Franklin designed the full nanite transfer system to push a part of humanity toward the next step of evolution. To prove that his creation was worthy of such a dream, he created the Darwin Operating System or D.O.S., intending to show his body could do anything. Part of that was introducing combat protocols into the D.O.S. Franklin did want to use them. With the full conversion process completed, he hoped to retire and live off selling the license to his process, but now he was happy he did.
Splitting off about 20% of his nanites, he created two shells that morphed into thin grey figures. Each turned their arms into blades and their legs into narrow points. They only looked vaguely human-shaped because studies found it would attract more attention that way. Humans had pattern-seeking brains, and things that looked human but weren’t would make better threats. These two shells would distract the enemy while Franklin went and looked for Deputy Beagle.
“What the fuck is that? Kill them!” A man screamed from within the hotel.
Franklin walked in after the shells had cleared the first room. He ordered them to search the building and kill anyone that attacked them. They sent a live feed of their vision so Franklin could easily command them to stand down if they accidentally attacked the deputy. He didn’t know what Beagle looked like, but Franklin could assume they were probably a prisoner right now.
While the shells got to work, Franklin explored the adjacent rooms. In the main lobby, Franklin came in contact with his second exposure to the computing technology of this world. This desktop device was similar in shape to humanity's earliest attempts at home computers. This one had its screen, keyboard, and tower all combined into one rectangle.
Sending his nanites into the device, he was amazed yet again. Prewar technology favored vacuum tubes, but they still had some rudimentary circuitry. Nothing really more advanced than a transistor, but it was still present. The reliance on vacuum tubes should make their technology immune to EMPs. That was good information to have.
Another thing he learned was this computer ran the U.O.S. or Unified Operating Systems, which had the same manufacturer as the computer itself, Robco Industries. Franklin made a note to tag all information he might find about the company. If their factories and offices survived, he could glean more details on prewar technology.
Franklin wasn’t impressed with the operating systems' security, though. All it took to bypass the security lock was to guess its password from a series of words stored on its measly 64 kilobytes of memory storage. Franklin's total storage capacity was measured in zettabytes, so a computer with only 64 kilobytes was pathetic in his eyes.
The next important find was in a breakroom locked by the computer terminal. The personal belongings of this hotel's former staff mattered little, but the medicine cabinet held a few interesting items. Franklin wasn’t sure what to think about a society that kept a syringe of morphine in an unlocked container, but he wasn’t forming good opinions. The other syringe he found was filled with stimulants, healing agents, and other agents that stimulate platelet production. With his medical knowledge, he theorized this Stimpack was some form of advanced emergency healing aid. There was nothing to test it on, but his predictions said it could heal injuries in a matter of minutes—what an incredible concoction. Franklin would make finding the formula to this ‘stimpack’ another one of his higher priorities. Higher than finding coffee beans even.
The shells had taken out a total of seven people on the first floor of the building. They sustained some damage from the convict's explosives and some burns from a flamethrower from their suspected leader. The shells also managed to spot a bound individual in a kitchen. Franklin commanded the shells to explore the second floor so he wouldn’t have to explain what they were to the deputy.
“Hello, anyone here? I am looking for a Deputy Beagle,” Franklin said.
“Yes, I am here. I found myself in a bit of a jam. Suppose you could free me; that would be most appreciated,” Beagle said.
“Yeah, I can do that. How did you end up in this situation anyway?” Franklin asked, then went ahead and started cutting the deputy's bindings.
“These Powder Gangers crept into town in the middle of the night. They killed my sister and brother-in-law, the Sheriff. I waited in the shadow for the right moment to strike, but I got caught and brought here. Now, thank you for the rescue, but I am gonna get myself some fresh air,” Beagle said and went for the exit.
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‘Don’t know how fresh you could call irradiated air, but I doubt many have even breathed air without radiation these days,’ Franklin thought.
DING!!
Franklin felt something slam into the side of his head and create a deafening sound. Loud sounds couldn’t hurt him, and the object had not pierced his skull, but he was still shocked. He had a 360-degree field of vision; he shouldn’t let himself be snuck up on like this. Some settings are going to have to be adjusted.
Using his enhanced time dilation, Franklin looked toward where the shot came from, and he could see two convicts with shotguns down a hallway. The one that had shot him was still dealing with the recoil of his gun while the other was aiming their shotgun at Franklin.
Franklin could extend his arm out in a spike to a distance of ten feet, but the convicts were about twenty feet away. The next best thing to do was duck behind the island sitting in the middle of the kitchen.
The second convict fired his shotgun, and several holes were made in Franklin's cover. Both of the criminals rushed into the room. They obviously did not possess formal combat training, as they did not reload their double-barrel shotguns. They both fired once, so there would only be one shot in their guns.
Another personal failing of these convicts was their bodies. They were obviously malnourished and suffering from moderate dehydration. Franklin could guess they were probably suffering from various tumors or cancers from radiation sickness. It was logical to think they didn’t have access to a doctor or proper medical help. Franklin wouldn’t hold these things against them, but their bodies were unfit for combat. He morphed both arms into points and pierced the convicts’ brains.
Their bodies went limp, and their guns dropped to the floor. A quick X-ray scan showed Franklin's assumptions to be correct. These two would have probably suffered from cancer for a few years until they either died or killed themselves from the pain. He felt terrible for them, but there was little he could do to save them now.
The two shells had finished with the second floor. They had killed another eight convicts. Franklin's sensors showed no other life signs in the building, so he dragged the corpses to the middle of a large dining room. He picked up the flame thrower the leader had used and cremated the bodies.
“May your souls find rest in whatever afterlife you believed in. I know not of the world after death, but even I know everything will end one day. Even I will one day perish. So wherever you may go next, I hope you live better lives,” Franklin prayed to whoever might be listening.
Franklin’s relationship with faith and the concept of the afterlife had always been a changing opinion until he decided he would probably never know the truth, at least until he died.
‘I am gonna make death work for it when they come for my life,’
________________
“I'll be damned. You took them all out, huh? Thanks for that. Oh yeah, guess thanks for saving Beagle too,” Nash said to Franklin.
“Just doing my civic duty. What are you guys going to do now?” Franklin asked.
“Civic duty, huh? If we had more people out here, those gangers wouldn’t have taken the town like they did what we need now if a new Sheriff. No offense to Beagle over there, but he ain't exactly a shining beacon of law enforcement. I hate to be a bother, but if you could help us with this one more thing, I’d greatly appreciate it,” Nash asked.
“I’ll see what I can do. How do you feel about those NCR types?” Franklin asked.
“NCR will come in and enforce a bunch of their laws. Taxes will probably be a little high. The good thing is they will probably bring a bunch of soldiers, so while things might be a little tight, we would be secure. If you could convince them, go ahead,” Nash said.
Franklin didn’t mind playing problem solver a bit. It would let him interact more with the various movers and shakers in this world. Those kinds of connections would go a long way when it became time for Franklin to create his organization.
The soldiers guarding the other side of the bridge jumped a little when I walked through their minefield again. They were also surprised when I crossed without setting any of them off.
“Can you stop that?! The last thing we need is Lieutenant Hayes grilling us for letting a civvy blow themselves up,” one of them said.
“Trust him, soldiers, I will be fine. Where is the Lieutenant? I want to speak with him,” Franklin said.
“He is over there. God damn wastelanders. Suicidal idiots,” the soldier mumbled the last part, but Franklin could still hear them.
The Lieutenant was back in their camp, messing with a broken radio. Franklin approached behind him and spoke. “Just the man I was looking for. All the Powder Gangers are dead, and the deputy was rescued. Some people in town asked me to help find them a new sheriff. What would it take for the NCR to take over the town?”
“You killed them all? Well, I be damned. It didn’t look like you had it in you. My radio is busted, so we can’t contact the Highway Patrol Station right now. If you head south and find the station, speak to Major Knight. He is the officer in charge of all southern regional Mojave administration. He will have the authority to send another squad here to Primm, which we could use to secure the town. After that, we can speak to the townsfolk about setting up a new sheriff,” Hayes said.
“Okay. I will consider it. I was heading south anyway. Where can I find this patrol station?” Franklin asked.
“Just follow the road south and up into the mountains. There is a giant monument of a Desert Ranger and NCR Ranger handshaking. Can’t miss it,” Hayes said.
Franklin was intrigued by the mention of a monument. People don’t usually make those unless you want something to be remembered. It was also a sign that a civilization was planning on lasting for a while. You can’t justify building statues if your government will fall apart in a couple of years. Sure, tyrannical leaders had people build statues and such in their honor, but this didn’t seem to be one of those. Especially when the soldiers Franklin spoke to made it seem like the main population of the NCR was a long distance away from the Mojave.
A complete opinion on the NCR would have to be made later. If they had a military, they could send out and defend territory; they couldn’t be completely incompetent. Nash believed they would be able to protect the town, so it was Franklin’s job to convince this Major Knight the town was worth it.