War of Realities in the DC Wastelands

[Maharg67]

16

A RIVERSHIP ON THE BIG DC-RIVER

 

It was fairly dark but the moon was nearly full and the sky fairly clear. With a surge of power the rivership, old but well cared for, moved away from the transmutated shark creatures in the waters. Huge they were and armour plated with the habit of ramming hulls with the heavily armoured noses. Diresharks they were called and they were only one of the threats that lived in the river either full or part time. Thankfully there was also plenty of less harmful fish and other game to catch and a caught direshark itself gave plenty of good quality resources to use or trade with.

 

In the distance a Brotherhood of Steel monitor, a patrol vessel of armoured ugliness bristling with guns, moved much closer to the far shore. It was a low hulking monster in the waters with enough firepower to wipe out a fair sized group of super-mutants. Of course its crew would know she and the UCCS Lucky Eddie was there, being her rivership as named after her long lost son.

 

Her rivership’s nets had caught a mix of blue-tooters, white-stripers and a couple of dangerous but good emergency issue currency gaining direfishes. Now the nets were packed away and they were making their way home to Rivertane, a fortified river based settlement from which many fisherboats, traderboats and other vessels operated. For security reasons the boat only showed a few dim navigation lights.

 

Buildings and other structures are dim shapes running from the very shoreline and upwards. A small herd of deer move quickly along the southern shore, following a flagstone footpath. Natural selection means that predators are outnumbered by herbivores and even omnivores are not in great numbers. Predators are also territorial and are prone to fighting each other, if they have a fair chance of winning. Clumps of glowshooms, tall thin mushroom like plants, can be seen on the shoreline. Only certain kinds of beasties can consume them and humans can only harvest them with care; ghouls can not only tolerate them, they find them tasty and nutritional.

 

Captain Jane Eye checked the sonar screen for possible unseen underwater obstacles. The river had been expanded, dredged, when Washington DC was virtually reconstructed by President JPJ, and was very deep. So even though there were some big ships sunken in the river, she had few fears of having her rivership’s hull ripped out.

 

There was a sunken submarine in that part of the river, a very big Soviet one that had brought in Russian, Chinese and other Communist forces. The attack had been a hasty planned one, an attempt to kill or capture President James Patriot Jackson himself. In a bizarre twist the Soviets and American rebels had formed an uneasy alliance but even then they had failed to kill the mad super genius of a president before he pressed the flashing red buttons.

 

The Potomac River had once bordered the old Washington DC but after JPJ’s grand reconstruction costing over fifty trillion US Dollars, the Potomac River flowed through Washington DC.

 

In the distance, in the sky above the Grand National Mall, explosions flashed suddenly in the sky. The Sisters of Steel where at it again, or so she figured, as they did another bombing, strafing run on those damned super-mutants. The super-mutants had a couple of 40mm antiaircraft guns and some shoulder-launcher SAMs but nothing that touched the Sisterhood of Steel vertibirds.

 

The throb of powerful motors went through the wooden decking of the rivership. The smell of fish was strong but she found it comforting because it meant a good catch had been made. She took her mind away from the big submarine, away from the battle in the distance and returned her focus fully back to the return trip to Rivertane.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

INTERLUDE

DC PEOPLES AND NEIGHBOURS

 

The Union of Columbia was there before the Orders of Steel Arrived. They were settlements and areas that linked together for mutual protection against the raiders. So called normal raiders were first there, were native to DC. The gangers were focused in Washington DC and the bandits out further from the big metropolis. They had dealt with slavers. The Union slowly and steadily spread across Columbia but in a network fashion that left many uncontrolled, wild and dangerous areas and specific places.

 

Rivet City first joined in a loose alliance with Rivertane as they were linked by the Big DC River. Then they together joined with Harbourside, the DC Harbour settlement based on a great long jetty into the great harbour that President James Patriot Jackson had ordered dug out by massive energy weapons before somebody had come up with a safer and cheaper plan. Thankfully the Mad President actually listened for once. Harbourside was close to the mouth of the shifted Potomac River.

 

Arefu then joined, also being on the river, and the earliest form of the Union of Columbia arose.

 

Sugartown joined, being close to a secondary river. With Sugartown came Sugarland, the farming area around Sugartown dotted with co-ops, clusterfarms and communes.

 

Rapidly after that joined a number of settlements being Megaton, Greyditch, Canterbury Commons, Duckstone, McBurb, NukaTown, Chinatown, Tulip Lane, the Rhyme Estates, Phallistine, Sharpsburg, Junktown and the Five Star Bunkers.

 

Each new settlement brought both benefits and troubles.

 

The Rhyme Estates were soon evicted because of their brutal exploitation of ghoul slaves.

 

Phallistine was destroyed abruptly in a mysterious, brutal and gruesome fashion with relatively few survivors escaping; none could remember what had happened except a few who were quite insane. The burned out ruins of the settlement offered no clues to what had happened.

 

The Five Star Bunkers, all close together and closely linked, became the main base of the new Union Guard military forces.

 

Sharpsburg fell to a rebellion led by a corrupt and brutal Crimelord linked to Paradise Falls, the big criminal settlement of the DC Mainland. Union Guard forces attacked from outside while Loyalists did so from within. It was a short and bloody battle. The Crimelord and a hundred and twenty-two others were executed including some Talon Mercenaries.

 

Then Experimental TekVault DCV-001 opened its vault doors, declaring itself to be named Vaultburg, and soon after joined the Union of Columbia. Vaultburg brought with it over three million people and many valuable resources. The Union of Columbia began to grow swifter.

 

Then the Orders of Steel arrived in an air-convoy of aeroships and aeroflyers. They lay claim to the Pentagon and soon the DC-Citadel was being constructed. The Orders of Steel, mainly the Brotherhood of Steel, began to seek out technologies from Predoomsday times. Then came the schism in which the Outcasts of Steel (Brotherhood Outcasts) parted ways with Elder Owyn Lyons and the main Brotherhood of Steel in DC. The outcasts based themselves in Fort Independence, a semi-underground fortress that survived Doomsday largely intact.

 

The Brotherhood of Steel signed an alliance treaty with the Union of Columbia.

 

Ravers, reavers, ragers and cannibals came to cause trouble in DC. Rovers, nomadic folk who were almost raiders, came also but passed through. Slave-raiders were the raiders who took up capturing slaves as a way of life. Faith-raiders were those who followed a variety of weird cult religions, the best known basing itself loosely on the old Viking religion.

 

The Subwayers were a largely mysterious set of peoples who turned sealed off sections of the Subways into colonies founded on station based and other settlements. They kept largely to themselves as they fought to survive against zhouls, aumans, tunnel-raiders and other threats. The Subwayers did form a non aggression treaty with the Union of Columbia.

 

Then there were settlements that did not join the Union of Columbia.

*Paradise Falls was the DC crime capital and slave trade hub.

*The Republic of Dave was a bizarre quasidemocratic dictatorship

*Mainhold Settlements were of the quasimilitaristic survivalists Mainhold Movement of the Brotherhood of Fortitude. They signed a non aggression treaty.

*GapMorgan, TomTown, Citrus Square and other settlements simply wanted to remain independent but most of them signed treaties.

 

To the north-west was Crosswayne, a religious based society controlled by the Orthodox Church of Atom with its many Offices and Orders. The Pope of Atom ruled along with the Archbishop and Bishops of Atom. The Knights of Atom were the infamous elite military force of Crosswayne.

 

To the north-east were tribal clans.

 

To the east and south-east, on the coast, were the apeman peoples of the Primatriarch, a quasiroyal system with one greater and five lesser monarchs along with a constitutional parliament.

 

Beyond the mainland coast lay the Columbian Islands, or DC Islands that were sometimes mistakenly called the Patriot Islands. The Patriot Islands were actually another set of islands further out into the Atlantic Ocean. In theory the DomniCommonwealth dominated all of the DC Islands but in practice they had continuos troubles on the smaller (still large) outer islands. Well known of the DomniCommonwealth were the DomniInstitute, the DomniEstates, and the DomniGuard. There were more autonomous organizations with bases there such as the Talon Mercenaries, DCTek the rogue surviving TekCorporation, the DC-Syndicates of organised crime based in Armageddon Park on the main island, the weirdly fanatical Opris’D’Atomic Cult, the Slavers Foundation and many others.

 

In other directions lay Wastelands with scattered clusters of settlements, more raiders and many others.

 

The Patriot Islands were a mystery

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited April 4, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

17

AT THE SEARF SAFE-HOUSE BUNKER

 

Eddie’Jo was part of SEARF! Eddie’Jo had very early on commanded his own SEART. SEARF was Special Encounter Assault Recon Force designed to deal with exotic powerful threats to the USA. More importantly SEARF was to deal with threats against President James Patriot Jackson. SEARF dealt with truly exotic threats like Japanese Megacorp cyborg ninjas, Chinese organic construct assassins, zetan aliens, early true raiders, rogue prototype robots and much else of the kind. In the end they had fought the monstrous Patriot Guard. A SEART was a Special Encounter Assault Recon Team. Later he was to become much higher ranked in the command structure of the SEARF.

 

Eddie’Jo was starting to remember events since his birth and running up to when he had vanished on the very day he had killed President JPJ, his biological father.

 

Not his real father, a good man who had been killed by JPJ. Not his mother, a woman he had become estranged from long before Doomsday of 2077.

 

He sat half buried inside a specialised compuchair with 3Dscreens facing him flashing with all sorts of data. The data flowed with amazing speed when his eyes met any screen in particular but he took it all in.

 

SEARF-Comp111 was up and running fully as he could get the AI-supercomputer network-system to. Datafiles were more numerous than he had feared they might be. The Washington DC Compunetwork was down in some ways and places but links had been formed with certain places.

 

The girl was sleeping curled up on the floor, on a blanket, not far from the compuchair and, of course, the killclaw, molerat and dogs were with her. The crow was perched on the back of the killclaw. Toys and children’s books lay scattered around her despite her tired promises that she would put them away before she went to sleep. Her teddy-bear was tucked under one arm. She wore tough looking pyjamas he had made for her using materials and tools found in the basement chamber above the bunker proper.

 

In the compuchair he kept trying to find out what was functioning and what was accessible, one way or another, through out the District of Columbia. He found some very odd anomalies. Others were using sections of the Compunetwork that still functioned but with various degrees of expertise.

 

Then he accessed the Public Security Safety Camera Network, or PSSCN, of 3Dcameras hidden and openly displayed while still functioning. The PSSCN was working only in a patchwork fashion but he was soon picking up 3Dvideo scenes from all over Washington DC and beyond in the greater reconstructed District of Columbia. He was not pleased to see what had become of both Washington DC and the District of Columbia. Through the PSSCN he glimpsed many peoples, settlements and activity on the roads and rivers but much of what he saw seemed rough and ready unlike the hitech sophistication of the DC of Predoomsday.

 

It was like trying to find one’s way through a fragmented maze. He found much had been deliberately cut off, being most likely isolated for use by local groups. The old Pentagon site was a primary example of that.

 

There was life but it was focused on a relatively few points and spread out in others apart from mutated wildlife of plants, plantimals and animals. A geo-stationary satellite, a smaller one commissioned by the DC University, still functioned with life sensors focused on the DC. The sensors were more power and sophisticated than those needed by any normal university but the DC University, unlike the Washington DC University, had been a front for the Patriot Security Intelligence Agency, the PSIA, the dreaded secret police of President James Patriot Jackson.

 

The largest focus of activity was the battle raging in the Grand National Mall.

 

He went to sleep on the floor close to Lilly and the animals. Shortly later he woke as the girl and the animals shifted to all snuggle up against him. He sighed softly and went back to sleep as soon as the molerat stopped moving around to make itself more comfortable.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

 

18

COMPLETING THE FIRST NEW ATOMIC ROADTRAIN

 

Sid Jones loved WSVs (Wastelander Survival Vehicles) in many ways. He loved designing them from what they had to be made from, adapting them, repairing them and even just admiring them. He took 3Dphotos of his favourite ones and showed them off to favoured customers.

 

But when he was offered a chance to help construct the first DC Atomic Roadtrain, he was in seventh heaven. Now he stood watching as the beautiful big monster was worked on by dozens of humans in special power armour or in basic exosuits along with robots and openly baseline androids (obviously androids). The Union of Columbia had commissioned the DCART, known as the UCSRT ROAD LORD, as six massive sections, each on huge wheels, with the front and back being identical. It meant that the machine did not have to try to turn around. The sections were linked by articulation and by special flexiways.

 

The Union of Columbia roadtrain would be the first to be launched but plans were already being made for another one, this time commissioned by the Brotherhood of Steel. It would not just be a haulage and passenger machine, of course, as this one was despite is arms, armour and other specialised network-systems.

 

He had glimpsed the amazing woman behind the upgrading of the settlement of Junktown into a proper small industrial town on the shores of the Patriot River, a secondary but still large DC River that flowed into the Potomac River. The woman was one Mrs Eliza Ezenstein who wore expensive, clean versions of typical Wastelander gear except for special occasions. Then she had gone out of her way to talk with him and had charmed him. She had charmed him nicely, all smiles and warmth, a bit of flirting for she was very attractive, but still he had been a wary; something just did not add up.

 

The big trick was that the new atomic roadtrains were actually being built from Predoomsday atomic roadtrains found in secured hidden storage just about a kilometre from Junktown itself. They had been designed to deal with a post-nuclear devastated DC but the advanced super weapons had meant they were never used.

 

It was dark of night and yet that part of Junktown was well lit up thanks to the need for security, to protect such a large and expensive asset.

 

Now he stood on the top of a construction tower, a roboremote monster of big cranes, triple-jointed robotic tool-arms and other surprising features. He wore his rather bulky looking coveralls dotted with big pouch-pockets. In front of him, on a kind of metal bench, was his own special metal toolkit that he had designed himself. He had everything he needed, even for special occasions.

 

A confused apprentice, a brown skinned female teenager, came out in her own tighter coveralls and she frowned softly at him. “Mrs Ezenstein has shown up with a whole lot of other folk. She says they are going to check out the roadtrain in case they want to buy one in future. She knows the roadtrain is going to be launched tomorrow, that the Union of Columbia had already paid for it, so why is she doing this?”

 

The youthful man grinned. “I was hoping this would not happen but we are ready. It is time to deal with the real Mrs Ezenstein and her cronies.” He grinned and opening the toolkit, he pulled out a powerful recoilless pump-action 10g shotgun. “This will put a stop to them.”

 

The teenager sighed. “Oh you silly thing. They would kill you.” Then she moved so fast that she flickered and then, with amazing strength, she was gently lowering an unconscious Sid Jones to the metallic grid floor of the platform.

 

She then vanished with another flicker of motion, darting straight over the rail.

 

The firing began! Sirens rang.

 

Mrs Eliza Ezenstein was long dead but her doppelganger copy stood grinning next to the fallen bodies of semiconscious security guards in flexikevlar body-armour. She had knocked them down easy enough and could not be bothered killing them. They would only remember the face of a woman that she murdered and assimilated over twenty years ago. The arrogant elitist woman had deserved it when she had tried to cheat the Doppelganger Guild of half of the fee she had to pay for a difficult murder well done. A particular assimilated guise only lasted so long and after this the doppelganger would no longer try to use Eliza’s appearance.

 

Kill only when you had to do so! Every unwanted killing means for complications such as people seeking revenge, more chance of gaining the attention of the Regulators or worse.

 

Her companions were not doppelgangers. They were Patriot Police SWAT cyborgs. It was typical of the Patriot Police that they would be involved in carrying out a crime and not preventing it. It was the stupid Patriot Police, a pointless left over from the realm of President James Patriot Jackson, who wanted the atomic roadtrain with out having to pay for it. They hated the Union of Columbia simply because they hated any regime that was not ruled by President James Patriot Jackson and would enjoy stealing the machine.

 

PPSWAT Troopers marched up beside her in head to toes assault power armour, each holding a recoilless heavy submachinegun firing a powerful calibre for such compact weapons. She had no real liking for such devices, finding them clumsy and over powered in most cases.

 

One of them went to shoot the semiconscious security guards but the doppelganger stopped this with a hand signal. Then she spoke. “Are you stupid? The others are busy diverting the townsfolk away from us and you want to use such a noisy weapon and risk bring some of them here. We have but one SWAT-Team, five crew and myself.”

 

The trooper spoke with a tone of arrogance. “Do not tell us how to run our missions, doppelganger. You will be well paid for what you have done. You can trust us.”

 

At that very moment, the doppelganger knew that they were going to try to cheat her, were going to try to murder her. This mission had been a test case by the Doppelganger Guild to see if it could work with the Patriot Police on profitable missions but that now seemed most unlikely. She whirled and struck with amazing speed and power, knocking the two fools down. In moments they were lying on the ground unconsciously in their underclothes, everything having been stolen.

 

The doppelganger sparkle shimmered and vanished back to her world.

 

Two women figures darted into view, each in tight black stealth power armour, and armed with silent firing railgun type needlers. On top of each was a curious compact box device with a small screen showing an intricate display including a small green arrow.

 

One spoke in a neutralised voice. “We have just missed her. She has gone back to her own realm, causing more disruption to local time-space stability.”

 

The Sisterhood of Metaphysics was part of the Orders of Steel but not only had it existed centuries before Doomsday but it was actually far bigger and more multifaceted than the other Orders of Steel knew.

 

But then the teenage apprentice flickered into view but now she wore a grey-brown stealth power suit except for the missing helmet. She held up her hands to show they were bare and spoke. “I am unarmed and harmless.”

 

The Sister of Metaphysics removed her helmet to reveal the face of a rugged young dusky white woman. “Empty handed, yes, but harmless, never. You are a super-soldier. Even your absolute stillness speaks of your true nature. You could kill both of us in seconds. What do you want?”

 

The teenager smiled. “I am SEARF, Special Encounter Assault Recon Force, who turned against President James Patriot Jackson long ago. Except we now know he did not die but escaped into a domain that turned into his own prison. We have also been tracking the coming and going of a few doppelgangers and other entities between realms and consider this problem is linked to that of the existence of President James Patriot Jackson. SEARF suggests an alliance, the creation of joint taskteams and the sharing of resources including data.”

 

The Sister of Metaphysics shook her head in wonder. “We assumed all SEARF were long ago destroyed though we had heard whispers otherwise. Problem is that DC is full of whispers, most of them fraudulent.”

 

The SEARF Trooper nodded. “We spread many of those rumours ourself and made sure that anybody checking them out would get nowhere. We have survived in strength. If and when we trust you more, we will tell you more. It is important that we work together for President James Patriot Jackson is going to try to escape from his prison but in doing so he will bring death, destruction and worse to this and other worlds. We turned against him for good reason. We do not want to see his return.”

 

Tanya Benz nodded. “Very well, SEARF, I will go to my commanders and talk with them. I will need to speak to a high ranking officer.”

 

The SEARF smiled. “You are Marshal Tanya Benz of the paramilitary wing of the Sisterhood of Metaphysics.”

 

Tanya Benz nodded. “Yes but I do not make the sort of decisions you want to be made. I will not bother asking you how you know who I am. You look young even for a SEARF. You must be only sixteen or so.”

 

The SEARF smiled. “I am eight years old and only a cadet. When I reach ten I will be a fully grown trooper. I must go now. My people have dealt with the other PPSWAT Troopers. They are over confident and arrogant for their level of skill and experience. We have found them easy to deal with. We do not like them. We like you. We look forward to working with you more.”

 

Marshal Benz stepped forward and kissed the eight year old clone on both cheeks and the forehead. The trooper looked surprised and blushed slightly. Then she vanished with a flicker of speed.

 

The other Sister of Metaphysics, not a trooper but an actual psychic-scientist, or psychicist, spoke then. “Shortened growth to adulthood and shortened life span. She will last only to the age of thirty or, or so I sensed strongly. We must have this alliance. Our resources are already stretched to the limit. When she spoke of the SEARF surviving in strength, she meant great strength. Yes, we need them and they need us.”

 

They turned and got out of there before any of the locals arrived at the scene. The atomic roadtrain would not be stolen and the Union of Columbia would take delivery of it in the morning. Soon over a dozen roadtrains would be active in the DC Wastelands.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited April 4, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

19

JACK’O’MAN AMBUSH FOR FREEDOM

 

The big fast man leapt out of the treetop and landed nimbly on the top of an armatruck’s metal roof. Thanks to the tight curving road through the mutated forest, the other trucks did not spot him and both of this armatruck’s turrets were aimed away from him; he had landed between them. This was the lead vehicle of a slaver convoy.

 

But time was not on his side as at any moment the following slaver truck could discover him, looking through turret cam-eyes. If he was still exposed he would be blasted away by some big horrible gun being it a 20mm autocannon or a 12.7mm six barrelled 6sweepergun. The vehicles were moving through these warped and dangerous forest clad hills that were only a few kilometres from Paradise Falls.

 

Paradise Falls, a great square of buildings with a great open courtyard style space in the centre, was once a mighty special deluxe luxury shopping complex with many fine goods and services for sale. Now it was the opposite, a stinking hole controlled by the scum of the DC Syndicates. It was protected by its own army of mercenaries of the Talon Corporation and by the heavily armed scum that used it as a base of operations. Slavers, druggers, smugglers of forbidden or illegal goods, and makers of many of those same goods. The courtyard was a thriving market with a mixture of darker and more normal goods and services being sold. Barbershops stood next to slave auctioneers stood next to diners stood next to sex-slave brothels stood next to gunshops stood next to blood game arenas.

 

The outer rim was not only manned by many heavily armed mercs but was an armoured defensive rim of turrets, robots and other nasty tricks. There was a main entrance on every side but these were heavily guarded and heavy armoured gates could close them off very quickly.

 

He was over an armoured, locked hatch. Now he placed a special device onto a heavy electronic lock, jacking it in, and he touched a green button. Just five seconds later there was a slight clicking noise and the hatch was unlocked. He carefully put the device away, a rare gift from some special people who hated slavery, and then flipped over the hatch with his amazing strength.

 

Dropping down he slashed open the throat of the first slaver guard who came at him. He died at once, blood spraying all over part of Jack’O’Man. Already he was turning with his 9mmP submachinegun, was gunning down a couple of other slavers with a careful burst of gunfire.

 

These slavers were experienced, tough fighters though and they were well used to fighting dirty in close quarters. Four more came at him even as into the truck dropped another figure, an armour clad young woman who blasted down a slaver with a cut-off double-boomer (a shorn off double barrelled shotgun). Then in came another of Jack’O’Man’s ex-slave fighters.

 

When they took control of the first truck they halted the convoy. Their people had already dropped on top of the last armatruck of the convoy, were in the process of taking it.

 

Jack’O’Man lead an army of ex-slaves and others who hated slavery in the forest clad hills around most of Paradise Falls; these were hills created more by super-weapons than by nature. They gave trouble to the Paradise Falls monsters and though they focused on slavery of different kinds, they also dealt with other savage crimes. Amongst them was a group of assisting Regulators who were there unofficially. But while they made matters for difficult for the denizens of Paradise Falls, Jack’O’Man was the first to admit they had done little major harm to the DC-Syndicates.

 

They took the convoy and freed the fifty-eight slaves but it was only a small number of the newly captured and long term slaves that were being sent into Paradise Falls. In the past most slaves had been ghouls or semighouls because of general prejudice allowing such to happen. Big mystery was where did the majority of slaves go from there for they did not stay in Paradise Falls and they did not leave it by known means.

 

Where were all the slaves going? There were answers but they were bizarre and, if true, quite concerning.

 

They were in a fairly big clearing with camo-nets on the captured vehicles along with other machines. They had gained two slaver captives in the fighting and soon he would question them. Apart from mainly humans, there were some ghouls working as equals in the group and in the far distance some robots.

 

Jack’O’Man spoke to the woman who had followed him into the armatruck. “We got the four vehicles now and we have some new recruits along with some new people to live free in one of our hidden settlements. Crag got some valuable info on why the DC-Syndicates are still sending slaves through our territories; it seems the other ways have become harder because of increasing battles between super-mutants and the raiders and by that I mean those damned ragers.”

 

Blonde and mildly attractive to most but damned beautiful to him, she removed her helmet and smiled at him. “So they still have to send convoys through here. The Crimelords must be spitting blood in anger. We still have some effect on that scum.”

 

The big man turned to her and ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. “Something big is going down in Paradise Falls. Why so many slaves and not just ghouls now but captured normies (humans) and even zhouls. What does one do with mindless, raving, twisted zhouls? There are those reports of strange lights in the sky, of flying-saucers, of strange noises coming from underground and odd vibrations in the ground. Then there are stories of those creatures, those big hairy man-beasts.”

 

She just nodded. They would go on seeking more information, more answers to the dark puzzles that had arisen lately.

TO BE CONTINUED

 

20

DC-WATCHER AT SPACESTATION FREEDOM

 

Spacers had dwelt in the massive Spacestation Freedom floating high in geostationary orbit above the DC-Wastelands ever since Doomsday. Survival had been a struggle at times even with some assistance from the Lunarites. Zero gravity genetically engineered zeromans and traditional humans had lived with apemans, cyborgs and androids along with plenty of robots and roboremotes. Six great steadily spinning wheels enhanced with synthetic gravity fields, kept comfortable 3G quasigravity. The great spoke was the domain of the zeromans, the true Spacers, who had extra arms and hands instead of feet, who had other tricks like special lungs and skin.

 

200 years of struggle and yet some advances had been made in Spacer and Lunarite technologies, especially since the formation of the Solsystem Federation and the capturing of a zetan saucerboat. 200 years of observing the DC-Wastelands and wondering if the threat of President James Patriot Jackson was really over. But nobody had gone down there, not since Doomsday except a single panicky group. They had launched an escape-pod just three days after Doomsday and a Skynet sentry-satellite had wiped them out with interceptor smart-missiles.

 

Skynet was still semiactive as a light spread of specialised space-platforms, satellites and drones. Soviets had destroyed the big Skynet Spacebase, thankfully, on Doomsday itself. Thankfully because Skynet had gone rogue, striking out at anything that came in range that was considered a threat, and that was a very big list.

 

They called her the Space Mistress, a term she did not really like, her being over two hundred years old though still being very youthful in appearance, fitness and health. They also called her the DC Watcher, the one who constantly tried to find out just what was going on down there and in areas around it. She used very advanced technologies to spy as much as possible on communications, on populations, on movements of people and so on.

 

Now she floated in front of a smart-window looking down at the Terran surface, at the DC-Wastelands. HUD displays of data appeared on the window in the form of 3Ddatasymbols, numbers and words. Wrapped in tight fitting space power armour, she had her face shown through the helmet visor.

 

The AI-supercomputer voice spoke: “The fighting continues to be intense at the Grand National Mall. Neither side seems to be gaining ground in any permanent fashion. Ground that is gained, is soon lost. Radio and other communications are intensive and heavily secured but we have broken through most of it. The super-mutants are the main aggressors. They invaded the Grand National Mall from an unknown point but I compute it was from underground. They attacked the DC-Wastelanders dwelling in settlements there and both Orders of Steel and Union of Columbia groups investigating the area. They attacked with out provocation and with out any mercy given.”

 

“Though they have gained control of the Central Grand National Mall, about half of it, the outskirts and extreme north and south, is controlled by the rising Alliance. That includes skyscrapers and other structures overlooking the super-mutants from which the Alliance launches longer range attacks. The main forces against the super-mutants are the fighting Orders of Steel, being mainly the Brotherhood of Steel backed up by the smaller, more specialised Sisterhood of Steel. The Artisans of Steel back them up in various non-combat roles they do have their own guards. So do the Sisterhood of Espionage, the Sisterhood of Metaphysics, the Order of Sages, the Seekers of Truth, the Order of Healing and the Order of Exploration. There are other Orders of Steel not represented in the DC.”

 

Much of this was already known to the DC Watcher but it was good to have a reminder sometimes in the form of a summary. She spoke. “Indicators of SEARF activity?”

 

The supercomputer responded. “Increasing ultra high frequency communications, much of it heavily codified. The ciphers are excellent. Yet I have gained some access. The SEARF are apparently highly excited by a new development. The super-soldiers speak of the return of him, of the one who will rescue them from the Three Curses and who will lead them to final freedom. They speak of him as their beloved leader.”

 

She sighed. “I knew that damned conference went far too long. A whole lot of crats, polies and egg-heads producing a whole lot of hot air and getting a whole lot of free PR and some luxuries thrown in. Still, now we know that FK Walterson is a threat to the Unity and the Solsystem Federation and we must deal with him before he causes a dangerous political schism between Lunar North and Lunar South.”

 

FK Walterson was a selfish political animal out to gain power, wealth and fame at any cost, even if it was to the security and unity of the Solsystem Federation.

 

She sighed. “The world knew him as Bloody Eddie, the super-soldier and one of many biological sons of President James Patriot Jackson. One of many but one of the very few that concerned the Mad President. In the end he became Lucky Eddie and turned against the Mad President. He led the SEARF and the JAGAF, along with other forces, against his father and shot him dead with a very special weapon. Over a thousand attempts to assassinate President James Patriot Jackson were made but only he, under incredibly difficult conditions, succeeded. Then the zetans abducted him as their forces fled from Washington DC. Much of the events of those last days are still a big mystery, at least to me they are.”

 

The computer spoke again. “You are not convinced that that was the final end of President James Patriot Jackson.”

 

The DC-Watcher nodded. “As you know there was the massive outburst of energies, a spike of sorts, at the very moment of the Mad President’s death and his instigation of Doomsday when he pressed those red buttons. The DC-Compunetwork was badly damaged by the spike as were many other networks of network-systems. The energy storm caused many robots to go rogue and many of those still are so as they exist scattered through out the DC-Wastelands. Yet the event activated a whole secret network of network-systems concealed inside the DC. I am now convinced that the insane fool created an actual working transdimensional bubble super virtuality domain of many realms. He escaped there around two hundred years ago but he has not returned as one would expect. He went there on the moment of death and perhaps he has become trapped there because of it. He was playing with forces beyond even his amazing intelligence, or so I reckon on available evidence.”

 

A slight shudder went through the massive spacestation. Not only was low-high (the higher third of low orbit) scattered with active, semiactive and inactive devices, space junk and some amazing stuff, there was the Skynet to deal with along with space-raiders, zetans and other threats. Opposing the powerful Solsystem Federation was the smaller but more aggressive Solsystem Confederation. The Solsystem Federation was more advanced than the Solsystem Confederation. Only the Belters, Spacers who had fled to the Solsystem Belt of asteroids and even some planetary sized bodies, were more advanced. The Mars Colonies had vanished into the mysterious unknown as had the three massive exploration Solships the VOYAGER, ENTERPRISE and CHALLENGER.

 

AI-supercomputer: “A rogue orbital spaceplatform was captured by tractor-beams and is now being brought into a spacestation recycling bay.”

 

Spacestation Freedom was highly armoured, armed and otherwise protected with advanced technologies of force fields, deflector screens and the dimensional bubble projector.

 

She went on. “The creation of his escape domain has caused ongoing and, I compute, slowly increasing destabilisation, transdimensionally speaking, that has dark implications not just for this world but for this whole solar-system and beyond. Yet the threat, I suspect, goes beyond that. With the new upgraded scanner-probes now having been active for over a month, I suspect an extremely alien form of energy is seeping into this dimensional plane from another. It is coming through a gap caused by the destabilising effect of the existence of the super virtual reality domain.”

 

It was one thing to have such knowledge of the problem but another to have a solution. They needed more data and they needed more resources to gain that data just at a time when FK Walterson and others were demanding that the DC-Watch Program and many others on Spacestation Freedom be closed down as a waste of resources. Indeed FK Walterson wanted the huge station towed to Luna and scrapped, thus earning him huge profits from his cronies who ran huge salvage yards on the Lunar Surface.

 

So far he had little support but it was slowly but steadily growing as the threat of the Solsystem Confederation and the space-raiders grew worse. Of course it was an open secret that the Solsystem Confederation covertly supported the space-raiders, supplying them with many resources. Spacestation Freedom took many resources to keep running but it carried out many vital functions that were too easily overlooked by fearful citizens.

 

There were interesting times to come.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited April 5, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

TEN

THE MAN FROM SEARF

AT THE SEARF SAFE-HOUSE BUNKER

 

Eddie’Jo was part of SEARF! Eddie’Jo had commanded his own SEART. SEARF was Special Encounter Assault Recon Force designed to deal with exotic powerful threats to the USA. More importantly SEARF was to deal with threats against President James Patriot Jackson. SEARF dealt with truly exotic threats like Japanese Megacorp cyborg ninjas, Chinese organic construct assassins, zetan aliens, early true raiders, rogue prototype robots and much else of the kind. In the end they had fought the monstrous Patriot Guard. A SEART was a Special Encounter Assault Recon Team.

 

Eddie’Jo was starting to remember events since his birth and running up to when he had vanished on the very day he had killed President JPJ, his biological father.

 

Not his real father, a good man who had been killed by JPJ. Not his mother, a woman he had become estranged from long before Doomsday of 2077.

 

He sat half buried inside a specialised compuchair with 3Dscreens facing him flashing with all sorts of data. The data flowed with amazing speed when his eyes met any screen in particular but he took it all in.

 

SEARF-Comp111 was up and running fully as he could get the AI-supercomputer network-system to. Datafiles were more numerous than he had feared they might be. The Washington DC Compunetwork was down in some ways and places but links had been formed with certain places.

 

The girl was sleeping curled up on the floor, on a blanket, not far from the compuchair and, of course, the molerat and dogs were with her. Toys lay scattered around her despite her tired promises that she would put them away before she went to bed. Her teddy-bear was tucked under one arm. She wore tough looking pyjamas he had made for her using materials and tools found in the basement chamber above the bunker proper.

 

In the compuchair he kept trying to find out what was functioning and what was accessible, one way or another, through out the District of Columbia. He found some very odd anomalies. Others were using sections of the Compunetwork that still functioned but with various degrees of expertise.

 

Then he accessed the Public Security Safety Camera Network, or PSSCN, of 3Dcameras hidden and openly displayed while still functioning. The PSSCN was working only in a patchwork fashion but he was soon picking up 3Dvideo scenes from all over Washington DC and beyond in the greater reconstructed District of Columbia. He was not pleased to see what had become of both Washington DC and the District of Columbia.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited March 25, 2010 by Maharg67

[dezdimona]

cool. Don't listen to praise from species and the herculine,they're out to subjugate and make you their slave!

lol

[Maharg67]

wow, they are, cool!

 

good to hear from you, dezdimona and I will welcome praise from anybody.

 

thank you dezdimona, herculine and species4578

 

lol

[dezdimona]

oh,ok then but I saw you first!..lol :biggrin:

[Maharg67]

ELEVEN

LIFE AND DEATH IN The DC-WASTELANDS

JACK’O’MAN AMBUSH FOR FREEDOM

 

The big fast man leapt out of the treetop and landed nimbly on the top of an armatruck’s metal roof. Thanks to the tight curving road through the mutated forest, the other trucks did not spot him and both of this armatruck’s turrets were aimed away from him; he had landed between them. This was the lead vehicle of a slaver convoy.

 

But time was not on his side as at any moment the following slaver truck could discover him, looking through turret cam-eyes. If he was still exposed he would be blasted away by some big horrible gun being it a 20mm autocannon or a 12.7mm six barrelled 6sweepergun. The vehicles were moving through these warped and dangerous forest clad hills that were only a few kilometres from Paradise Falls.

 

Paradise Falls, a great square of buildings with a great open courtyard style space in the centre, was once a mighty special deluxe luxury shopping complex with many fine goods and services for sale. Now it was the opposite, a stinking hole controlled by the scum of the DC Syndicates. It was protected by its own army of mercenaries of the Talon Corporation and by the heavily armed scum that used it as a base of operations. Slavers, druggers, smugglers of forbidden or illegal goods, and makers of many of those same goods. The courtyard was a thriving market with a mixture of darker and more normal goods and services being sold. Barbershops stood next to slave auctioneers stood next to diners stood next to sex-slave brothels stood next to gunshops stood next to blood game arenas.

 

The outer rim was not only manned by many heavily armed mercs but was an armoured defensive rim of turrets, robots and other nasty tricks. There was a main entrance on every side but these were heavily guarded and heavy armoured gates could close them off very quickly.

 

He was over an armoured, locked hatch. Now he placed a special device onto a heavy electronic lock, jacking it in, and he touched a green button. Just five seconds later there was a slight clicking noise and the hatch was unlocked. He carefully put the device away, a rare gift from some special people who hated slavery, and then flipped over the hatch with his amazing strength.

 

Dropping down he slashed open the throat of the first slaver guard who came at him. He died at once, blood spraying all over part of Jack’O’Man. Already he was turning with his 9mmP submachinegun, was gunning down a couple of other slavers with a careful burst of gunfire.

 

These slavers were experienced, tough fighters though and they were well used to fighting dirty in close quarters. Four more came at him even as into the truck dropped another figure, an armour clad young woman who blasted down a slaver with a cut-off double-boomer (a shorn off double barrelled shotgun). Then in came another of Jack’O’Man’s ex-slave fighters.

 

When they took control of the first truck they halted the convoy. Their people had already dropped on top of the last armatruck of the convoy, were in the process of taking it.

 

Jack’O’Man lead an army of ex-slaves and others who hated slavery in the forest clad hills around most of Paradise Falls; these were hills created more by super-weapons than by nature. They gave trouble to the Paradise Falls monsters and though they focused on slavery of different kinds, they also dealt with other savage crimes. Amongst them was a group of assisting Regulators who were there unofficially. But while they made matters for difficult for the denizens of Paradise Falls, Jack’O’Man was the first to admit they had done little major harm to the DC-Syndicates.

 

They took the convoy and freed the fifty-eight slaves but it was only a small number of the newly captured and long term slaves that were being sent into Paradise Falls. In the past most slaves had been ghouls or semighouls because of general prejudice allowing such to happen. Big mystery was where did the majority of slaves go from there for they did not stay in Paradise Falls and they did not leave it by known means.

 

Where were all the slaves going? There were answers but they were bizarre and, if true, quite concerning.

 

They were in a fairly big clearing with camo-nets on the captured vehicles along with other machines. They had gained two slaver captives in the fighting and soon he would question them. Apart from mainly humans, there were some ghouls working as equals in the group and in the far distance some robots.

 

Jack’O’Man spoke to the woman who had followed him into the armatruck. “We got the four vehicles now and we have some new recruits along with some new people to live free in one of our hidden settlements. Crag got some valuable info on why the DC-Syndicates are still sending slaves through our territories; it seems the other ways have become harder because of increasing battles between super-mutants and the raiders and by that I mean those damned berserkers.”

 

Blonde and mildly attractive to most but damned beautiful to him, she removed her helmet and smiled at him. “So they still have to send convoys through here. The Crimelords must be spitting blood in anger. We still have some effect on that scum.”

 

The big man turned to her and ran a hand through his sandy blonde hair. “Something big is going down in Paradise Falls. Why so many slaves and not just ghouls now but captured normies (humans) and even zhouls. What does one do with mindless, raving, twisted zhouls? There are those reports of strange lights in the sky, of flying-saucers, of strange noises coming from underground and odd vibrations in the ground. Then there are stories of those creatures, those big hairy man-beasts.”

 

She just nodded. They would go on seeking more information, more answers to the dark puzzles that had arisen lately.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited March 25, 2010 by Maharg67

[Maharg67]

TWELVE

TWINS IN A VAULT

THE PUZZLE OF MAD CHARLIE

 

The twins made their quiet way along a metallic utility tunnel, cramped and dimly lit with fluropanels in the ceiling. They had hacked the Vaultnet and had altered computer records in such a way as to give them a cover for going AWOL into the restricted parts of LifeVault-`101. Colour coded cables snaked along the walls, clearly a jury-rigged attempt to repair damage done by Charlie’s bombs but it was temporary repairs that should have been replaced long ago.

 

They were in Sector Ten, largely deserted by people and where Mad Charlie had caused most of his damage. In an attempt to deal with the radroach infestation, the sector had been closed off as much as was possible.

 

The closer they got to the bomb damage, getting through three DSS barriers so far (defence security safety), the more damage there was and the more jury-rigged and patchwork were the network-systems. Yet most of the network-systems were still functioning quite well even so close to the damage. Pipes flowed with water or other liquids, fluropanels did light most areas, conduits carried fibre-optic cables and there was squared off ducting.

 

They passed a metallic alcove, dimly lit, half filled with damaged machinery that should have been recycled long ago. This included a workertron robot, three roboremote maintenance units and a small stack of copper piping. The two turned and went back there to alcove after realising they had mistaken it for a typical basic storage alcove when in truth it was not. They were soon carefully shifting around bits of machinery and empty containers that had been placed in such a way as to hide the true nature of the alcove; it was a small utility workstation. They found the door-hatch.

 

Then they found Mad Charlie’s hidden home-base and soon they were amazed not by signs of ‘madness’ but by those of an efficient, neat, highly intelligent mind at work. A set up of three 3Dflatscreens were with various boxes of hardware, keyboards and other controllers. The chamber was large enough to be a bedsitter apartment with a bed in a corner, a row of metal lockers storing a wide range of things, a rifle rack with various types of guns, a workbench, a kitchenette, various kinds of status containers stocked with perishables, wall-boards covered with documents, diagrams, maps, blueprints and much else of the same. A black board was covered with a neat, lightly stylised hand writing.

 

The twins absorbed enough information to know very quickly that Mad Charlie had not only been mad but he had used three well placed bombs to save the people of LifeVault-101 from a terrible VaultTek experiment. The experiment had been to unleash upon the unsuspecting Vault Dwellers a kind of mind controlling creature, itself programmed and designed to follow orders from an unknown source. Mad Charlie had found the chamber where they were growing and had blown them up along with the control chamber running the experiment and a backup chamber for the experiment. His only regret was that he had only basic explosives equipment to use and basic training in such things. His last note was written down before he had gone off to plant his bombs.

 

In a special status preservation capsule they found four examples of the brainabugs, each like a shellfish armoured exotic helmet that would try to cover the head of a victim and take control. All were dead.

 

Aaron scowled in anger at what they had found. “VaultTek would not be directly behind this. No, it would be WestTek would run such a sophisticated R-and-D program.”

 

Aarie shook her head in shocked realisation at the evil that had been intended to take place in their vault. “These documents talk about something called the VaultTek LifeVault Experimentation Program. It was run partly with WestTek, FutureTek, GeneTek and other corporate assistance. As the mother corporation, USTek coordinated but there were links directly to the Patriot Presidium and to President James Patriot Jackson himself. The VTLTEP decided that some LifeVaults would be experiments but some would be control factors, would be left alone, but this data does not detail which LifeVaults were which or where they were situated.”

 

Charlie O’Donald, his true name, had lacked data. He had gathered enough to know he had to stop the experimentation.

 

There was no evidence that Vaultgov of LifeVault-101 had any idea of the experiment that was going to take place but that did not mean it had not done so.

 

Aaron checked over an inventory database of the resources in the chamber and he nodded. “Very nice! Ammo, guns, tools of all sorts, books, holotapes, disks, machine-tools and more, Charlie O’Donald either worked very hard and clever to do this or he had friends helping.”

 

They sensed the secret panel door starting to open even before the slight clicking noise and then the girl stepped through in an odd mix of clothes holding a carrybag of stuff. She ran a hand through her grubby hair and frowned at them. “You leave daddy’s stuff alone. Anyway this is where I sleep.”

 

The twins smiled at her.

 

A short while later Aarie was washing the naked seven year old who sat in a washing cubicle with recycled water spraying over her body. Aaron was busy making a meal and hot drinks. Lucy looked in wonder at the twins who had simply charmed her into friendship in a very short time.

 

Lucy spoke. “Daddy killed the brainabugs but then he disappeared. So mummy, the others and I we ended up living here, hidden away from you Vault Citizens. Daddy is a citizen working out here and one day he accidentally ran into mummy and they liked each other a lot. She was is rogue human like my brother and sister are, like I am. I wonder what is taking them so long?”

 

The panel door flew open and in rushed an older boy and a then an even older girl, both older than the twins. They were panting. Then came a woman with a backpack and holding a double-boomer. The older boy was holding a WarTek laser-pistol, grey and compact. The woman looked quickly around, saw that her younger daughter was more than safe.

 

She frowned hard. “Vault Dwellers, yes, but something tells me you will not be informing us to the Vaultgov.”

 

The two of them nodded almost as one. Aarie spoke then. “Lucy is beautiful and sweet.”

 

Lucy giggled.

 

The older sister snorted. “I need to sit down. We nearly ran into some of your people’s Special Patrols.”

 

Aaron shook his head. “What Special Patrols? Mind you Vaultgov loves to keep its secrets even from most of its citizens. We have our Police, our Security and our Defence units along with the Exterminators dealing with the radroaches. Officially nothing much is active out here.”

 

The boy, who was about fifteen, snorted. “Stupid Vault Dwellers believe everything the Overseers tell you.”

 

Aarie spoke calmly. “If that was true we would not be here checking out their story on Made Charlie. The official story is that he suffered Vault Madness and simply tried to blow some holes in the vault so he could escape. Now we know he was trying to destroy these brainabugs.”

 

The woman sighed. “Thankfully he did not succeed.” She opened her backpack and out poked the top of a brainabug, two tentacles waving in the air with eyes at the end. “Turns out they only want cooperative linkage with hosts because they want their freedom. If they fully bond then they are also trapped and the process of trying to take an unwilling host can too easily kill both organisms. These brainabugs’ ancestors were taken from a distant world by those damned zetan aliens and USTek captured brainabugs from a zetan saucerboat brought down by Skynet smart-missiles; they were called brainworms and were monstrously dangerous. I any still exist is unknown.”

 

The twins nodded a short time later. They sensed truth in what was being said but of course they intended to check to make sure. The brainabug made twittering noises at them and then settled down against the woman’s shoulder, snuggling there. She scratched it gently between its tentacles. She sighed. “Refined-brainabugs just want to be loved. We link and we enhance each other’s abilities. Only some humans can link healthily. Lucy will be one but not Stella or Tom here.”

 

Tom snorted. “Suits me. I don’t want a brain-tentacle planted in the back of my neck even if the brainabug is nice about it and is called Wally.”

 

The woman looked puzzled. “Wally here says you twins are not what you seem to be, that you are more than human, that you would be too strong for any brainabug to control even if it wanted to do so.”

 

Aaron shrugged. “We feel quite normal, thank you. We have to get back to the main vault or we will be missed and we will end up in the Security Offices being given a hard time by their interrogators. You are?”

 

The woman smiled. “Shandy, mother to Lucy, Stella and Tom. Wife to Charlie who has vanished but who, I know somehow, is still alive somewhere. Sometimes we come looking for him but most of the time we live out in the I’Free Caverns in the settlement of I’Free Town. Life is fairly hard there but at least we have no Vaultgov telling us what to do or stealing most of what we produce to feed the Vault Citizens.”

 

Special Patrols turned out to be heavily armed fighters in dull grey standard power armour with no symbols to state what they were except ranks and a ‘LV101SO’ symbol inside the gaping fanged mouth of some kind of beast. Each patrol came with miniguns, autoguns, flamers and big lasers plus back-up weapons. Each Special Patrol numbered at least a dozen men and women.

 

The twins had learned a good deal about Charlie, about brainabugs, about a set of cavern chambers with settlements that they had not known about and about Charlie’s family. In turn they answered questions about Vault Citizenship and life; thus they dispersed ideas of these folks that all Vault Citizens lived a wonderful life not shared by fringers or rogues or so called out-rebels living outside of the main vault.. They left everything behind that they could spare and they departed.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

[Maharg67]

THIRTEEN

LIFE AND DEATH IN THE DC-WASTELANDS

A ROBOTIC BANANA DOES ITS DUTY

 

The big yellow banana leapt to its feet and pelted across the carpark. Then it crouched behind a low smart-concrete wall that was slowly repairing a row of bullet holes that somebody had shot in it. The special type of robot, a robodroid halfway between a true robot and a true android, scanned the area through the tip of its banana hull. The yellow was not too bright any more and this was for the better for the bananadroid was less likely to draw hostile attention that way.

 

Behind it rose the low hulking form of a SuperDuperMart complex part buried under a relatively thin level of rubble and dirt. The banadroid had come from there, ordered to do so by the AI-supercomputer but also ordered to be careful. Bananadroids had been built by RobCo for the SuperDuperMart Network to advertise its products in an entertaining manner by dancing, singing and other tricks. In 2075 the first of these robodroids had been created and had gone out to Disneyland, to the US Ministry of Defence, Department of Defence Information (propaganda), and to other big paying customers who could afford them. In 2076 SuperDuperMart bought 100,000 of them.

 

Now this bananadroid served a new cause, a much finer cause, and it had been upgraded to assist that task. More importantly it had gained the Free Robotics Programming as a semi-independent citizen, Citizenship Class B, under the grand leadership of SuperBrain-AlphaOne.

 

The bananadroid knew vaguely of others existing in the great complex other than other robodroids, robots and androids along with many roboremote units. Perhaps humans, perhaps androids but perhaps also something else? They moved with amazing speed, agility and quietness. These ones liked to watch the bananadroids dance, which pleased the yellow machines.

 

Bananadroid-1232a figured that if it could truly feel fear, that these ones would scare the gearing out of it.

 

A light dust storm was blowing, a dust cloud moving across that part of the city. Things moved inside the dust but could not be identified. Thankfully the dust cloud was not heading in the direction of the crouched bananadroid.

 

Straight across from it in a collapsed advertising tower, something living moved. It moved stealthy and with much experience but Bananadroid-1232a had scanners that picked it up as a young woman human. Not just a human but an altered one, most likely a raider of the berserker, reaver or raver type. Super-smartdrugs had altered this one’s genetic inheritance to make her a monster at birth. Sometimes norms were born from such parents and sometimes norms were forced into addiction but most did not survive the transformation into monsters.

 

The bananadroid sent an alert with tight beam communications to make it hard for the signal to be picked up.

 

More of the raiders were being picked up by the scanners, themselves moving super humanly fast but with an odd jerkiness that spoke of ravers. Ravers were unpredictable. One moment merciful and even kind, they could switch to being monsters in an instant. This made them harder to deal with in various ways.

 

Soon the ravers would come charging out and would race across the carpark in the growing darkness. They would probably dance crazy, at least some of them, in their bizarre costumed body-armour. The bananadroid computed it would drop low behind the wall. It had an autopistol fixed into one armour, a stunner in the other but it doubted it could deal with ravers on the attack.

 

Suddenly there was a scream, quickly cut off. There was a gun shot. Scanners picked up swift movements, fast fighting, ravers clashing with something even more deadly than themselves. A raver leapt out into the open, dancing crazy dangerous with flashing knives but then she died as something struck her with even more amazing speed. Her body was hurled through the air and landed in an ungainly mess. More shots! Another quick cut off scream, a mingled sound of insane rage and fear. Part of the broken down tower exploded outwards as a grenade detonated.

 

Relative quiet fell.

 

The bananadroid realised it was not alone. A figure in tight grey armour, head to foot, stood next to him, a young woman by shapeform but one of them. She was holding an odd but deadly and compact looking black rifle. She was motionless like an android for a short time, taking everything in and ready to move almost instantly. Faded on her shoulders was the shield badge of SEARF and below it, SEART 5-5a. The same was on her chest and upper back plating.

 

Then she spoke with a smooth, almost expressionless voice. “Tonight we would like to watch a dance of the Amazing Bananarama Troupe.”

 

The bananadroid leapt up and gave a bow. “Of course, mighty warrior, I will lead the dance myself.”

 

She turned her head to look at him though her eyes could not be seen through her helmet visor. “Very good! You will also dance for the humans. Go now and help bring back carts. We need to get the dead ravers and their gear into the complex where we can recycle it all.”

 

The bananadroid raced off back to the SuperDuperMart. At least when it returned it would not be alone.

 

The super-soldier vanished with a flicker of motion.

 

TO BE CONTINUED

Edited March 25, 2010 by Maharg67