned his gaze away from the Forte. "Yet she came to this town anyway. She knew something like this might happen and she still went with y'all. Why else would she try to keep a low profile?"
Croissant placed a hand on his arm. "That's her business. And if she doesn't want to divulge her story to you, you should respect her decision. Diggin' 'round would just hurt her. And besides, my buds an' I haven't been snooping around in yers, have we?"
Six didn't like that last comment. He turned to look her dead in the eye. "Is that a threat?" he asked.
"Just pointing some things out. Give her some time to catch her breath."
"The gangs outside might beg to differ. She has intel on them and I doubt-"
"We ain't amateurs, Six. We're professionals. Slime like those thugs washes off real easy. We'll be fine."
Six removed her hand from his shoulder. "It ain't the thugs that worry me," he said.
The Courier split off from the horn-girl and made his way back to the repair shop. The birdman was finishing up the Pip-Boy when he walked in. He was about to say something when he saw him. The elder backed up against the wall and drew out a magnum from a holster on his leg. ED-E got between the two of them and beeped at the elder, trying to calm him down. Six slapped himself for not expecting this kinda reaction.
"How's ED-E?" he asked.
The elder relaxed and approached the young man. "You? Jeez, you just gave me a heart attack. I could've shot you," He chided as he sheathed his weapon. "But to answer your question, he's fine. Been all quiet while I finished that PDA. Certainly has better manners than you, though. Seriously, you could've at least knocked."
"Sorry," Six apologized. "Didn't really occur to me that not everyone would recognize me."
"Well, next time be more careful."
The man grumbled under his breath and resumed his work. Six sighed as he took out his Ranger helmet from his backpack and placed it on the table.
"Can you switch out the radio on this thing too?" he requested. "It used to be connected to the Pip-Boy and ED-E before the incident."
The man finished piecing the Pip-boy back together and picked up the helm. "Hmm, that might not technically be necessary. Lemme have a look."
The man pried open the commlink with that screwdriver. "Hmm, no Originium. No surprise there. Fairly simple in comparison to the whatchamacallit. Shouldn't take too long."
The man knelt down and began rustling through some spare parts. Six decided to give his shop another look around. All sorts of parts were piled up in bins and drawers around him. Not just electronics, but mechanical parts too. He's seen some pieces of tech too, TVs and computers and whatnot. Some of the latter seemed portable if the attached keyboard were any indication.
Then Six noticed a sewing basket sitting atop some boxes. He gently removed the basket and peeked inside the containers. Leather, cloth, plastic, even some metal. Six took some of the materials and a needle. He smiled as he took out his Elite Riot Gear and began patching up its duster. Once all of the holes and cuts had been sewn shut, he placed the armor back into his backpack.
The man had finished installing the new radio and handed the helmet and the Pip-boy to him. Right off the bat Six noticed a number of changes. For one the screen was brand new, all glossy-like. For another, the knobs and dials have been moved around a bit too. Hell, the casing itself felt different too. Six glanced down to see the old casing and buttons for his Pipboy neatly tucked in a shoebox. Booting it up revealed the changes in hardware.
Pip-OS v
COPYRIGHT 2075 ROBCO(R)
LOADER V1.1
EXEC VERSION 41.10
16GB RAM SYSTEM
5 TERABYTES FREE
NO HOLOTAPE FOUND
LOAD ROM(1): DEITRIX 303
The interface had been updated. Now the tabs were STAT, INV, DATA, MAP, and RADIO. While he was swiping through each of them, a completely different interface loaded out of nowhere. Six gave the pip-boy a quick tap and accidentally opened something up. Some kind of gallery. Must be a biometric device underneath. Six was scratching his head trying to figure out how to close the thing when the man came to his rescue. He pushed down on the bottom and slid his finger some. The window shrunk and he brought his digit all the way up.
"Guess they don't have any smart devices back home, do they?" the birdman asked.
Six shook his head. "This… is honestly overwhelming for me," he admitted. "Uh, I don't usually ask for help, but…"
The man chuckled. "Don't worry, I'm used to teaching folk how to run things. Let me show you a few tricks."
For the next two hours, they discussed and fiddled around with the latest technological trends. The man- 'Hoover' he claimed his name was- taught him the basics on smart screens, Bluetooth, wireless connections, the web, emails, streaming, radios. He showed him how to use applications, create accounts, security, antimalware, web safety 101. He showed him how to surf the web, what sites he'd recommend, and ones he'd steer clear of. He also gave him some fair warnings about digital transactions and subscriptions.
But the biggest thing he showed them was how he managed to compress the entire Pip-Boy's data into a single app. On the front page was the face of the iconic Vault Boy. And to Six's relief, tapping it brought up the old interface again. All of the notes and holo-recordings he had previously gathered had been converted into a type of file and uploaded into the machine. It should also be capable of copying and/or transferring files between storage mediums now.
When class was dismissed, Six shook Hoover's hand. "Thanks for the lecture," he said. "Maybe now I can finally get some rest. Where're the barracks?"
"Down to your right. Mostly bunk beds but there're probably private rooms for more shy folk."
Six picked up his helm and placed it in his pack. He gave the man a quick nod and was about to leave the exit when he remembered something; payment.
Shit. Six thought to himself. Hope he doesn't mind late fees.
"So um… What's the cost for all those upgrades?" he asked nervously.
"Nothing. Exusiai took care of payment while you were gone."
Six blinked. "Wait, the gun-chick?"
"Yep. Probably as an apology for the… incident with one of your weapons. You should thank her when you get the chance."
Six was still trying to process what he just heard. That crazy girl actually paid for his gear while he was away?
"I'll be sure to do that in the morning. For now, g'night."
Six waved and exited the repair shop. The man waited for a few minutes before taking a couple of flash drives. Both had copies of the Pip-boy's original database. One for himself, one for his employers. He felt a bit guilty about hiding these from him but you could never be too careful these days. That man was an unknown variable and he could go on a rampage any minute now. And besides, he had some interesting listening material.
The man plugged a drive into his PDA and opened the program up. He navigated his way to the Misc slot in inventory and selected a particular folder; The Wasteland Codex.
"After the massive success of the T-45 in Alaska, the scientists at West-Tek continued their work on power armor…"
Six meanwhile was making his way to the barracks. He probably could rent one on the surface, but didn't have the money to pay the fees. And besides, his gut has been rather jumpy since they arrived on the scene. He didn't want to sleep on the bunk beds, too exposed. Even if ED-E were to guard him they'd see his real face. Wouldn't take long to find out he's an alien.
Thankfully one of the backrooms was open. A king-sized bed and a couple of nightstands, plus space for some luggage. Six set his backpack down and locked the door. Piece by piece he removed his disguise until he was in a tank top and boxers. The young man then plopped down on the mattress and crawled under some blankets. Felt just like the Presidential Suite back at the Lucky 38.
"Think you can handle the night shift from here?" Six yawned.
ED-E emitted a confident bleep. "Thanks… Been one hell of a day."
ED-E let out some concerned beeps. "Them? I don't think we need to worry about them. You still got that cannon, right? And the ArmCo workbench?"
ED-E responded with a positive beep. "Good. I think I can afford to be more lenient with Energy weapons so long as you can make the MFCs."
Six stretched his arms one last time before sinking into the bed. "Well, night buddy."
ED-E chirped as Six turned out the lights. It hovered over next to him, facing the door. If anyone was foolish enough to break in, they'll be in for a massive headache.
Unfortunately, a future complication was lying in wait outside the subhouse. Standing around in the corner of the street was a Lupo in a grey tuxedo. The man typed a number into his smartphone and brought it to his ear. He waited for it to finish ringing before a distorted voice picked up the line.
"What do you want, meatbag?" It snarled. "This better be good."
"The Lily and the Penguin have entered the Pond. Repeat, the Lily and the Penguin have entered the Pond."
A/N:
And here we go. Day one of our adventure on Terra has come to an end. And already he's making waves with some of the locals.
Exusiai was thrown into the cast for similar reasons as most other Operators present. She has an alternate costume for an environment that wouldn't be out of place in Fallout, but she's not justified in wearing it right now. That, and I have chosen her to be a bit of a foil to Six. Similar fighting styles, different personalities, and experiences. We'll be seeing more interactions between them down the line.
Some of you might be wondering why we moved from Kazdel to Siracusa. I blame the rerun of the Code of Brawl event. It reminded me that there were some mafias in the Fallout universe, and I thought it'd make sense to integrate that element into here.
If it ain't obvious by now, the Manto d'argento and Coastal Marine are based on the Silver Shroud attire and Marine armor from Fallout 4. I figured that the former would fit in the noir/mafia kinda background for Da Vinci.
Pete's Super Subs is a reference to Pete's Super Submarines, better known today as Subway. I thought it'd be funny to place it here given Arknihgts' own homages to real-world companies and brands.
EDIT:
Some people pointed out a couple of things. One, leaving Hoover to work on ED-E and the Pipboy without supervision. Hell, looking back on previous chapters, the only thing that really needed to be fixed was his internal workbench. There wasn't much need for a direct upgrade of the actual hardware. Guess that plothole flew by me during beta. The Pipboy on the other hand Six isn't too worried about. Probably because whatever data could be copied by them would be worthless. At least to most parties in his mind.
Another person reminded me that the Junk Rounds perk existed. There's a slight problem with that. You need 5 tin cans, one scrap metal, and one case. All just to make a single bullet. Might be good for pistols, not so much for rapid-fire weapons. Pack Rat could help with the weight issue for supplies if memory serves, but that's about it.