That Old Lonesome Road

[Flipout6]

Walking through the flap to the medical tent, Jason exchanged brief words with Dr. Richards before he went to work on the patients, slapping on some doctor's gloves that Richards had laying around. There were five of them.

 

“Get comfortable. This will take all day.” Jason grunted to Veronica. “Feel free to watch.”

 

There were five patients that were lying in beds all around the tent. Dr. Richards hadn't got around to treating some of them yesterday, and at least one would be beyond his ability to fully heal. Jason went to the severely injured troopers first. One man simply had a deep machete slash across his chest. Using minimal equipment, he managed to disinfect and stitch the injury. Another had stepped on a land mine, but had been dragged back to base. Unfortunately, his leg had to be amputated, but the injury was treated within a few hours. The rest of the patients were treated with the same amount of speed, confidence, and competence. It took almost twelve hours, as several required complicated surgery. Veronica fell asleep several times, but when she was awake she was surprised at the level of Jason's medical training. He finished with the last patients, at 3 o'clock in the morning. Veronica was about to fall asleep at the time when Jason stood up from curing the last patient. When he turned around to face Veronica, who was sitting in a chair, he looked exhausted and completely ragged. The bags under his eyes were nearly black with fatigue, and his cream colored sweater was covered with blood, both fresh and dried. His personality didn't change much, though.

 

“Next time, just use my bedroll.” He pointed at his rucksack, which had been left by the door. He stumbled a little bit.

 

“Why don't you get some sleep, before you fall on your face?” Veronica asked, sleepily.

 

“I'm watching the patients. All night. Take my bedroll and sleep.” He told her.

 

“Look, I've had some sleep already, while you were helping them. I'll watch them.” Jason shook his head.

 

“No. You don't know the signs. I'm better-trained. Get some sleep.” He pointed at the bedroll, and took off his bloodstained sweater, and set it on the ground. He wandered around in a white T-shirt. “If I sit down, I'll fall asleep. I'll be pacing the tent. Sleep.” He repeated. Even his speech was strained. He'd gone for two days without a wink of sleep before, but he had just been performing surgery for twelve hours straight. Veronica gave in.

 

“Fine. But if I wake up tomorrow and find you dead fifty feet down the cliff, don't say I didn't offer.” She unrolled the bedroll, and feel asleep in it. Jason took the time to think, checking on everyone every now and then. First and foremost, he was glad to have some human company again. It had been years since somebody else had actively traveled with him, other than Guardian. But another disturbing thought crossed his mind. The last person to travel with him like this was dead, their lifeless body probably still lying in the middle of the field, or disintegrated during a clean-up operation. A flash, a pained grunt, and his companion fell lifeless onto the ground, shotgun destroyed. An angry yell from Jason as his .44 blazed, angry barking as Guardian tackled someone, screams as the dog went for their throats. In the end, it was Jason and Guardian, standing alone, surrounded by corpses, including that of his companion. He had closed his friend's eyes, looted the bodies of the defeated, and moved on. That wasn't the only major thing that had happened that day. Jason shook his head, partially to clear those thoughts from his mind, partially to stay awake. Despite his mind being fogged, Jason remembered that he had bought two Atomic Cocktails at the 188. He pulled it out of his pack by the door, and took a swig of it every couple minutes as he paced the tent. He didn't like the prospect of drinking such a big container of alcohol, especially considering that he had patients to watch, but it was either that or pass out. At least the Scotch he had drunk at the 188 had worn off by the time Jason and Veronica had arrived. It worked. A few minutes after he finished the last of it, he was almost completely awake. It would last him until about mid-afternoon tomorrow. The night passed almost without incident. One man developed a fever, but Jason had him getting better in mere minutes.

 

When Doctor Richards walked in the next morning at six, his face turned right around when he examined all the patients.

 

“Did you get to all of them?” He asked, mouth agape.

 

Jason put his finger up to his lips in a shhh motion and gestured to the still-sleeping Veronica. “Yeah.” he pointed to the feverish soldier. “He has a fever. It's almost gone.”

 

“Were you up all night keeping an eye on them?” Richards asked, in a much lower tone of voice.

 

Jason simply nodded. “Relax for a while, Doctor. Only man to worry about right now is the feverish one.”

 

Despite their attempts to be quiet, the slight noise woke Veronica. She sat up groggily and rubbed her eyes, and then looked at Jason. In his white T-shirt, Veronica noted that he was lean, but very muscular, built almost like a Legionary. “You haven't dropped dead of fatigue yet? Wow, your brain must be fried right now.” Jason looked down at her.

 

“Atomic Cocktail. Clears fatigue. Alcoholic, but nonetheless practical.”

 

“Well, you don't seem to be stumbling around and getting into fights, so you can't have had too much.” She smirked, in her usual smart-ass way. Jason didn't mind. Some of his former friends used to be like her.

 

“I'll be fine 'till late afternoon. Once you've packed everything, we'll hit the road again.” He looked back at Doc Richards. “Enjoy your brief break, Doctor. I imagine this is rare.”

 

“You bet I will. These troopers owe you their lives, and I owe you one of the best gifts anyone's ever given me. Thanks.” Jason nodded in acknowledgment.

Edited August 18, 2012 by Flipout6

[Flipout6]

Dum de dum de dum.

 

BUMP! that's realy the entire purpose of this post.

[Maharg67]

Continued to be very good! Bumpity bump, bump bump!

[Flipout6]

An hour later, as Jason, Guardian, and Veronica were about to leave, Jason chimed in, something he did rarely.

 

“Freshwater stream over there. Better use it.”

 

He walked to the shore of the small creek. He whistled to Guardian and gestured to the creek, where the dog drank happily. Jason studied the dog as he drank from a water skin. He was thinking he could use the dog to carry some food and water for itself, giving him some more space in his backpack for other things. He'd get what he needed in the next town they crossed. Hopefully he'd even manage to get his beloved pooch some light body armor, although that was extremely hard to come by. It didn't take them long to refill everything and relieve themselves. As they stood at the entrance to the camp, about to leave, Jason spotted the massive graveyard. At least a hundred markers indicated the location of a buried trooper, someone else who would never make it home to their families.

 

“That's.... A lot of people.” Veronica noted, solemnly.

 

“The price of fighting for what you believe in.” Jason said coldly. Veronica almost fooled herself into thinking that she heard a bit of emotion in that voice, but sincerely doubted it. As they turned away from the graveyard, Veronica asked a question.

 

“What are we doing now?”

 

“Protecting the supply shipments.”

 

“How are we going to pull that off?”

 

“Search and Destroy.” Jason answered.

 

Jason leading, the three of them traveled south, patrolling a tight circle around Nelson and wiping out any Legionaries they could find. Anyone they sent out from Nelson, Jason estimated, would be sent out to attack the supply shipments, unless they went south, in which case they would be returning to Cottonwood Cove. An hour into their walk, they intercepted a group of three legionaries. Jason pulled his .44 out of its holster.

 

“Shoot until they get close, then punch. Stay close, unless there's a grenade.” He said to Veronica. He watched them as he talked to Guardian. “Guardian, stay close to me, kill them when they get close, or when I tell you to, okay?” Guardian barked.

 

From behind the hill they were hiding behind, Jason stood and raised the revolver. A deep, loud, echoing bang accompanied a flash of the barrel and a good bit of recoil. The leading man developed a hole in his torso that Jason could see through even a hundred meters away. The Legionary stopped in his tracks and fell backwards, dead before he hit the ground. Veronica noted that most .44's in the Mojave sounded quite different from that. Jason's pistol was either upgraded, or a different model. The remaining pair of Legionaries split up and drew their weapons. The higher-ranking one in the back sported a Cowboy Repeater. The grunt had to make do with some throwing spears. Jason aimed at the officer, as that gun of his was more accurate and fast than the recruit with the throwing spears. Jason pulled the trigger three times, and each time that very loud, echoing bang probably made people as far away as the Strip look around anxiously. Two .44 rounds hit the sand around the Legionary, but one hit his shin, nearly blowing his leg off. As the man grasped his leg and fell to the ground behind the closest thing to cover he could find (a small lump of sand.) Veronica took off her power fist and put it somewhere easily accessible (tucked into a flexible bag on her right hip, in front of her pistol holster.) and drew the 10mm sidearm on her hip. She wasn't actually that bad of a shot, but she was unfamiliar with the use of regular guns. Energy weapons were more her speed, but they would attract suspicion. She used her training, crouched, and aimed, staying as still as she could. A throwing spear fell well short of anybody in the party, prompting Veronica to shoot as the grunt went for another one. A few bullets hit, and they were strong enough to penetrate his armor. Veronica and Jason killed their targets almost simultaneously, with Jason blowing off the officer's head when he tried to shoot back a split second before Veronica landed her third consecutive shot to the chest of the grunt. The round must have hit his heart, because he was killed instantly. Jason shot the last bullet in his revolver at the dead grunt just to make sure, before reloading (catching the gun casings, to reuse later.) the grunt's ribs were practically disintegrated. Veronica looked over at him from her crouched position.

“Wow. I guess you get a lot of practice using that.” She remarked.

 

“Are you hurt?” Jason asked.

 

“No. Not that the peon over there could throw a spear this far anyway.” Was that compassion coming from him, or was he checking on her for practicality? After seeing his skills with healing, Veronica leaned a little bit on the former.

 

“Good. Let's keep moving. After two hours more, I think we should go to Novac. We've done all we can for Forlorn Hope.” A full sentence, talking to someone other than the dog? Veronica was thunderstruck.

Edited August 28, 2012 by Flipout6

[Flipout6]

School year has started, I won't be able to write as much, I'm afraid.I'll likely put a new chapter up soon. Maybe within the next five minutes, since it's been a few weeks.

[Flipout6]

Two hours passed without incident. Unbeknownst to Jason, a large and desperately needed supply shipment made it through to Forlorn Hope from Camp McCarran. The road to Novac was empty of raiders, and Jason looked at a passing caravan's wares before they arrived in Novac at the start of the evening. They walked into what looked to be the front office. A black man with a deep voice greeted him cheerily.

 

“Hey there! I'm Cliff Briscoe. Welcome to Novac. The Dino Bite Gift Shop used to be in the dinosaur until my predecessor, Jeannie May, passed. Now I run the hotel rooms as well as sell stuff in here. What can I get you?”

 

“Two rooms.” Jason answered.

 

“I'm afraid we only got one left. Most are houses for residents and the rest have been rented out. Technically, we don't have any, but the last person to rent one before Jeannie May passed left long ago. I can get you that one. I guarantee that Courier Six fella isn't gonna need it anytime soon, he ain't one to stay in a single place too long.”

 

“We'll take it.” Jason handed him a sack of caps.

 

“Well, alright then! Go up the stairs outside here, and it's the first room there, farthest on the left on the top row. This is just for the one night, though, in case the man, Morgan, I think his name was, comes back.”

 

“What's this about your predecessor being dead?” Jason asked.

 

“Oh, that. The lady that ran the hotel before me was named Jeannie May Crawford. She was such a nice lady, always directing people to my shop. Then, this one day, a young woman shows up, and then the next morning, Jeannie May is dead, our nighttime sniper, Boone, is gone, and so is the woman. I thought it was simple murder, but then I found a bill of some sort in her safe, talkin' about how she sold Boone's wife and unborn child into slavery. I couldn't believe it! I knew she didn't like Boone's wife, but I never would have thought her to be the kind of person to do that!”

 

“She deserved it, then.” Jason threw the statement in Cliff's face almost like it would hurt him.

 

“I guess they left the bill of sale there on purpose, to prove that. Her safe was unlocked when I took over this shop. She wouldn't keep something like that within easy reach of anyone.” Jason nodded on the way out the door. Veronica chimed in in her usual fashion.

 

“Wow, she must have really hated the guy's wife, then.” They opened the door to the motel room. A king-sized bed and a couch sat immediately to the left of the door, and there was a safe set into the bottom of the T.V stand, as well as a footlocker by the foot of the bed. A dressing cabinet hid itself in the rear corner by the bathroom, and for whatever reason, the windows were boarded up.

 

“Cheery Place.” Veronica noted. It was getting dark out now.

 

“You get the bed. I'll take the couch.” Jason stated.

 

“Oh, phew. Here I thought you'd try and sleep with me. I go for the other gender.” Jason looked at her with slightly raised eyebrows. Veronica guessed that she surprised him. Then he wiped the look off his face and sat on the sofa. He took off his rucksack and gun belt and laid it by the side of the couch, and rested his head and feet on the separate arms of the ruined couch. Veronica noted that he kept his pistol right beside him. “You sleep with a loaded pistol? Talk about paranoid.” She remarked.

 

“Wasteland experience.” He said. He pushed his sunglasses closer to his eyes, pulled his hat over his eyes, and relaxed.

 

“You're sleeping just like that? Not even with a pillow? Or even pajamas?” Veronica gaped. Although, she supposed, most wastelanders probably weren't used to pillows.

 

“No.” He said. Veronica went into the bathroom, changed into pajamas she carried around with her (she didn't know why.) and hopped into the bed. She decided now was a good time to talk with Jason, maybe learn a little more about him. She knew next to nothing, yet somehow she was beginning to warm up to him a little. Under that cold, uncaring exterior may lie a good person. Just like that song they always played on the radio, what was it? “Johnny Guitar?”

 

“Why are you so far from home?” She asked him. He sighed.

 

“Like I said. I go where I'm needed, until I'm needed no longer. Home doesn't need me any more.” He said.

 

“That's cold. What about your family? Loved ones?” He rolled his eyes.

 

“I don't... need to worry about them any more.” he answered. His voice cracked a little. Veronica silently cheered inside. Success! She had managed to invoke emotions within him. Then he added something extra. "Only family I know of is dead."

 

“Harsh. So you're an orphan then? My parents each died defending some important location in the same battle.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“So what happened with yours? Your parents, I mean.”

 

“They died. What more is there to tell?”

 

“Okay, use your cold exterior as a shield to deflect questions, as usual. Ever been in love?”

 

“You're the one barraging me with questions. You first.”

 

“Well, okay. We were young, but I like to think of it as love. The Brotherhood doesn't take in new members, so some of the others think that obliges us all to procreate. You can guess which group she came from. Her parents didn't approve, and eventually our elder, Father Elijah, got involved, used his status to split us up.”

 

“False.” Jason sniped.

 

“What? What's false?”

 

“The Brotherhood does let in new members, albeit rarely.”

 

“I'm not going to ask you how you know that. What about you?”

 

“A while ago. I was young, too. Still a teenager. We grew up together, until I had to leave home. Visited briefly afterward, but never been there since.”

 

“What made you leave home?” Veronica asked.

 

“Memories.” He said. “I'm going to sleep now. That Atomic Cocktail wore off hours ago.”

Edited September 11, 2012 by Flipout6

[MikeRyan]

I swear if you get stains on that couch im going to punch you! Haha, just kidding buddy, great writing as usual! :thumbsup:

[Flipout6]

Thanks, Mike :biggrin: This was a fun chapter to write. *cough cough* references *cough cough.*

 

One thng I think that the story needs is a bit more structure/plot, I'm working on that now.

Edited September 11, 2012 by Flipout6

[Flipout6]

“What are we doing today?” Veronica asked the next morning.

 

“Don't know. I think we'll visit Nipton. Might be threatened by Legion, Cottonwood Cove being as close as it is.” he was pressing buttons on his pip-boy. He was surprised Veronica hadn't asked where he got it yet.

 

“I doubt it. The NCR has a camp called Searchlight between Cottonwood Cove and Nipton.”

 

“Then we'll aid Searchlight, and then check up with Nipton.”

 

“Sounds like a plan.”

 

“Let's go.”

 

 

After they had their gear packed, they followed the road south and turned eastward, and walked along that route. The Vipers and Jackals they encountered along the way proved no match for them. Searchlight stood on the distance, with a single NCR tent mounted a half a kilometer out. A group of troopers sat huddled around a fire. A menacing green hue covered the town and blocked out the sun.

 

“Traveler, whatever is it that brought you here is gone now. Best you head back towards Novac.” A higher-ranking man spoke to Jason.

 

“What's wrong?”

 

“Legion squad set up a pair of radiation traps, damn near wiped out the entire camp. Anyone else was turned into a ghoul, except the men you see here.”

 

“You need help.” Jason noted.

 

“I don't know how it is you know that, stranger, but I do. All of the ferals down there are aggressive and dangerous, but also still undergoing some painful transformations. Besides, they live in an irradiated area, now. They leave there, it'd be like a day without sunshine. They're suffering, but it's too dangerous for my squad and I to put them out of their misery.”

 

“Not for me.” Jason said.

 

“Thanks, stranger. Bring me their dog tags as proof, and there will be an old rifle in it for you.” the sergeant replied. Jason turned to his companions.

 

“Veronica, stay here.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“It's irradiated. I got enough rad chems for me and Guardian, but that's it. It's dangerous for you down there. You'll get sick, you might die.”

 

“I'm not stupid. I carry radiation supplies too.” Veronica replied coolly, although inside she was slightly frustrated, but a slight warming sensation filled her, too. Jason didn't view her as a pawn, he viewed her as a human being. He was trying to keep her out of harm's way.

 

“Come if you insist. But I think it's best if you don't.” Jason snapped irritably. Veronica sighed.

 

“Well, I guess the moment of you acting compassionate wasn't destined for a long life anyway. I'm still coming.”

 

Jason nodded, swallowed some rad-away and fed some to Guardian, (who looked less than pleased.) And walked cautiously but swiftly into the town. He didn't want to be in here any longer than he had to. Once he reached an intersection, after dropping the odd feral, he stopped.

 

“Howl, boy!” Jason encouraged Guardian, who obeyed.

 

His howl could be heard even back at the camp. It was long and chilled listeners to the bone. Ghouls throughout the town heard it and sought out the source, especially when Jason added his voice in. The plan was to attract all the attention they could, kill every ghoul in sight, and get out. Not much to it. At first they came as stragglers, and then eventually a swarm. Guardian took out most of the stragglers, (He was a scrapper.) but when the swarmed, Jason needed to use both of his guns simultaneously to even keep them at bay, and even then, he had to resort to melee combat a lot more than he would have liked. Veronica was evidently having a bit of trouble, too, she was going as fast as she could and using every defensive move she knew. With his revolver and one hand and his sawed-off in the other, Jason killed as many as he could from a distance, and resorted to using his shotgun when they got close enough, and a combat knife when they were upon him. Guardian was a big help, intercepting those that would otherwise have managed to claw at Jason, but he wasn't successful all the time. Several ghouls tore at Jason with their claws, and he severed several minor to medium injuries. His duster flapped wildly around his legs as he ran and whirled this way and that, and eventually all the ghouls were dead. He took their dog tags off of their bodies, (and the combat knives a few were carrying.) and checked Guardian for injuries. Nothing serious, just the odd scratch and a bruise. He rubbed the dog's head fondly. He also patched up what injuries he could on Veronica and himself. He handed the dog tags off to to the NCR sergeant, refused the rifle, and gestured for Veronica to follow him.

 

“You've clearly fought before. You can really handle yourself.” She noted.

 

“Who hasn't?” He asked.

 

Veronica rolled her eyes. “I mean, you are clearly a far more skilled and experienced fighter than almost anyone I've ever seen. What exactly do you do for a living?”

 

“Survive. For money? Scavenge.”

 

“Yeah, right. You're, what, twenty? Twenty-one?”

 

“Twenty-three and a half.” He replied.

 

“Twenty three and a half, and you can perform feats that some of our most skilled paladins couldn't pull off. Any other person would be overwhelmed by that many ghouls.”

 

“I know a fair few that at least equal me in combat.”

 

“Then you run with some very odd people. Combine that with your uncanny medical and survival knowledge, and the fact that you're armed to the teeth, and you've got me keeping an eye on you.”

 

“Where I come from makes the Mojave look like paradise. It's a hellish wasteland, and unlike the Mojave, its actually evident that my home was hit by thermo-nuclear warheads. You learn to survive out there far faster than you do here. You have to be able to survive and fight out there even to live until the next day, let alone live out there for years. I learned to fight and survive from years of experience, and you seem to think that I'm, what, an assassin? A raider? A murderer? I'm insulted, Veronica. I'm no Follower, by any means, but I am no raider. I help those who deserve it. The decent people in the NCR do. So does the Brotherhood. So do some of the people in the Legion, namely the slaves.”

 

“Yeah, I hear their soldiers mount each other as much as they mount their women, so I guess they took something from the old empire after all.”

 

“You're missing the point.”

 

“I've yet to see if you're a saint, Jason, but the only evidence supporting it is your medical knowledge. Actions speak louder than words.” Veronica retorted.

[Flipout6]

Nipton was in a bad state when they arrived early in the evening. There were small smoke trails trailing from the town, and Jason quickened his pace a little. Nobody was alive when they arrived. It wasn't long before they were broadsided by a sickening smell that made even Jason retch.

 

“Uh-” Veronica heaved. “-unless the streets are the sewers, everyone here is dead.”

 

That was then they walked around the building onto the main street. Rotting, half-eaten corpses in tattered clothing were still tied to crosses. Severed heads on pikes surrounded piles of burning bodies, and most of the city hall had been burnt to the ground. Several dogs milled the street, unhealthy-looking mutts with yellowish fur and red eyes. Most avoided the three travelers, but one did try and attack Guardian, who promptly disposed of it. Jason, meanwhile, was fuming.

 

“Who and where are the bastards that did this?” His .44 was in his hand, in case of trouble.

 

“Across the Colorado. This is the Legion's handiwork. They're definitely popular among the people.” Veronica answered. Her dinner was threatening to come back up.

 

“Damn. I can tell already that the savages responsible are long gone. They wouldn't let the biggest building burn down unchecked. Must've caught the inhabitants by surprise, I don't see any Legion dead.”

 

“No use staying here, and it's getting dark. We should set up camp.”

 

“Not here, we aren't. Legion could get back any second, and this area is filled with raiders and ravenous dogs.”

 

“The Mojave Outpost is nearby.” Jason noted. “But then again, maybe keeping you around the NCR won't do much good. Looks like we're roughing it tonight.”

 

“Well, The Brotherhood of Steel is nearby.” Veronica said, her voice low.

 

“Sounds good. And don't worry, they shouldn't have much of a problem with me.”

 

“That much remains to be seen.” Veronica retorted.

 

Jason, Veronica, and Guardian trekked north, passing a train yard as they went. Veronica took the lead, and led him to a fenced-in group of what appeared to be bunkers, or possibly bomb shelters. They were being whipped by a small, localized sandstorm. Jason put on his sunglasses to protect his eyes, and activated the light on his pip-boy so he wouldn't lose her as easily.

 

“Gah. I need to get some proper protection against these.” He said.

 

“Give me your hand. My robes are perfect camouflage for this, you'll lose sight of me easily.” Veronica said.

 

Jason hesitated, but followed her orders. He gripped her hand somewhat tightly. He was glad she wasn't a poet, he didn't want this turned into a romantic metaphor. Veronica smirked and thought of how she was going to mock him for this later. She led him to a specific bunker with a tree-stump on it, and opened the door. She let go of his hand and ran up to an intercom.

 

“I'd like a shake and a double brahmin burger, but go easy on the onions.” She remarked as Jason took off his sunglasses.

 

“Yes, Veronica. I'm opening the door.” A male voice spoke.

 

“I have someone with me. If he's been telling me the truth, he's a friend.”

 

“And who might he be?” The voice grew cold and suspicious. Jason walked up to the intercom and spoke for himself.

 

“Knight.” He emphasized. “Rivers.” Veronica jumped about ten feet and gaped at him. “I have a dogtag and a somewhat unusual history with the Brotherhood. Where I'm from Knights don't manufacture weapons, we fulfill strictly military roles.”

 

“Yeah, right, we'll see about that. I'll be back in a few minutes. If you're lying, you're dead.” There were footsteps as he walked away. He came back about five minutes later, with a noticeable change in his tone of voice. “Well, you were telling the truth. You have one helluva history, Jason. Come on in.” The door opened. Jason strode in, slightly amused with Veronica's reaction. Right now she was staring at the back of his head. Jason grinned mischievously, and chuckled quietly. It was fun yanking the wool from someone's eyes, and watching their reaction. Veronica's was priceless, especially when he laughed. She pondered what kind of drug someone had slipped into his last drink.

 

By the time Jason and crew had entered the actual bunker itself, Veronica kept opening and closing her mouth, like she wanted to say something but didn't know what. Not only did Jason smile, he also laughed. Not only that, he was a knight with the Brotherhood of Steel. She couldn't believe it. She figured him for an experienced survivalist, a hardened wastelander, but definitely not having anything to do with the Brotherhood. She figured if he was brotherhood, he'd have some hint about it, other than hidden dog tags to keep in the event of his death. Even Veronica had a power fist. He had durable, simple weapons, and perhaps the most technologically advanced item on him was the explosives he carried. The man who spoke to them over the intercom stepped in front of him.

 

“I'm guessing you're Rivers. As heroic a history as you may have, you're still a stranger. Behave yourself down here, and we'll get along just fine.” He warned. Jason nodded. “Quiet type, eh? That'll serve you well, some day.”

 

“This branch is better equipped than mine.” Jason said. “Most of our power armor is T-45d, and ballistic weapons, not energy weapons, are what we use the most.”

 

“And we're locked in here by the NCR, looks like we're even.”

 

“You aren't the only ones fighting a war, we're fighting two.” Jason retorted, before walking off. Ramos sat down in his office. That boy-for he was little older than one- made him nervous. He didn't know that Jason had been through more than everyone in the bunker combined.

 

“Go see the Elder, he's curious about you.” Ramos yelled after him.

Edited September 23, 2012 by Flipout6