Let's Play: Fallout 3

[Krylo]

Originally Posted by Aerozord

Nice transition, how did you get the dizzying effect though?

Just tossed a couple of filters/effects on it. Most noticeable is the zoom blur.

Originally Posted by Ryong

I'm just gonna ask for one thing
can you put posts wrapped in swap tags?
it makes browsing a ton of updates a lot easier.

THY WILL BE DONE.

[tacticslion]

On Lucy's Morality@Tactics: I think I'm probably going to keep her kinda neutralish, like she has been. No being a monster, but no being a paragon of good, either.

Fine with me! Carry on, good sir!

[Ryong]

Originally Posted by Krylo

THY WILL BE DONE.

Now I feel like a dick because I read the ant update then snippets of eachother because whenever I reloaded the thread there was a new update and I'd get lost on them and now I read that you talked about swap tags.

[Aerozord]

I would like to request them in groups though. Its nice to have it broken up but I also dont want hitting the swap command every three sentences

[Krylo]

The Red Empress

Fallout 3 Elseworlds: The Red Empress

The near infinite expanse of space. Even this one galaxy. . . too large to be comprehended by a human, or any other sapient, mind. Some will claim otherwise, but to know that you are not even a single vector in a full galaxy map? That even a mote of dust traveling through the projected image is infinitely larger than you? No, such distances were never meant to be understood.

More incomprehensible, then, to think that of all the stars in the galaxy, not one remains free. All now call me Empress. Only the dark spaces stretching without end between galaxies have been able to stop my conquest, and now. . . I am old and there is little more to do, other than to turn over my empire to Sally.

She will rule well.

BZZZZZ!

"Yes. Enter," I reply, in the imperious tone I am used to taking with my subjects, as the entrance alarm rings through my personal chambers. Toshiro and Elliot are still slumbering in the adjunct room, and with a wave of my hand I cause the door to swish close and lock. Men tire so easily.

No need to wake them, I think, as the entryway swishes open and a small green creature with large black eyes and a form fitting purple outfit enters. He natters on in the strange collection of clicks that are considered a language by his 'people,' but it is easily translated by the device I wear on my ear.

"My Lady Lucy, I have come for your Biography for the annals of our gr--"

I cut him off waving a hand, as I turn from the galaxy map, the boots of my powered armor dragging across the steel floor. "Yes. Ask your questions. No need for formality," I reply.

The creature glances about nervously, and then complies. I barely listen as he asks about the start, and instead close my eyes, and begin to recount my tale. . .

"It was. . . Two Hundred and Sixty years ago, now. I was nineteen, and had lived my life in a vast underground, Vault. . ." I begin. I take some time explaining the construct, and how it protected us from the nuclear war that had destroyed our home.

He responds in more clicks and buzzes, "You destroyed your own home planet, My lady?"

I shake my head. "No. Not I. My people. War and destruction is not particular to me. It is the birthright of humanity. We rained nuclear fire from the sky in the hopes of destroying our enemies, but in the end none of it mattered. Few remain who even remember what the war was about. . . but history's lessons were snubbed. The day the world ended, nothing was learned. We continued on as we had, and war never changed."

I chortle at myself now. I'm getting wordy and philosophical in my old age. The small green man--I've never bothered to learn any of their names--looks at me in confusion. "Nevermind," I tell him. "It turns out that my species' appetite for bloodshed was exactly what we needed, on that cold september day."



"I didn't know what to make of what I saw. Aliens, your people, were hardly even a children's story anymore. We had better things to worry about in the wasteland. Or at least we believed we did."



"Of course, my own view of these things altered when I felt my feet leave the ground. . ."



"And I woke up on an operating table, three of your 'people' standing above me, their instruments prepared to dig into my flesh."

The small creature replies, with clicks and squeaks. Some day I must enforce their bastard race learning English. "Implanting a homing tag, My Lady?"

I nod. "Indeed. I never bothered to have it removed. Let my enemies know where I am, let them see me coming. Let them know that they are powerless to stop it," my reply comes with a cold stare down at the creature, and for a moment I'm back at the slaughter of Andromeda. His people burn and bleed, and I feel only contentment.

He shudders visibly, and seems to shrink back in fear--funny how similar their body language is to ours--before asking that I continue my story, eager to change the subject.

I acquiesce. "I quickly lost consciousness. Most likely dosed with a sedative."





"When next I woke, I met Somah for the first time. . ."

"Somah, My Lady?" the creature asks, though he balks when I place my gaze upon him, immediately regretting drawing my attention. Even after all this time, it still makes me smile.

"You would not know her. She came from my time, and had a home to return to--and feared for her life in the personal war I was starting. A polar opposite to General Paulson. She was kind on the outside, but a sadistic and cold hearted woman within," I explain. The alien looks terrified at my mention of Paulson.

Of course, to them he would be even more terrifying than I am. They didn't murder my family, after all. I could explain, but let them fear humanity, instead. Let them believe that Paulson is what we consider kind.

Regardless I clear my throat, and get back to my tale.



"We conversed shortly. It was Somah who decided to begin a fight to lure in the guards."



"The captain sent two guards with shock batons."



"That was the beginning of the end for your people. You were weak. Fragile. I was not a strong woman--" The small creature looks shocked by this. "At least, not physically. Amongst members of my own race I was considered slight and weak. . ."



"And still my fists caved in the skulls of our assailants with ease. . . and then I was armed."



"I do not recall how many guards were sent to recapture us, I merely remember, with a fondness," I continue, a small smile upon my lips, "the broken bodies littering the halls."



"But I remember Sally."

He raises a hand unsteadily, "Princess Sally, the angel of mercy?"

I raise an eyebrow at the last epithet. Sally always was soft on these creatures, too young to understand their evil when they took away her family. Her feelings were so strong that. . .

"Yes." My reply is cold and thunderous. A warning not to bring up my daughter again.

He mumbles out a terrified apology, and I feel my hand loosening on the atomizer at my waist.

"It was she who told me how to destroy your generators. . . how did she put it? 'If you turn off the coolant, it will get really hot and explode, so be careful, okay?'" I smile. "At the time Sally was just another trapped person. A useful child who knew the ship better than I did. She is not my biological daughter. . . but she had no family, and in time. . . well, I'm not sure when, exactly, I began to see her as my child."




"Regardless, your generators explode in the most pleasing way, and the field keeping my daughter locked away faded out."



"We talked for a short time. As much as I could spare, given the circumstances. She told me she'd been all over the mothership. And that she had been here since before the war. At the time, I didn't understand how, but now I know it was a combination of life extension testing and cryogenic freezing, though even today I'm not sure in what degree each was used."

I sigh slightly.

"I tried to tell her it was too dangerous for a child, but she merely disagreed and ran off to lead me into the bowels of your ship. If not for your 'angel of mercy' I'd have never come as far as I have."

"Perhaps that is w--" the squeaks are quickly translated and I glare down at him, silencing the creature immediately. My own daughter leads the rebellion against me now, and I know it, but do not need to be reminded. All the same, I have no intentions of refusing her the seat of Empress. These rebellions give me reason to exercise the anger I still feel toward the creatures, both for my and her sake. . . and perhaps she is right that my ruthlessness is no longer needed in a conquered galaxy.

Perhaps I will retire to earth. See how Mayor Gannon has done with it after my father appointed him on his deathbed. It's been Seventy years now since my father passed, but perhaps time with my own people will still quiet my anger.

And besides, I think, glancing toward the door, Elliot and Toshiro have gotten old, and it is perhaps time for me to find a new husband. Or three.

I let out a long slightly defeated sigh, and for a moment my age shows. "Regardless, it was due to her knowledge of the ship, and ability to fit into access panels that allowed us to navigate to the engine core. Of course, along the way she suggested methods to hide, and asked that I not hurt the unarmed aliens."







I straighten myself and look directly at my biographer. "I ignored every warning, and killed every little green sack of worthless flesh between me and my objective. Each and every one of you on that ship was complacent."

"This would become a pattern across many worlds. The Slaughter of Orion, the Butchering of Andromeda. . . it was five years of righteous genocide before I decided to make your empire into mine, rather than merely wiping your race from the galaxy, and it was only Sally's pleading that convinced me of it."


I turn my back on the creature again, and stare at the galaxy map, letting the memories flow.


"Our goal, at the time," I segue back into how I took over their ship, "was to get to the bridge of your ship. Or the 'top' as Sally called it."



"Her first plan was to use a teleportation pad that led directly there, however your captain had shut it off. Sally believed that they must be 'very mad about us exploring'. I prefer to believe he had already realized that death was coming for him, and was doing all he could to slow my inexorable march."



"Unfortunately for him, Sally had another plan."













"She led me to four cryo-pods, and there I saw, for the first time, my future husbands and General Paulson, though her plan did not involve them. Instead she insisted that I needed the spacesuit from the 'space man' to go outside and climb to the top."

"Elliot was a combat medic. You had taken his unit as well. He was mostly worried about them, and paranoid. Understandable, but irritating. He's just lucky he's so pretty. . . as for Paulson, well, he didn't want to talk about it, and probably doesn't want me publishing it. If you want his history, you can ask him yourself."

The small creature shakes his head, and my lips twist into a sadistic grin, which quickly softens. "As for Toshiro, well. . . I couldn't understand a word Toshiro said," I added, tapping my ear piece. "I know now he was worried about his sword. Silly man. . . knowing what I do now, it was probably compensation, but he makes up f--" I clear my throat. There's no need to mention THAT in the biography.

"Regardless," I state with a finality that says I would not be continuing that line of thought. "Sally informed me that I would need to destroy three more generators if I was going to go outside. I can't remember why."



"But, I do remember that I grabbed Elliot and headed to the Cryo-labs."



"I found countless frozen humans and ghouls, but they were all insane when I attempted to wake them up. Occassionally they were useful--wake them up next to your people and let them murder each other--but for the most part I only revived them to put them out of their misery and ensure, that even if I failed, I'd at least set back the experiments happening on that ship--awful experiments I would encounter later."



I let out a small sigh, and speak in slightly hushed tones. "I'm still not sure whether I regret bringing Elliot to that place. . . we found his squad. Your people had torn them apart. Vivisected."





"They paid, however, when I activated the room freeze while they were still inside."



". . .Though it was of little comfort to Elliot," I finish, before putting on a strong demeanor once more, speaking with the power my subjects had come to expect.



"And that's when I discovered the first part of your plan. Awful as it was, I did not fully understand it yet, merely seeing thousands upon thousands of stasis tubes. They stretched out as far as the eye could see. But I shrugged it off."



"It wouldn't matter, I reasoned, what your plan was, when I put an end to it."



"We made our way back to the Engine Core after destroying the generator, but I asked Elliot to stay behind. He had seen enough, and while I hated you as much as anyone, his anger at seeing his squad. . . it was affecting his judgment. We were still outnumbered. Only five adult humans and a single child against your entire mothership."

I laugh for a moment. "At the time I thought our odds were slim. Now I realize it was four more people than we needed."



I calm myself before continuing, "I took Paulson down to your Hangars, to find the generator down there."



"Your men tried to stop us, I don't know how many of them. . . but that just let me play ping pong with the hangar pylons and dead aliens, while Paulson blasted holes in any that managed to get past the hangar floor--of which there were few."

"Ping pong?" the creature asks, timidly, scuttering back from me a little.

I glance back over my shoulder and nod, before turning fully around, back to face him. "A human game, you use small wooden paddles," I hold my hands apart a bit to demonstrate their size, "And knock a ball back and forth across a field. That's all you really need to know to understand the comparison."

He nods slowly, and seems a shade paler than he had been before. Good.



"Destroying the hangar generator was child's play. Pathetically easy, really."



"Sally informed me that the last place left to hit was Robotic Assembly, so I asked Somah to come with--she had a good technical mind, and it seemed it would be useful there."



". . .I'm still not sure if she actually was." I shrug, the pauldrons of my power armor squealing against the plates of my breast, slightly.





"You had turned all the teleporters off again, so I was forced to blow out an assembly line to get past."



"And back there you made yet another mistake, when you sent some kind of commander after me with a robot controller. I blew a hole in his chest, and helped myself to an army of drones."



"Not that they lasted long. . . your people sent their own robotic army after me, and when the smoke cleared dead aliens and destroyed bots littered the floor of the assembly area. . ."



"And the way was clear to the generator."



"That was all three generators down, so I slipped into my space suit, and decompressed a section of the ship."



I chuckle a little as I recount the memory. "Someone didn't anticipate the manuever and failed to either give an evacuation order, or vacuum protection to the aliens stationed there. The floors were littered with their bodies, asphyxiated."









"Once outside I found a beam transporter, almost exactly like the one that had originally lifted me from the surface of the planet, and soon I found myself inside."



"It didn't take me long to find and activate a teleporter to bring Sally and the others up. . . and it was there I saw. . ."



"Well, it was the first time I saw a planet from space. It was. . . beautiful, but clearly dead, and grey. A kind of tragic beauty that earth had. Of course, the moment was soon interrupted."



"By a comedy show." I smirk. "The captain had decided to speak to us directly, and the ship rumbled with what was obvious a serious discharge of energy--the ship's cannon I'd learn later--and though I couldn't understand what he was saying, I could tell from inflection it was a threat."

A laugh escapes my mouth, a short one. Almost like a bark.

"He thought to threaten us? It was then, exactly then, I knew that I was going to win. He was scared. He knew he couldn't stop us. Why else attempt words NOW after so many attempts to simply kill us all. No, this was the captain admitting his defeat, he just didn't realize it yet."



"Of course he had turned off more of the teleporters, which meant I would have to simply carve a path through the ship. At first, this was sim--no, it was simple regardless. It never got difficult. You know my reputation as a warrior, so I don't have to explain how simple I found it to cut through a single ship, with the records of what I have done to entire garrisons. . ."

The biographer merely nods, and replies, "There. . . there is no need to go into details, My Lady."

"However, it was on my way to the bridge. . ."



"That I came across the biolab, and. . ."



"Amongst the horrors of that place. . ."







"Discovered why your people wanted to take so many of mine. A. . . crossbreed, between alien and human. Awful monsters, who knew only pain and violence. Complete abominations. . ."

My gaze hardens, and my hand tightens on my atomizer, plainly terrifying the alien before.

"It was then I decided that your civilization would fall."









"And all its members would perish--though at Sally's insistence I have settled for mere enslavement."



"When I reached the bridge it took only a single blast from my atomizer," I pat the old relic on my hip. "The very one I still wear, to put a hole in the captain's head. After that clearing out the rest the bridge crew was hardly memorable."



"Of course, my conquest would not begin yet. No, first another Alien Commander hailed the ship, though this time the ship's computer translated for me after a moment of fiddling with its translation program to output in english. I don't remember his exact words, but it was a call for surrender and a quick death if I did, as opposed to becoming a research subject again. . ."



"I merely closed the channel and took my seat, and within moments explosions were rocking the ship."





"He tried beaming over more of your soldiers, but you know how that went for him. . ."



"And eventually Toshiro made his way to the bridge. With him and Paulson watching my back I was able to concentrate on the ship to ship volleys"





"As the burning hulk of the enemy ship drifted into Earth's gravity well, I turned back to the others, and addressed them. . ."

The speech comes almost as naturally as it did the first time I gave it, as I recount it for the history of my empire. "I don't know about you, but I don't feel this is enough. I saw the things they did to us. I know what they did to Paulson's family. To Sally's parents and Sister. To Elliot's crew. . . and I know why they did it. The horrible experiments they did to create half-human half-alien abominations. That not even the lives of their own kind are sacred to them. And I, like most of you, don't have a home to go back to. . . so instead. . . instead of going home, I say we take them apart. We show them that humanity is not a toy to be played with. We show them just who we are!"

"I turned to the console and pressed a few buttons, bringing up a map of homeworlds and research stations. In effect, a map of your entire civilization. A galaxy map sprung up and thousands of worlds lit up. I heard Toshiro behind me."

""

"I glanced down at the translator to see what he had said, and replied, "They aren't worthy to be my opponents!"

I stop and laugh again for a moment. "At the time. . . I thought it was bravado, but now. . . now I'm known as 'The Grey Empress' referencing the color of your blood. . . The Nightmare of Andromeda, the Final Wind, Despoiler of Orion, the Hellfire that Consumed a Thousand Worlds. . . My name is death in ten thousand languages. . ."

As I talk I move over to my chair, and finally fall into it. "And I am. . . very tired. I know you were an assassin sent by my daughter's rebellion. I realize this was a ploy to get you close."

The alien stops shock still, as I continue to speak. He thinks his life is at an end. "But I'm not going to kill you. I allowed you here for a reason, knowing all that. Tell my daughter, tell Sally, that the throne is hers. All she needs do is grant me amnesty on earth. . . and promise to visit on Christmas," I add with a wry smile.

"If she agrees to this, I will surrender all power and never leave my home planet again. Your. . . people will be safe. . . Now go."

The small man nods and scurries out of the room, as I release a long sigh and slide down in my chair letting centuries of rage slowly leak out of me. No longer useful.

No longer needed.


---------- Post added at 05:08 AM ---------- Previous post was at 05:06 AM ----------

This is a non-canon 'elseworlds' update. It was the only way I felt I could really fit Zeta in, and I feel is better than a normal one, anyway.

Also, Aero, I have no idea what you're asking for, unless you're just asking for the updates to be bigger than the last one.

Which, well, that one was small to make room for this one.

[BitVyper]

I'm basically picturing Lucy delivering Frieza's bit from the TFS series, about keeping track of how many times she's heard various heroic speeches.

[Krylo]

I'd like to say that I haven't abandoned this again. I've just been feeling kinda shitty and dealing with massive amounts of writer's block (plus there was that whole Dies Natalis Solis Invicti thing).

I've got the next update maybe. . . half done? A quarter?

But it's like banging my head into a wall. I'll get through it eventually. Hopefully next week.

In the meantime I'd like to draw attention to the Zeta update I did which I think was probably missed by most people?

[Krylo]

Grinding Iron

"Heey, finally awake eh, Newbie?"



I turn my head toward the voice, and see a man holding a rifle. He laughs.

"Yeaaah, you and me, we're gonna have some good times. Ain't no one gotta know. Keep your mouth closed and it won't even ruin ruin the sale price," he says as he comes a bit closer. I narrow my eyes, and slide a foot back, stancing myself. It elicits another laugh from him as he pulls out a small metal object. "No no no, newbie, you see this?" he jams it against the gate, waving it in my face. "This here controls that collar of yours. One little press and BOOM goes your he--"

Putting it against the gate was a mistake, I reach through the gap between the gate and the fence and grab him pulling him close, putting my head next to his while I wrap my arm across his throat.

"Then press it!" I hiss in his ear, as I press down on his throat. I can feel his struggling getting weaker as I reach out for his belt, feeling for keys, ah there the--

Thwip

My arm comes away from him as I feel a sharp pain in my back and a stagger back.



Looks like I might have killed him but wha. . .



I feel my legs go out and I stumble backwards. I can't stand. But I can still hear, as my consciousness fades. . .

"Jesus, Jerome, are you alright!?"

"Uuugh y. . . yeah let's just get that bitch outta here. . ."

"No shit, I'll tell Eulogy to ship her off on the n--"



Don't know how long it's been when I wake up, but the sky is different. Sun burns into my eyes. . . no buildings or statues. . .



I pull myself to my feet and look around. . .



Oh christ. Was I sleeping in that?

What even happened to him?

Before I can really contemplate, however, I hear a sharp short sound, and feel a sting in my side again, as I begin to get doozy, I turn toward the gate.



"Nuh uh. You ain't gettin' up until you're in your new ho--"



This. . . is getting really old. My head is pounding. Probably an after effect of the drugs.



I slowly sit up. . . and it's like I'm in hell. No cage though. Maybe I can actually stand up here. . .



I stagger about my new environs, taking it in, slowly.



"What are you doing!? Get back to work! Don't let them see us talking!" she hisses as I stop to look for a way to get her out. . . and then I slowly walk away. I don't know what she's talking about. Where I am.

What even happened.

I wander into a building to rest and after a moment I hear someone coming up behind me and turn.



"Actually. . . I didn't see anything on the way in. Where am I?"

The woman sighs. "The Pitt. Just like the rest of us."

"The. . . what?"

She rubs the bridge of her nose for a moment. "The ruins of Pittsburgh. It's. . . we're slaves."

I reach up and rub my neck. No metal there now. . . but. . . right. The collar. The cage. Moriarty getting back his investment. . . that son of a bitch sold me.

I pull my hand away and clench it in a fist. "How do I get out?"

"Get out? What? Are you insane? They have an army watching us, not to mention the trogs outside, and all the tr--"

I hold out a hand. "Woah, what? Trogs?"

She looks at me like I'm crazy, "Troglodytes. . . they're. . . theres a sickness here. Water. . . air. . . we're all affected by it, and there's only two ways it ends. Either we die coughing up on our blood or we. . ." she sighs and looks away. "Trogs are what we all hope we never become. Monsters that only care about devouring flesh and killing. . ."

"So like those. . . feral. . . ghoul. . . things?"

She looks back to me with a quizzical look. "Ghouls--I don't know. . . maybe?"

I shudder a little. A disease that makes people into ghouls? I wonder if that's how the bartender back in Megaton ended up that way? But at least he kept his mind. I wonder how rare that is, before I shake it off.

"That just means I need to get out of here even more."

She sighs. "But no one can get out, don't yo--"

"Listen, there's got to be something. Maybe I can get the rest of you out too, I don't know. But there must have been some kind of escape or something before?" I can feel desperation creeping into my voice.

"No, there hasn't been. . . but. . . if you want to try the first thing you're going to need are weapons. . . "

I let out a sigh of relief. If I can get a good gun in my hands. . . well at least I'll have a fighting chance. And then I nod, signalling her to continue.

She bobs her head around, "You see. . .



. . .It's practically a death sentence, though. And they never choose anyone. They make us pick who's going to do it. Bastards." She's got a mix between despair and anger in her voice. A completely impotent anger. It infuriates her and she hates it, but she doesn't think there's anything she can do.

Can't figure out why though. . .

"That doesn't SOUND like a death sentence?"

"Yeah? Well the area is full of Trogs, and it's not like they're keen on letting you borrow one of their guns," she responds, her anger directed partially at me now, and sounding a bit less impotent.

That explains things. I nod. "So great, how does that get me a weapon?"

"Not just trogs out there, there's. . . people they call the Wildmen. Just about as bad as trogs, but we've heard stories of them. They've got guns. . . if you can get them away from them. There's the ruins of an old factory there as well, might be able to find some weapons. . ."

I nod slowly. Well that's sounding. . . possible, but. . . "But how am I suppose to survive long enough to get a gun?"

She looks slowly to the right and then to the left before leaning in, "Listen, don't tell anyone I told you this but. . . Marco in the Mill. . . he's been altering some of our tools into weapons."

"What? Why?"

She shakes her head. "I can't be sure you're really one of us yet. You come back from the yard and. . . we'll see."

". . .Right." They must be planning something with those weapons. But it's not really any of my business so long as they--

The door opens and a man walks in, looking around before glancing over his shoulder at the woman I've been speaking to, apparently Midea.



"Uhm. . . Nothing. Nothing. . . uh . . . sir. I was just telling this new worker about the job the foreman posted."

"Oh yeah? So she's the one going out into the Steelyard, huh?"

"Yes sir. I told her what she needs to do. 10 ingots. As fast as she can."

Well son of a bitch. Thanks for that Midea. You know, not like I would have liked some time to think about walking into certain death or anything.

"Well then, I hope you said goodbye!" He cackles for a few seconds. "Alright, play time's over. Get to work, Grinders."

. . .I still don't have any idea what my job is.

Midea turns to me as he leaves. "I'm. . . uh. . . I just kind of panicked. . ."

I sigh and put my face in my hand. "Whatever. I guess I was going to, anyway," I respond before leaving.




I don't get very far before I stop just. . . staring at the lesions on her. She notices me looking before I can break eye contact and heads over.

"Hey, have you seen Bill?"

I guess she didn't notice the stare, or the disgust. Lucky me.

"I'm uh, new here? Who's Bill?"



Jesus Christ. I'm trying my best not to retch. I can smell her flesh rotting. This is. . . actually worse than Gob, to be honest. Gob was just. . . not human. This? This is disease.

I can barely concentrate on what she's saying. Too busy concentrating on the fact that I've got to get out of here before I end up like her. Just. . . falling apart.

A chunk of skin falls off her shoulder, and I try to ignore the sickening plop on the ground as I force myself to refocus on the words she's saying. . .

"--the Steel Yard to look for scrap. Didn't want anyone to die, but it's been a week and nobody's heard anything. . . but he's a survivor. He can't be dead!"

"Well. . . uh, I guess I was just volunteered for the job. I could take a look, I guess. . ."



Inwardly, I kind of hope he's dead. Not out of malice, but. . . looking at her, and remembering what that other woman said about how it gets to all of them eventually. He's probably better off than living like this.

Outwardly, however, I keep it to myself, and instead just awkwardly nod. "Yeah, well, I'll be fine. Probably."

I pull myself away, past her, and head out into what looks like it was once an intersection.



People in the street, chopping apart iron with large rotary saws and tossing the chunks into the fire. Some kind of massive salvage operation?

Is this what all the slaves are for?



Looking up I can see smokestacks pumping smoke into the air. I wonder if it has something to do with the illnesses everyone feels, but, more than that, I wonder just what they could be doing with all this salvage. I know these places were called factories from the pre-war books and movies down in the vault, but with what I've seen of the wasteland?

Well I highly doubt there's any others running in the world.

Doesn't take long for me to find a door into the factory.



Steel presses. Still not sure what they're pressing the steel into, though.

Don't have long to think about it either, as I hear a voice behind me.



"Hey, Scab, what're you crazy? Just standin' around like that? Get ta work before I tear yer arms off!" She starts laughing as I glance around quickly.

"Sorry, I'm new. . . one of the. . . bosses told me Marco could give me my tools?"

She looks to the ground and spits, before yanking a thumb toward the middle of the mill. "Yeah yeah, just hurry up and get your shit, scab."

I nod and hurry off. I don't want to start a war until I've at least got a gun.



Doesn't take me long to find him, or at least I think it's him.

"Hey, you Marco? Midea s--



Yup, it's him.

"Sorry," I reply, in a whisper. "Midea said you could get me a weapon. . . I'm heading out into the yard, and. . ."

"Yeah, right, I got word along the grapevine," he nods, and heads over to a table, hefting up what looks like one of the tools the slaves outside were using. "It's not the best, but it'll help some, I hope," he says as he hands it to me.

"Replaced the blade. . . ain't so good for cutting steel anymore, but it shouldn't bind on flesh. Decreased the RPMs a bit, too, so it wouldn't bind up on different materials. . . like bone, you know. . . Anyway, good luck," he says as he turns back to whatever he was doing.




I look it over once he's done talking. Blade does look different, though I didn't get a good look at the ones the other slaves were using. Hopefully it's not too obvious. Thing's bulky, hard to manuever.

I don't want to have to fight my way out of here with this thing, and I definitely don't want to use it in a fire fight.



Doesn't take me long to find the entrance to the Steelyard. Or I assume, anyway. What with the big sign pointing at it, and the guard, who waves me over when he sees me.



Something about his voice. He seems like a little less of an asshole than the rest of the guards and slavers here.

"Yeah, seems I ain't got much of a choice," I reply with a shrug.

He chuckles a little. "Well this ain't no union shop. C'mon."

He waves me forward and I start to follow him.





Thanks for the vote of confidence. . .

"Then again. . ."





"Huh. . ?" I glance up.



Jesus. That's not a ghoul. Don't know what the hell it is. . . Trog? That's what they were calling it?



Right, I think Midea mentioned something about people living out there. Maybe I can get some clothes or weapons from them if they're willing to trade.



"That way I won't have to walk so far to loot your corpse."

I just shrug. "I'll see what I can do."

He lets out a single 'heh'. More of a fast exhalation of breath than a real laugh.



"If, by some strange twist o' fate you manage to survive long enough to turn them in to me, I'll see if I can't slip a little something your way."

I nod and head out the door.



. . .Nice place. But at least there's probably no sl--hey wait a minute what's that?




Well, things are looking up already. I grab the rifle, and the couple of steel ingots that are laying, literally, within 10 feet of the door.



Feeling pretty good about this now. Not many rounds, but. . . I've got a proper gun.



I head a little deeper in when I see another slave trying to. . . talk to one of the trogs. It's staring at him, head half cocked.

I listen closer.

"Come on Henry. It's me, your brother. You remember me don't you. . . Henry?"

The creature cocks its head the other direction and takes a few steps forward. "That's right, it's me. Your brother. . ." I can almost hear the hope in his voice.

And my heart sinks as the thing lets out a gutteral growl and leaps forward.




I squeeze my trigger, almost without thinking. The bullets rip through its left claw and into its brain, splattering the back wall. I just saved his life. . .

But he merely breaks down crying for his brother.



I head down closer. "Hey! Get back to the mill!" He doesn't seem to hear my voice despite the fact I'm shouting and about 10 feet away.

He just keeps sobbing over the creature repeating the name Henry over and over again.

. . . There's nothing I can do for hi--

Sound behind me.





Shouting must have lured them out. Maybe the gunfire too. I've still got a few rounds, but. . . the other guy, he's still just crying. Can't leave him here like this.

I start looking around for something to help.




That just might do it.




If I can just. . .




Let's clear that crying bastard a safe zone, shall we?



And they're all still operational. Nice.



Well, that should keep him safe, anyway.

. . . Back to work.

There's a door into the building next to the robots, figuring I might find more ingots in there I press it open and head inside carefully.



I can hear movement deeper inside, and that dead robot, riddled with bullet holes, tells me to move slow and careful.



I manage to crack into security system at the terminal there. Turn back on the defense system. And am greeted by the sound of automatic fire, running, and some shouting.

. . . Guess there were people in there. Whoops.





I hear clanging on the metal floor of the hallway next to me and peek out thinking it might be human.



Just another Trog.


I start to head up the tunnel when I hear an explosion. Probably the turret system being taken back 'offline'.



Few steps in and I see a woman running across.

"Hey, sor--"

She swings up her gun and a bullet passes by my face.



Well, guess they're not going to be friendly.



Still, that leather is probably going to provide better protection than these rags. . . and proper boots. Look about my size even.

. . . I really don't want to take them from the dead, but. . .

I take a deep breath and start stripping her down.



Fits pretty well.

Her gun's an awful .38 revolver, though. I'd honestly leave it behind, but I'm running low on ammo, and I don't want to have to fall back to that axe thing.



I head a bit deeper in, and see some trogs feasting on human flesh. From my vantage point it doesn't take long to blast them apart. . .



But I'm not exactly rolling in bullets either. I pop out the magazine to take a look.

Two. And probably one in the chamber.

That's. . . probably not good, but no real option now but to keep going.



Manage to find some supplies. Ammo box just has more 38 ammo, though. Not particularly useful.



Also find another robot and turn him on, but he just stomps about where he is. Ignores any orders I try to give him to head further in.

Guess he can secure this area and watch my back, anyway.

With a sigh I head further into the factory.



. . . and there goes my last bullets.



. . .Great. Just wonderful.

Well they haven't noticed me yet so. . . maybe I can get the drop on them, if I'm lucky.

I crouch low and sneak around to the back of the mine cart, and then sprint out around the corner.



The repurposed cutting tool bites through his neck like butter.



Another, standing right next to him, steps in, pushing my arms to the side, and raising a pistol to my stomach. Moving, and thinking, quickly I drop the tool, and step sideways and back while grabbing his hand. I pull it through past me and force him to fire once into the third man before stepping backing it.



I push the gun in against his his chest, still holding it and fire off three rounds.



. . . Metal armor.

I sigh. Survival before fashion. . . or decency.

I unstrap the flamer and get to work.



Probably going to need this protection when all I've got is a .38 and this cutter.



Find some more Iron behind them too. I got 10 now. That's enough to buy my survival but. . . I really need some better guns, or at least more ammo for my rifle. So I press on.



Huh. Wonder what's up with this?



Doesn't take me long to Jimmy the lock. Whole bunch more iron, some medical supplies, a .38 on the desk, and a dead body.

Browsing over the computer tells me this is all untouched since before the war. Looks like there was some kind of worker revolt when they replaced the men with those robots.

Incredibly ancient history now, though.

I head back out and keep on exploring the Factory, heading up some catwalks.



Bedroom. Weird.

I secure the area, though, and help myself to a little undrugged rest, after clearing off the bed. It's nice to relax for a bit.

When I wake up I head out across the room, find a catwalk heading down. . .



Electrical switch opens the heavy security door back at the entrance hall. Well, that's the factory, I guess.

Gonna take a look around the yard a bit before I head back, though.



Sweet, sweet bullets.

I rummage through the containers, and his body for any ammo I can find. Not a lot, but a few magazines.



Hm, looks like a stair case heading up. Might as well give it a look.



Dead slave. Bandana. Also find a note on him.

I flip it open and read it.

. . .

Well, that diseased woman isn't going to be too happy. Looks like it's Wild Bill.

I sigh, and turn to look up the stairs, as I slide the note under my armor.

It's only about three steps before I hear shouting. I look up and charge in.





Trying to conserve ammo, and he was close enough.



Turning around I find a little storage area. Couple more magazines, some grenades. . . I'm starting to feel pretty good about this.

I figure it's probably better to head back while I'm still in one piece.

. . . honestly not sure if I'll be able to smuggle the armor and assault rifle back in, come to think of it. I might have to rely on the .38.



Doesn't take me long to find my way back. I open the door and let out a sigh of relief, starting to relax as I hea--



"Shit!"

Christ, those goddamn things can talk. It leaps at me teeth bared, attempting to make good on it's declaration that I'm 'food'.



Bullets beat Trog, though, even when I'm taken by surprise.



Must be how he got in. Not that I much care. I'm done out here now.

I roll my shoulders and walk through the door.



"Thought ya had died out there, you took so long. Well, that and the fact everyone dies out there."

He lets out a little chuckle as I turn over the ingots I'd collected. Well over 10.

"Haha, nice haul, scab. Tell ya what, seemin' as you done so good I ain't gonna take that armor back from you. You know what, I'll even give you a little somethin' extra. . ."

He turns and rummages through a cabinet and comes back out holding what looks like a bikini made out of bomb casings.



"Which just means they'll be inside your blast radius, huh?" he leers at me, and I take the armor off him, repressing the urge to vomit. Probably the only person whose skin isn't falling off in chunks he's seen in awhile.

. . . I really need to get out of here, I think as I turn to le--

"Hold on there, Scab. I may've said ya can keep the armor, but I let you go walking around with an Assault Rifle, well. . ."

I freeze up for a moment and then sigh, shrugging the rifle off my shoulder and handing it over to him. "There ya go. Ain't got no more fire arms do ya? It's my ass on tha line if I someone ends up shot. . . well someone other than onna you scabs."

I force myself not to look down at my ribs, where the .38 is resting comfortably beneath my armor and shake my head. "Nope."

"Alright, head on back in, and git about your business. If ya decide to head back out there, I'll toss your gun back at ya."

I nod, and head back out.



Some kind of commotion going on.



. . .Escaped slave. I want to do something but. . . with this peashooter and three of them. . . I. . . I just watch and head back.



I'm just going to sl--



I turn around to find the woman from before. Right, could have expected her to wait for me to sleep away my depression.

I'm tired though, so I just reach into my armor and pull out the note and hand it to her, saying, "Yeah."

She reads it slowly, and I can see tears welling up in her eyes. "He's dead? But he promised m--he promised us he would come back. . . I. . . I have to let the others know."

I simply nod, and repeat myself. "Yeah."

She shoves a couple of stimpaks into my hands, thanking me for my help, despite how things turned out, and then walks away, looking even more like a corpse than before.



I turn back to the bed and collapse onto it.

---------- Post added at 07:16 AM ---------- Previous post was at 07:15 AM ----------

Not all that happy with this one, to be honest. Had a lot of trouble writing it and it just didn't feel like it was flowing right.

Hopefully that's just me being my own worst critic, however.

Also, hopefully the next one flows a bit better.