“The fuck was that?” Meyers asked.
“Don’t worry about it, now, as I was saying. A few gang members will need to be turned over to the NCR to help appease the government. I think Eddie and his loyal followers in his office will be a suitable choice,” Franklin said.
The Doctor had moved through the fence and was now conversing with Meyers and a few others in a private corner of the prison. These people were amongst the first to raise their hands and volunteered to explain what would be happening to the others.
A few shells had locked Eddie and his personal guard in his office. The others were all scattered in groups. Some seemed to be ready to leave, but the doctor's shells were hidden outside, waiting to intercept any who tried.
“Alright everyone, welcome to the first shareholder meeting for the MRCS. The topic of discussion today is the future of the company at large. Let's start by talking about the past. You all have experience with rail construction, demolitions, and quarry work. You also come with some baggage regarding your relationship with the NCR. I have already mentioned, but we will have to make a sacrifice to get them off our backs. As for the rest of you!”
This got their spines straightened. No one had opposed what was gonna happen to Eddie's gang; they were all more concerned themselves.
“I won’t leave the rest of you behind. As long as you all repent seriously and work to the best of your ability, your needs will be addressed. Water, food, entertainment, and more will all be provided here. Take a break, everyone. Tell your friends what's expected of them and what is on offer. As a show of what is to come, I am gonna go fix that irradiated water pump you all have been poisoning yourselves with,” Franklin said and moved to the pump.
The pump was surrounded by a slightly glowing green pool of water. A second pool of irradiated water was on the other side of the prison. Broken cars, mining equipment, concrete, and trash surrounded the walls on all sides.
“Let's show them some miracle work,” Franklin whispered under his breath. He swung his arm, lobbing a ball of nanite on the water pump, and swung his other arm at a pile of concrete.
The ball started to spread around rocks and collect debris. Soon, a katamari ball was moving around the prison yard.
Their water pump was working correctly. It's just that it was pulling water from a contaminated source of groundwater. The solution to this was simply to use some of the excess materials from the big pile of moving trash to create a reverse osmosis system. That would help reduce the radiation to minimal levels.
Fixing the pump and cleaning the prison yard took only ten minutes. They stared in stunned silence at the grand display of technological might.
That's right, mwahahaha. Stare in wonder at the sight of my scientific brilliance.
Franklin could spend hours enjoying the local's astonishment, but he had shit to do. A building-sized lump of nanites rolled through the yard and over the fence. The blob would be the beginning of a railcar that the new MRCS employees would use to fix the railroads and transfer goods across the western coast safer than any brahmin caravan.
Making a company from scratch would take a lot of time and effort. He also needed to track down the checker suit man. There was also the rest of the wasteland to explore. Sadly, people couldn’t be in several places at once…
Okay, well, he definitely could, but that is not what will happen.
“Meyers.”
“Yes, sir,” Meyers said. His voice almost cracked. The former lawman had just witnessed some of the most advanced technological construction that had graced this corner of the world in over two hundred years.
“I am going to leave several shells behind and other equipment that will be used to teach your new coworkers how to use the rail track laying machine. My machines will help with training. I need you to make sure everyone pays attention. I want the rail back to Vegas fixed,” Franklin said.
Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.
This was a lot to throw on his shoulders suddenly, but Franklin believed things would run smoother without him. These men were deathly afraid of him. If he were standing over their shoulders watching them work, they would probably die from the stress. Better to make it seem like he was taking a hands-off approach to calm their nerves. Meyers would deal with any complaints and organization, while Franklin would manage things from behind the scenes.
“You leaving, sir?” Meyers asked.
“Yes. Someone needs to speak with the NCR at the Mojave Outpost. Preferably someone that won’t be shot on sight. I can force them to accept my terms. If they don’t, everything will still be fine. I can handle them. The water pump is fixed and produces the cleanest water anyone could find for maybe a hundred miles. It also has the benefit of being cold. Sell any excess to traders. The money you get from that is yours, so do what you want with it. The shells will deal with the food problems shortly,” Franklin said.
With his orders for Meyers done, he turned to the convicts spread out through the yard.
“Alright everyone, listen up! I am leaving for a bit to take care of the NCR. Meyers is in charge now. He will help direct you all to my shells to receive training on using the new machines. You will rebuild the railroads to New Vegas and beyond. You will be paid, you will be fed, and there is free water for everyone, too! This is the best second chance anyone could get, so you better fucking take it. If I hear about a single-stopped caravan because some idiot thought he might collect a toll for a road he didn’t even build, I am gonna reduce their body into a pile of grey goo.”
Some of the convicts turned a pale white at the thought of becoming one of the shells. Franklin did want them to be calm, relaxed workers, but they still needed to fear what he would do to them if they acted up.
“It will be hard work, but you all will make more money than god.”
______________
Camp Mccarran
Colonel James Hsu, NCR Army
*Knock knock knock*
“Come in,” Hsu said.
Hsu was the commanding officer for Camp Mccarran and the commander for all NCR forces in the Mojave. He was only outranked by General Oliver, who relocated to Hoover Dam due to the Legion's presence on the other side of the Colorado River.
The person knocking at his door was Lieutenant Boyd. She was an NCR MP or military police officer. Her duties involved policing the base, tracking runaways, finding missing troops, checking inventory discrepancies, and interrogating prisoners.
She did good work. Hsu and the NCR were lucky to have her. She had the unfortunate trait of sadism or maybe just too much hate for the Legion. She wasn’t above using enhanced interrogation on captured Legion soldiers. Hsu could hardly blame her. Some of the things the Legion did were downright brutal. They claimed they were bringing civilization and order to the tribes they conquered, but Hsu didn’t consider rape and slavery civilized.
“Colonel,” Boyd said and saluted.
“At ease, Lieutenant. What can I do for you?” Hsu asked.
“Yesterday, a patrol encountered a small group of Legion soldiers moving around Camp Searchlight. Our patrol outnumbered the Legion, so they got scared and slit their throats to avoid capture. All but one. He just arrived this morning and has been identified as Centurion Silus,” Boyd said.
“Excellent news, Lieutenant Boyd. I trust you to handle the interrogation, but I am sensing something else to this,” Hsu asked.
“Yes, sir. I believe this man has information on the message we recieved from the Southern Mojave Outpost. The one about an unknown doctor killing Vulpes Inculta,” Boyd said.
This was interesting. Word of the infamous frumentarii had spread around the NCR like a nasty STD from an Omerta whore. A pool had been started to buy the mysterious doctor a round of drinks if he ever came to Mccarran.
What Hsu wanted to know was who this doctor was. Ranger Jackson at the outpost had reported some confusing information on this doctor. He had appeared from within the Mojave, so he wasn’t an NCR citizen. Then, he spent a night at the outpost and walked to Nipton the next day. Around noon, he returned with a shiny new mailvan and a group of injured Powder Gangers demanding they receive medical treatment. Then he told the story of Nipton and how the Legion had given the NCR a bloody nose.
The Legion sacking Nipton had scared the brass back home, and General Oliver had sent a dozen letters rebuking every commander in the Mojave. That was the worst of it, thankfully. The death of Ceasar’s jackal had softened the blow to the General's pride. Oliver had told Hsu and a few others to watch for this doctor and try to tie him to the NCR. A man with balls of steel like that would be helpful in the Mojave.
Now the question is, where the hell was he?
____________
“Fuck! Please, for the love of whatever god answers prayers in this nuclear wasteland, STOP SHOOTING MY DRONES!”
Franklin was trying to send drones to the large antenna array on Black Mountain, but his drones were being shot down by these giant green mutants that seemed to call the place home.
“All I want is a tissue sample, some blood, and maybe a finger or two. It's for scientific research, I swear,” Franklin said to himself.
The doctor was in his van, driving back to Primm. It was the first town on the way south from Goodsprings, so it would be the best place to start the search for the platinum chip. It was also where Victor hired the Mojave Express to deliver it.
In addition to that, he had half a dozen flying in all directions to scout out interesting locations. All the drones that went to the mountain might have been shot down, but the ones heading west found some exciting ruins. Some giant canyon was showing signs of recent nuclear activity. It was also interesting that many different lifeforms were active there. What kind of mutations would a creature need to survive in such an inhospitable place? The possibilities excited him.
Franklin's new employees were also settling in and exploring the screens he left behind. They weren’t full computers, but they could do a lot. The former convicts would just have to deal with what they had. He hadn’t included a lot of material on building and maintaining continental rail systems in the D.O.S., but his system could adapt. ‘Not like I expected to have to build a trading company in my world tour.’