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For Want of Civilisation (Fallout)
Chapter 7 – Emancipation and Faith

Chapter 7 – Emancipation and Faith

Interlude - Frank I

Not in a thousand years did he think he would be stuck in a vault with a hundred or so ghouls trying to eat his penis. Yes, penis. Most of the ghouls were midgets, barely taller than Leon, who tried to claw his prized possession! It would be a disaster for womankind if I lost this!

He aimed and with six successive shots, he downed six ghouls – obliterating their heads in the process. He reached towards his bandolier, intending to feed his Sweet Bessy more bullets. Frank was reloading his bullet on the third cylinder when a ghoul dropped out of an air vent. The ghoul would’ve eaten half his head if it weren’t for his swift reaction.

A combat roll later he surveyed his surroundings with growing dismay. There were three air vents, and each one disgorged a murderous moving corpse. There was no problem, his magnum and bullets permanently put them out of their misery.

The fourth ghoul who hid behind a crate jumped out, but Frank saw it in time and slashed out with his machete, bisecting it in half.

He had to get back to the group. Sure, they were limiting him, but he was being paid fist over buckets to protect Leon. And as much as he wants to deny it, the boy has grown on him.

The lad was special from the very moment he laid his eyes on him. The boy had an unnaturally sharp eye and spoke with eloquence, trouncing people many years his senior. He would bet a hundred dollars that he was the smartest man – well boy, in the room.

When he turned the corner, he saw his charge standing completely still with a device on his left arm.

A powerful wave of nostalgia came over him forcing memories of the Chosen One into his head. It was as if the Chosen One was right in front of him. Leon’s muscles in his arms, shoulders and upper back moved with unnatural speed – allowing him to mow down dozens of ghouls.

It wasn’t supposed to happen. His service rifle only holds a magazine of twenty, 5.56mm rounds, yet with his trained eyes, he was able to see the brief pause of relentless gunfire and see Leon reloading at breakneck speed.

Just like the Chosen One. He remembered the legendary hero fighting off multiple platoons of New Reno bastards, succeeding where multiple Stockmens, including him, failed. It was a close-run thing. An ambush, likely ordered by that jetted shit John Bishop, with the aim of killing his boss, Roger Westin. Because of his heroic actions, Roger Westin was saved and prevented Frank from losing his honour.

Frank was grateful. Losing his boss to an attack would’ve crippled his career. No one would hire him to protect their cattle. He would’ve lived in crippling poverty. In fact, he'd rather live with meagre money instead of relying on his older brother.

It wasn’t just down to pride, even though it was a massive reason, but his personal disdain for politicians. Owing a politician a favour is akin to a devil owning your soul; it’s just not worth it! Especially not to his older brother who bullied him back when he was a kid.

And now that he’s guarding a famous scientist, he suddenly pops out of nowhere and demanded brotherly affection.

He wanted to cut his brother out of his life then and there, but for some reason, he drank with him. The two shared what they’ve done for years and reminisced about their childhood. Of course, he said sorry. But Frank didn’t believe a single word. He was the defence minister and wanted some information about Leon - he was sure of it.

He knew the slimeball was a manipulative fucker and was keen on slathering his tentacles all over his charge. Leon was a smart kid and knew things no one knew. Practically, he was above and beyond his peers.

Frank was worried the kid would go all arrogant and get lazy, resting on his unachievable laurels. Yet the kid surprised him and asked for shooting practice! Brian Frederik had already confided how Leon was already trained in how to aim and shoot. In fact, Frank wasn't willing to believe Brian when he admitted he lost against his son in a war game. Not once, twice but a half a dozen times!

Sure, Brian wasn’t part of the military since he was too old to enrol in one of those fancy military academies Slimy Wendell built across the country. However, surely he at least would’ve won against his son who was seven years old at the time.

The hundred ghouls who mindlessly charged against Leon on a lengthy and unobstructed corridor were cut down to a few ones and one of them radiated a sickly green hew. Oh, no! Realisation turned to horrific dismay.

Hours spent studying the history of pre-NCR, the Children of the Cathedral and the Unity were rumoured to have created a ‘master piece creation’. A creation that would bless the world with a ‘benevolent’ green glow, possibly turning humans into ghouls or mutants. Frank and his fellow historians didn’t know whether this was a legend spread by ignorant paupers or real and scientific truth. Looks like he was about to find out, in a rather undesirable way.

Leon filled the ghoul with a spray of bullets – all hitting and staggering the green creature.

“Why hath thou seek to come into my own abode and dareth harm me and mine own subjects?”

The thing spoke! What in Dharma hells was happening?

That seemed to have stopped the Simmon's squadron as if they were hit by a train. Confusion roared into fear and anger. Anger screamed into hundreds of bullets interspersed by Frank’s .44 calibre rounds.

His arms grew weak and fatigued causing him to take a few seconds of rest, whilst trying to see through a haze of smoke.

“Enough! Your petty tricks will not work on me! Just as I have led my people to destroy the otherwallers, I shall destroy you too!” Blobs of green swiftly turned into spears and struck out towards them. All but one dodged. The hapless trooper was held in strict green bondage as he clutched a fusion core close to his chest.

The unfortunate trooper cried out as green plasma enveloped him from toe to head. The fusion core he was grabbing onto was humming before vibrating violently as plasma surrounded it.

“The core’s getting critical! Get back all of you- Uggh!” Leon screamed out as his body paralysed into a rigid statue. There was no time, Frank leapt towards Leon just as he was starting to fall and placed him on his shoulder. Heeding his charge’s warning, he and the NCR troopers, rapidly retreated down the corridor and jumped into one of the side rooms.

A wave of blue flashed out, thankfully touching no one.

“What the hell was that?!” A plain and spectacled woman, with an insignia showing three golden chevrons, said. Frank noticed that she was a sergeant which made her more attractive. Perhaps she has greater stamina than normal women, if she’s willing, I can test it, Frank felt a smack from his head.

“Oy! I know that look! It’s not a good time to sleep with someone!” Leon struggled on top of his shoulders. “And let me down, please. I’m not too experienced using my pipboy, hence my temporary state of being locked in. It made me faster, more agile and slowed the world down!”

“That’s reassurin’, but pipboys are just tools. It’s not supposed to give you super abilities. And it’s definitely not supposed to make you paralysed!” At least from his limited experience with Brotherhood scribes, gave him the broad abilities of the wrist watch.

“What do you mean? Didn’t you see me mow those zombies down in mere minutes?! I swear to you, it felt like an hour for me!”

Frank didn’t want to contradict Leon and accepted his word from what it was. To be fair, it may have a hint of truth from the way the Chosen One eliminated those Reno cunts.

Their conversation was interrupted by a heated argument between the spectacled sergeant and Simmons.

“We need to rescue Owens!”

“He’s a gonner, Rita! Can’t you accept it?! If that green monstrosity didn’t finish him off, then that blue ray might’ve just done it,” Lieutenant Jeff Simmons said. Hang on. Her name is Rita? Excellent, Frank thought.

“We put hundreds of bullets into that thing! We can take it out and rescue Owens! And we don’t even know what that blue ray was!”

Leon coughed for their attention then started to speak, “That blue ray is Cherenkov radiation coming from a nuclear species that became critical. It most likely came from the fusion core’s plutonium-239.”

“There you have it. The scientist has spoken. Private George Owens is dead regardless. We need to leave,” Simmons shot Leon an accusatory glare, “We needed to leave yesterday but a certain someone led us into our deaths.”

The criticism slid off Leon’s back seamlessly, “The Glowing One, is blocking our path. It seems quite insistent on killing us all. It's a shame really. Had I known it was capable of speaking, I would've have preferred to use diplomacy.”

In a shocking amount of speed and agility, the monstrosity seemed to have teleported in front of them and said, “Diplomacy is useless whence you came into our utopia and slaughtered my lambs! Now be prepared to die.”

More bullets later, the monster was pushed back away from the room. Frank thought victory was in hand when it slumped into the ground, unmoving. But that was not to be as the Glowing One stood back up and readied ten spear-like projectiles, each spear for every single one of them.

I should've spoken up against Leon when he suggested going inside the vault. I thought we had killed the vast majority of ferals and the few left inside were not enough to be life-threatening. Perhaps I was too greedy, perhaps we were all greedy. Frank ruminated and regretted his actions or lack thereof. At the very least, Wendell and I made up. That should give Mamma and the old man some relief. I still haven't forgotten what he’s done because his reason for reaching out was suspect, but it was great talking to him again.

“Don’t lose faith. Don’t prepare to die, yet.” Leon said with comforting certainty.

"How do you think we're going to get out of this alive?!" Jeff, the ever-sceptic, shouted desperately for an answer.

"Time and time again, exposure to intense amounts of radiation in a very short period of time can either kill or transform a human body. There’s still a chance Private Owens can save us all.”

“Really!” Rita, the muscular sergeant, exclaimed with a cheer on her face. For some reason that made Frank delight in her smile, and at the same, annoyed at the fact she was cheering on another man.

Just as Leon predicted a powerful blue ray pulsed across the corridor and viciously collided with the green monster.

The group saw a man, with a halo of bright blue, walk across the corridor and took the time to grin. “This is pretty sweet! I was going to sell the core and retire happily, but this power beats it!”

“You go, Georgie! Whoo!” Frank’s fist tensed hearing the lass cheer for this blue freak. Yeah, sure he was about to save them, but that’s the least he can do. Nothing special.

The boy turned his face away, scratched his head and blushed so intensely that the blue aura surrounding him started to wither. Excuse me what?! That lad is a pathetic virgin! I bet his balls haven't dropped yet! Why does he get the power and admiration from a pretty lass?

Ten green projectiles shot out and were about to pierce the lad but a blue shield willed itself into existence in front of the flinching boy. “Oh neat! I have a force field!”

“It’s quite clear he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” Leon deadpanned as he understated the grievous situation they were all in.

“So, should I start to prepare to die?” Frank asked.

“Both of you have no faith! Trust in Georgie! He’ll save us!”

The Lieutenant seemed to have enough and said, “Private Owens, I order you to take out that creature!”

“Don’t worry! I intend to, Sir!” The blue boy saluted and frowned, busying himself to will a blue ray out of nowhere, whilst the glowing ghoul spawned more projectiles. The scene mimicked the Mexican standoff often shown in films before the bombs fell. It looked cool as Frank felt goosebumps form on his skin. This is exciting! From the squadron’s reaction, he wasn’t the only one.

“Beat his arse, Georgie!”

“Owens, gimme some of your powers after this!”

“Ten dollars, if he wins against that thing in ten minutes!”

“Bet!” One of the troopers raised a ten-dollar bill.

“Don’t mean to be a killjoy, but we ought to leave. The exit is clear, all thanks to Private Owens.”

Frank was busy forking out a few dollar bills when he heard Leon and guffawed. “Come on, kid! We nearly just died, let us ‘ave our fun, will ya?" A series of agreements sounded which only made Leon stomp his feet.

“Those two are highly radioactive beings. Just being near them is causing immense amount of radiation damage in our bodies. It's unseen for now, thanks to the rad-x we consumed hours ago, but just in case," Leon took out a plastic bottle of pills and dispensed ten pills. "Take these. Hopefully, the radiation hasn’t already damaged our cells.”

That was enough to dampen their fun.

“Mister Frederik is right! Now, squad! Move out! That’s an order!”

“Sir, yes, sir!” They fanned out of the room, straight through the grey hallway and legged it. He saw some spilling a few golden coins in their mad dash.

Frank saw Leon turn back, “Another blast of radiation incoming! To the rooms! Get out of the corridor!” They all listened and with organised precision quickly went inside as a spiral of blue and sickly green radiation ray engulfed the hallway.

In, out, in, out, this procedure was repeated until they were near the exit.

“What’s going to happen to Owens?!”

“Have faith, Mularkey! Georgie will kill it. We will just have to wait.”

The group carrying all sorts of loot from intact circuitry, energy rifles and a few golden bars and silver ornaments jutted out of their pockets. Frank huffed in satisfaction as he took out a golden necklace with a ruby pendant - it was eerily similar to Leon’s Gold Branch medal.

“What a rollercoaster! I thought we were going to drown at the number of ghouls until Mr Frederik mowed them all down. Only to be nearly killed by a glowing one, on serious chems, and saved by Private Owens. What a day.” Jeff Simmons rattled out. He fidgeted his wrist to reveal an expensive-looking watch, "I must say, Frederik, you've nearly killed us but thank you. If you excuse me, I have a looong report to write down. Captain Kimball needs to be briefed.”

"It's good to work with people who only care for the end, not the means.”

Frank sneered at that, “He was bitchin’-busy complainin’ at you the entire time!” And now that he’s got something to show for it, he’s licking your arse.

“I don’t mind. To be fair I was also blaming myself. But now I’ve got what I want!” Leon gleamed and pushed a few buttons on his pipboy’s interface. “This VATS is super-helpful! I’ll be able to massacre hundreds within mere minutes with this.”

The cowboy slightly shivered and smiled to disguise being disturbed by a mere ten-year-old. Brian hired me to not just protect him but to intimidate others who undermine Leon's authority. But with the way the kid has been acting up, he could handle himself without me standing right behind him.

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“What do you think is going to happen with the blue guy?”

“Nothing much. It’ll probably be better if he and the glowing one killed each other.”

Whew. He didn't expect that type of callousness from Leon. Not from a kid who pleaded for a tribal savage to be saved and insisted on busting a slave ring. "What do you mean?” Frank said a little sharply as he noticed Leon tensing his shoulders and clenching his jaw. “Surely, the OSI and the Ministry of Defence will be interested in him.”

His charge was about to say something only to forcefully shut himself up with a palm covering his mouth. Frank noticed something was amiss. He briefly remembered titbits his brother, Wendell, shared – a war was brewing. And somehow this war is making mutants like Owens, undesirable. It didn’t make sense. The blue mutant would make a fine addition to the Armed Forces but why did Leon hesitate on his potential usefulness?

"Don't worry about it," Leon gave him a wry grin, completely unapologetic for omitting intriguing information.

“Whatever. Keep yer secrets, kid.”

Leon nodded and came straight through the squad, "Thank you for following me to the depths of hell. Without you, I wouldn't have acquired this," he pointed at his pipboy, “However, I would like to sincerely apologise for leading you all to near death.”

“Don’t sweat it, kid! We’re adults. We knew what we agreed to do. Plus, I’m now rich thanks to you!” The lady sergeant rustled his hair causing Frank to burn in envy. That should be me you’re doing that too!

With a chorus of thanks and gratitude Leon said, “You have your orders to guard this vault. But that doesn’t apply to me. I’ll head down to the enemy base. Once again, thank you all.”

Walking in the middle of the day was enough to make him sweat and it was making him think about what happened in the vault. "You looked like you were glued into that terminal, care to share what you’ve read?”

“Of course.”

After he was done, Frank felt his blood grow hotter and hotter, unable to contemplate the cruelty of Vault-Tec.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was bearing down on me and it was taking an enormous toll on my body. I didn't bother engaging in small talk to Frank, to preserve as much moisture to my parched throat. Water was getting scarcer and might as well ration that as much as possible.

I saw my pipboy blink red then pinged - ‘You are dehydrated’. Well – how useful. I took a few swigs from my bottle. I swirled the water inside and hummed in approval as it sounded like it was only halfway full.

I blocked the sunlight and stared into the horizon and spotted a wall made of twigs and rusted metal, sitting on a tall hill.

That must be Clan Derrick's base. And from the cracks of gunfire, a siege is underway. "Looks like we're just on time, Frank.”

“Out of the danger and into the other. The gunfire seems sporadic, so it could be just a skirmish.”

“Indeed. Another opportunity to test my pipboy.” And woe to the slaving tribals that get in my way. They will be reaped like a wheat of bushels!

I had to calm down and remind myself lest I overdo it like last time. If it weren't for Frank, my skin would be peeling off as the intense radiation destroyed my cell's ability to replicate!

Shaking the bottle of rad-x made me more frustrated. I wish I had more of this. Instead of hundreds of antivenom. We didn’t even encounter a single ‘cazador’! I’m confident our expedition will be able to shoot them down before they inject their poison into us if the book, I read is accurate. A mosquito can’t be half my size. It’s not scientifically possible.

Anyway, rad-x is one of these depleting drugs that’ll disappear one day. Scavengers who brave the dangers of vaults and pre-war military installations and get a few readable blueprints, on how to manufacture this will be as rich as a Redding banker. I’m hoping for the day one of them finds it. I’ll have to brace paying a ludicrous amount for it though, but it’ll be worth it.

Or I could have Frederik Chemicals find a way to synthesise it. I think I may know how it works – by creating some sort of boundary around the nucleus, making the DNA more resistant to ionising radiation. But it’s easier said than done and I currently have limited resources and most of it is making weapons for the OSI, and making useless antivenom!

“You okay, kid? You looked like you drank pure lemon juice from the way you’re bitin’ your lip.”

“Just thinking of overhauling and prioritising my R&D department by the time we set up fully functioning mines in the Grand Canyon.”

“I swear, you live far too much in the future. Learn to live in the present. Less stress that way.” I would have to admit that there was a lot of wisdom in Frank’s statement however I have to plan ahead. War with the Brotherhood of Steel was imminent and from a radio with Tandi back in Needles, they are asking the NCR to start detaining mutants. Of course, bless her heart, she is going to delay that as much as possible.

Theories were swirling inside me and it settled on one reason. The Brotherhood of Steel has pivoted in its policy on mutants ever since Jeremy Maxson became the Elder. I had to sympathise with him. The war with the super mutants of Unity was downright ruinous and now powerful beings like the Glowing One and Private Owens are appearing like raindrops in the sky.

It didn't help that the ghouls of Necropolis were on the verge of cracking the secrets of T-45 power armours and piston engines that'll power propeller aeroplanes.

I bit my lips again. For some reason, the Brotherhood is doing its best to limit the technological growth of the NCR. Did they see us as a threat? We’re the only hope in a post-apocalyptic world! They should help instead of limiting us! Shaking my head to get rid of the incoming anger, I focussed on the situation at hand.

We were stopped by a pair of troopers. “Halt, state your business!”

I let Frank do his magic. The cowboy dramatically tilted his stetson hat and advanced, “Relax, soldiers. We’re here to speak with Captain Kimball.”

The pair looked at us with suspicion. “The only civilians we have is back at the vault. Except for that red-skinned tribal.” He spat with disdain.

I already knew he was talking about Winnemucca and I couldn’t tolerate it, “Be careful what you say trooper, Winnemucca is a valuable acquaintance of mine. I’ll not have you insult him in front of me.” What can I say? I protect my own and I’m proud of that.

One of the slim troopers who said the derogatory insult jerked his head downwards and laughed, prompting the other to join in. Calm down, Leon. Calm down. "Oh, you were there. Sorry. Didn’t see you because of how little you are. But you don’t get to threaten us or I’ll have you arrested.”

This was a shame. Truly a disappointment. My past experience with the military was that they were professional and courteous. The two buffoons in front were clearly the bad apples. I signalled Frank to take out his magnum revolver causing the two to retaliate with their service rifles. I pulled out my notebook, cleared my throat and asked, “What are your names?”

“We-What? Excuse me?!”

Tsk. I made sure to click my tongue as forcefully and audibly as possible. "I'll not repeat my question. What are your names? President Tandi is looking for eager volunteers in the Baja.”

That got their face to discolour to a sickly shade of pink. “The Captain is available at his command tent." Finally, they recognised who I was. Bunch of idiots.

I was led to a camp surrounded by a dirt wall and a ditch. “Bloody ‘ell, they were busy. How long were we in that vault?”

“I think a day or two, Frank. Again, my fault. My insistence on reading from that heavy terminal was what delayed us.”

“It’s fine. I got what I needed and most of Simmon’s squad also got theirs. All good. No harm done. Except for that guy who had a chunk of his leg bit off. Oh, and the blue guy. You reckon he killed the green ghoul?”

“It no longer matters. We’re out and that’s what’s most important." I suppressed a shiver and swallowed as much dread as possible. I cannot let the Brotherhood’s eyes wander in Arizona. I have a sneaking suspicion, that Ben and most of the Navarro technicians were somewhere in North Arizona, perhaps Utah and Nevada. Whatever - they were close. I couldn’t risk the operational security of Ben and the technicians, by having the Steel Plague sniffing close to me. I didn’t want to risk my brother’s life.

We entered the camp through a hastily built drawbridge over the ditch where we were greeted by the Buzzcut. He pointed us inside his tent.

I made sure to sit in one of the barrels, whilst Frank remained standing behind me.

“When did I tell you, you could sit down?”

“When I assumed you were polite. I can tell you're in a bit of a mood, so please tell me what I could do to help?"

Aaron Kimball growled, “That’s saying it too lightly. You made my soldiers disobey their orders! Yet you expect me to follow orders from that bloody pacifist!”

Time to deploy the art of misdirection and avoidance, just as Mamma taught me. “Your orders were to guard the vault. Never in your orders did you specify where to guard.”

“Excuse me what! Obviously, I meant the entrance!”

“And Lieutenant Jeff Simmons interpreted it as somewhere inside. Tactically sound too. The entrance was wider and harder to guard as opposed to the vault’s corridor where we could stand side by side, three ranks deep.”

“But that wasn’t the case, wasn’t it?”

I felt too disadvantaged by where this was going since it was clear Jeff had already given Bristling Buzzcut a briefing. “What did the Lieutenant say?” I should’ve waited a bit and liaised with Jeff about what he was going to report.

“That you caused his men to mutiny by promising them loot.” And what else? Also, you bloody hypocrite! You were planning to replace Edward as the leader. Squashing as much contempt as I could - I waved for him to continue. “Then having one of my men turn into a blue mutant. You realise I can try you for causing disorder and contempt of the military?”

I called his bluff out, “But you won't. Since this expedition's funding is mostly from my family and my company.

“The President wants an outpost built in Arizona. And you ‘n’ I, will have to cooperate with Edward to fulfil her orders.”

I saw his hands clenching as his breath started to grow heavy, “I won’t forget this.”

“You know what else I won’t forget – is your treason. You planned to depose Edward. To do what? To establish your junta, independent from Congress’ and Senate’s accountability?”

"Don't you dare put words into my mouth!" He stood up but Frank was speedy enough to counter him by grabbing him by his shoulders and forcing him to sit back down. I really didn’t like where this was going. I don’t like using force; preferring to use people’s self-interest to establish mutual gain. After threatening him, what then? He’ll still be the captain – the leader of the military – and I'll still need to work with him.

I waited for him to calm down. Kimball was well aware Frank’s revolver was in full display as if displaying my will to end his life at any given moment. It scared me how easy this was. Was I a monster in my past life, capable of ordering people's deaths like they were nothing?

“Twice now that blonde deathclaw-spawn failed to effectively act as a leader. Once in storming Needles and rescuing the slaves there, and now by ordering me to abandon our military supplies! He doesn’t know what it takes to become a leader.

“So, I wanted him removed.”

“And what? Replace yourself as the leader?”

“Of course, then I’ll step down from power.” Highly unlikely but do go on. “Then I was prepared to radio my mutiny and submit myself for a potential court martial. I’ll accept any punishment levied on me. At the end of the day, I want the NCR to succeed. And I'll do so at the cost to my career.” He ranted and slumped his shoulders.

I hated how I detected no signs of dishonesty. Giving Frank a side-eye, he silently shook his head telling me that we reached a common conclusion. It would’ve been much easier if the Buzzcut was sleazier and bloodthirsty. “So, where do we go from now? I admit this is pretty awkward. I was expecting a more... Defensive and violent reaction.”

Kimball suddenly started to laugh whilst swinging his sagged head, “Didn’t realise my sincerity, did you?” He started to wheeze from all the laughter then turned his gaze to me, “Where do we go from now? Let’s see... How about we storm this place and get our brahmin and free some slaves?”

“That’s a good start but why did you take two days to build a camp?”

“Two reasons. I had that tribal of yours draw me a map of the base to locate where the potential weaknesses are. It’s too uphill to storm directly, so I’ve ordered two squadrons to practice entering that base through stealth. They need to get inside through a mine and open the gates from in the inside.

“At first, I was tempted to disobey Sallow’s orders and use a mortar to blow that gate up but the chances of the brahmins getting spooked, and running away was too much of a risk. Oh, and that tribal – Winnie, was adamant in not using it.”

Good job Winnemucca. “And the second reason?”

“A swarm of cazadors have been spotted by my rangers. Likely caused by a dust storm in Zion Canyon, driving them all the way here. I wanted to build a wall and a trench to provide my troopers some cover. I know they fly, but my sources say they tend to attack in a straight pattern.”

“What if they flew directly above and dove straight down?”

He grinned, “Well it won’t come to that. We’re well-provisioned in terms of ammunition. That’s why I decided to use stealth to take that base instead of storming it in a hail of covering fire.

“And thanks to your antivenom, even if they stung us, we’ll not die. Bruised and slightly torn up, but not outright dying.” I’m glad they weren’t as useless. I regret complaining about that now. Perhaps I’ve just jinxed us.

"Any chance, Frank and I can join the assault? I have this," I showcased my wrist and pointed to my pipboy’s radar which seemed to extend underground.

“That would help. Sure. You can join. Though, Winnie, plans to attack in an hour. Get yourself ready.”

We shook hands as Buzzcut nodded and saluted to me. Before I got out of his tent I said, “No hard feelings for threatening you?”

“Just don’t snitch on me to Edward Sallows.”

“For the sake of cohesion, I shall not. But let this be the last time.” We got out and I stretched my arms. “Wow! That went better than I thought. He agreed to actually let me take part in this attack!”

I felt Frank's heavily calloused hands smack me in the head, "You really are an idiot sometimes! He was happy for you to take part so you could die, and take the secrets of his mutiny to the grave.”

I started to caress my swollen head and meekly said, “I did consider that but Buzzcut knows his plans got exposed, meaning it's not just us in the know. Why do you think he didn't bother yelling for help? He knew his forces were compromised and didn't want to risk calling for help that may or may not be your spies.

“Also, I have faith. The same way I had faith that we were going to survive against that green blob. I have faith in his sincerity for a stronger NCR. I could work with his patriotism.”

“Not as naive as I thought. Good.” He huffed not even bothering to apologise for smacking me. What an ass.

I saw Winnemucca from a distance learning how to shoot whilst sporting a bright smile. “Winnemucca! The Captain and I had a chat and wanted to attack now. Ready the two squadrons to prepare," I lied – the sooner this was over, the sooner we could get out and not bother engaging against the mosquito cazadors.

"Understood Leon!" I appreciated his full trust in me. What a capable colleague. Makes me more confident in following his plans and sneaking into this base.

Within five minutes, twenty desert-cladded troopers assembled and started to march where the mine was. We occasionally had to crawl and brace the unpleasant sensation of having sand down our chest, to not get spotted.

Ultimately, we arrived at the entrance of the mine and quickly snuck up and despatched five raiders, guarding it.

I marvelled at the functioning light bulbs illuminating the tunnel. This was another mystery that had to be solved. Settlements far away from civilisation should not have electricity. Where the hell did they get it? Another one to answer in the future.

We moved as one collective unit as Winnemucca, helped by my radar, led us to twists and turns and eventually a ray of light, slightly obscured by haze and sand, could be seen.

“The exit should take us here," the tribal pointed at the map and I noticed it was relatively close to the gate. "My plan is to sneak up to the gate and kill the soulless shits manning the towers and open the gate.”

A simple plan. One where I approve but something had to be done to distract the rest of the camp. The sound of service rifles would alert the entire camp and may unnecessarily increase our casualties. “Good plan. However, I would like five or six troopers to come with me and free a few of your compatriots. Perhaps raid the armoury to equip the freed prisoners.”

Winnemucca flashed me a toothy grin and gave me a thumbs-up. He assigned me six troopers and we went our separate way, agreeing that my group would fire the first shots to signal Winnemucca’s group to open the gates. Also, when did Kimball promote Winnemucca and give him command? Is he trying to poach my employee! I tried to control my paranoia since it'll do me no good when the fighting starts.

Using my pipboy’s radar and the copy of a map, Winnemucca gave us, I lead my group to where the prisoners are kept. Making sure to avoid patrols by hiding behind crates. It was a good thing I learnt from Pappa about hand signals. Noticing the patrol walked off, I raised my left hand and made a fist - signalling my group to advance towards the...

Towards a pigsty – floors caked with human faeces and urine. The stink nearly overpowered my senses but I pushed on already used to the smell of ammonia gas. I ordered a trooper equipped with lockpicks who did his best to unlock the cells.

Most of the people, inside the filthy prison, were men and he hoped they were good at shooting.

I approached a well-built man with intense eyes and asked, “What’s your name and can you shoot?”

The brown-haired man looked at me with shock and surprise. “Aren’t you too young to rescue slaves like us?”

“Emancipation is every New Californian’s duty, no matter what age.” I moved past him to a crowd of freed people and addressed them. “I’m afraid you all aren’t free yet. You have to fight for your own freedom and I’m only giving you the means to do it. Let's get to the armoury, hurry! I hope you all know how to aim and shoot!”

The former slaves ran where I directed. Then I noticed the man who I talked to earlier, “And you, the reason why I singled you out was because you don’t look like a tribal.” What was the term in one of the geography books – ah yes. Caucasian. He looked caucasian; different to Winnemucca's tribe.

The man chuckled, “Well perceived. Yes, I am different. I’m a New Canaanite. My name’s Joshua Graham and yes – I can shoot. I just need my .45 auto pistols and I should be able to gun God’s enemies, here and now”

Noticing his hands were smeared with brown stains, I chose to nod to show respect, “Well met Joshua Graham. My name is Leon Frederik, a New Californian.”

He reciprocated with a nod of his own whilst coughing and wheezing, likely from the exhaustion from running.

I saw half a dozen raiders with crudely made pipe guns in the armoury and I ordered my group to open fire.

The first gunfire prompted more cracks to sound out near the gate. All according to plan.

The freedmen picked all sorts of confiscated and stolen guns and fanned out in a disorganised manner and mete vigilante justice against their jailers.

I activated the Vault-tec Assisted Targeting System in my pipboy causing the world to slow down. I picked four Derrick raiders wearing black coats proudly showing two arrows forming a cross, and put them to permanent sleep.

Cracks of bullets sounded through the air, some whistling by, I chose to climb one of the buildings using Frank as a piggyback and surveyed the surroundings. I smiled when I saw the flag of the two-headed bear entering the camp.

Victory was complete and absolute when we entered through the Chieftain’s tent and ‘persuaded’ him and his Council of Elders to surrender.

Our celebration was cut short when a black cloud appeared from the north and steadily came closer and closer. Buzzing and rumbling along the way.

So, that’s a cazador swarm. Interesting.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Interlude – Lost Hills Bunker

“Sir, one of our aerial drones are showing up as static in the display.”

“Where’s it at?”

“In Northern Arizona, sir.”

The two debated what was causing the static until they came to a conclusion. Areas with high doses of radiation often interfered with the signal. Thankfully, due to the AI uploaded into the drones, it’s able to make decisions if disconnected from Lost Hills’ signal hub.

“Stand by. We’re reconnecting.” A clear but audible voice started to crackle into existence. “It looks like the AI turned on wiretapping, sir.”

“Let it run. Radio transmission this far out from civilisation? Interesting.”

The blurb became more and more clear. “Lieutenant Simmons! Not only have you disobeyed my order of guarding our flanks by securing the vault entrance, now you’ve disabled your jammers and called me!

“This is against our orders of radio silence!”

“Please hear me out, sir! I had a good reason to turn off the jammer!”

“This better be good, Lieutenant.”

“One of my men turned into a radioactive mutant! Capable of unleashing lethal gamma rays! Got turned by the glowing ghoul when he was clutching to a fusion core.”

“Enough. Provide me the full details in person. Kimball out!”