Return of the Lone Wanderer-16

Return of the Lone Wanderer – 16

In a story, we'd have made long, passionate love of those who have kept themselves from each other for far too long.  In a story, it would have been enough for a lifetime.

This isn't a story, it's real life.

And the reality of the situation is that I had had far too much to drink.  From a professional standpoint, I doubted that I could even have performed properly, even if I hadn't slid out of my power amour and fell face-first onto Sarah's couch, the only thing keeping me upright from far too much work done on far too little sleep added with far too many beer.  Elder Lyons looked at me in anger, then disgust, then pity, and kissed me on the forehead and turned off the light.

The last look hurt the worst.

I woke up and looked at my Pip-Boy to see how long I slept, then gave up trying to figure that out as I didn't know when I fell asleep.  My armour was gone, but in the Citadel I was far from worried, likely just taken to be maintained.  I hadn't done much in the way of modifications to it for that to be difficult for the Scribes here to do.

Raiding the Sarah's liquor cabinet for some whiskey, a bottle of Nuka-Cola and a glass, I headed out of the Solar, and asked a random Knight where the information was being correlated.  He informed me it was in the lab, so I headed down there.  It was a flurry of motion as Scribes of all sorts clustered around Liberty Prime's head, portable generators and improvised metal pallets were being put together, and a large data cable was feeding from the commotion to the electronic map on the side, where a radio and what took me a second to recognize as a gun camera from one of the fighter jets on Rivet City's flight deck.  Made sense, it was a electronic system that could move, and did so, the aperture of the camera moving to focus on me.

"Special Agent Browning, it is good to see you."  Liberty Prime's voice came out of the radio, not the massive booming echo normally heard but still his nonetheless, "I am reviewing the enemy forces as reconnaissance has reported.  General Lyons has decided to risk air forces for such a purpose.  In addition, I have updates on friendly forces coming from various areas.  It will be a great day for killing as many Communist Invaders as possible!"

"Special Agent now, am I?  And I told you before, Big P, I think they're Fascists.  I guess we'll ask any survivors.  What do you want to bet on the outcome?"  I replied jokingly, sitting down on the couch and pouring myself a Nuked Nobleman drink, Old Royale whiskey and Nuka-Cola.

"I have nothing with which to wager.  All I have is my duty to safeguard my country to the best of my ability, which, right now, is to advise our military leaders."

I sat for a second while I took my first drink, remembering back to that day when I asked Miguel for the good scotch, it seemed a lifetime ago, not less than a week.  I thought of my fortune in bottlecaps, my supply caches, my debts owed.  I thought of my home in Megaton and the armoury that it made up.  Hell, I even thought of my collectable bobblehead dolls.  I thought of all that, and told Liberty Prime, "You know something, that's all I have too."

I looked at the map myself then, a swath of forces were leading up the path to the former entrance of Raven Rock, the former base of the Enclave and home of the AI President Eden.  Moving the magnifier, I saw the various units designated with old US Military icons.  Heavy units for power armour, mechanized units for mercenaries, and light infantry for raiders.  It was a lot of people all in one place, whoever this General Burke was, he had to be a charismatic bastard, and had a fortune to spend convincing all those people to work together.

"So, they know we're aware of their forces, right?  Have to be if we had a Vertibird do a fly-by.  Element of surprise, well, we never had that.  So, they have to march on us, and the first place of any importance for them to attack is Tenpenny Tower."  I mused to myself as I heard the camera beside me whir in movement.

"That would not be a sufficiently applicable area for a defensive battle, the enclosure has already exceeded forces available.  Most have bivouacked in the close-by subway tunnels that had previously been entrenched for defensive positions."  Liberty Prime responded to the thoughts spoken out loud.

"Location location location, always so important.  We have to get them in a position where we have the advantage, but would also allow them a chance for retreat so that they don't feel they can't escape.  Raiders aren't exactly known for the greatest courage, Talon Company is better but are still just mercenaries, and the Enclave troops have been handed two major defeats.  If we can break their moral, we can force them to retreat without exposing the majority of our troops to extensive combat.  We lack the material for that."

"'When on dispersive ground, do not do battle.  When on deadly ground, fight.' - Sun Tzu."

"Damn, all the good lines are already spoken."  I said, walking up to the map and moving the magnifying glass as I considered my own memory finally finding a place, "Here.  Lots of elevated positions that can easily be set up as sites for forces, and a narrow passageway to the north we can leave available."  I said, tapping an area.

Liberty Prime's electric eye focused on the area, "The topographical map of the area does not suggest those advantages."

"'The map is not the territory' - Alfred Korzybski.  This map is two hundred years out of date, Liberty Prime.  I've been all over this area a few times, and this is the best spot to lay in troops, if we can move them quickly enough."

"The better equipped and further distanced friendly forces are being transferred by our air forces, giving us an advantage in mobility that the enemy does not possess, as well as close air support for the coming battle.  'God fights on the side with the best artillery.' - Napoleon Bonaparte."

"Seems to be a day for quotations, doesn't it?  All right, let's see if we can get them to start moving forces to the area and see what local commanders who have experience with fighting with large forces have to think of my little spot."

"Excellent suggestion, Special Agent Browning.  While your personal combat skills are undeniable, I notice a lack of large unit combat experience in your personal files.  In addition, your awards do not correlate to the standards of any forces in the United States of America."

"Two hundred years, Big P.  There's been a few changes, remember?"

"Yes.  But America still stands strong in defence of freedom and democracy!"  The radio cracked as Liberty Prime attempted to overload the speaker with pure volume.

"Um, yeah."  I decided not to fight with him, he was trapped in his own programming in a lot of ways, and was not a true learning AI in others.  Crippled to prevent him from trying to take over from us humans, from what I've been able to figure out of his code.  What I've seen of it.  We discussed strategies and philosophy while I worked on the two bottles, eventually giving up on the cola and just drinking straight whiskey.

We must have made a strange sight.  A man in a numberless vault suit and a robot half a room away having a discussion like this.  In a way, I felt that Liberty Prime was yet another of the companions I had travelled with in life who I lead to destruction.  The Lone Wanderer is what Three Dog had named me, despite the number of people that went with me through the adventures I've had, but the appellation was true.  I was alone.

"Scri...  Um, Star Paladin Browning, we're ready to start loading the command staff.  You've been requested to join them."  Head Scribe Rothchild said, coming up to me and correcting my title.  I had found and gotten the printing presses at Hubris Comics working again, allowing small books to be made in production lots.  While they were right out of red, they had plenty of black ink available.  That act had gotten me the honorary title of Scribe in the Order of the Quill, and was addressed as a Scribe by the rest of the members of the three orders of Scribes, the technicians and historians of the Brotherhood of Steel.  My new rank of Star Paladin, however, trumped that honorarium.

I smiled at him and offered him the last swallow of the bottle, which he declined, "Thank you, Head Scribe.  And, well, we've known each other far too well, it's just James.  I'm still that lost outsider teen who stumbled onto an ancient conspiracy after all."  I informed him.

He bowed graciously, "Well then, James.  As one of the command staff yourself, you should get to Vertibird-2.  The Elder is on Steel-1 and we're rigging up Liberty Prime for Vertibird-3.  Your weapons and armour have already been loaded."

"Cross-loading, good idea.  Just in case they have anti-aircraft ability, even if they haven't shown it yet.  And I'm saying things that are painfully obvious, so I should hope I sober up a bit on the flight."  I said, standing up and trying to remember when I last ate something.  The Nuked Nobleman drinks I've had seemed to have gone directly to my head.

"I'll have some Squirrel Stew sent up from the kitchen while the pilot performs his preflight check."  Rothchild said, flicking a hand to a young and low-ranking scribe in a commanding fashion.

"Appreciated.  Look, Scribe Rothchild, I want to thank you for everything you've done for me since I first arrived here.  It's been..."

"Don't speak like that, James.  You're far from dead, and a hell of a man to kill as you've proven time and again.  If it comes to that, I know.  If it doesn't, we're going through what's left of the Enclave's records on their radiation treatment research.  I'm sure we'll find something that will stave off your illness."  He said, he sounded so sure of himself, too.  Of course, this was the man that was able to lead the team that fixed the issues that even the pre-war scientists hadn't been able to do and get Liberty Prime to work.

Unsteadily, I walked to the Vertibird in the Bailey, one of three sitting there being loaded with command staff and communications equipment.  Elder Lyons, wearing her hold T-45d Power Armour, bearing the symbol of the Elder and Lyon's Pride upon each breast, smiled and waved at me from the one closest to the small crack in the wall where Liberty Prime's foot had clipped the Citadel.  I smiled and waved back, then saluted with a closed palm to the chest.  She turned serious and saluted back.  Steel-1, the designation that went with the Elder of the Capital Wasteland Brotherhood of Steel took off while she stepped inside as the stairway closed upwards flush with the rest of the body.

I watched as the craft disappeared beyond the wall.  Sighing, I walked up into my own designated Vertibird, only to have an initiate behind me quickly, holding a bowl of squirrel stew and a spoon.  The Brown Brahmin Gravy was thick and hearty, and the chunks of squirrel were big.  I thanked her, realizing that she was even younger than I had been when I left Vault 101, and knew that she'd likely be one of the new Knights attempting to defend the Citadel if we were not successful.  I ate quickly while the pilot, wearing a Enclave Officer outfit that had been turned battleship grey, flipped switches and started the turbines whirring, and soon enough we were off into the air.  As we lifted off, I lifted the case that held my weapons and pulled out a police gunbelt that held the Blackhawk and a bunch of speedloaders, along with some custom pouches for my mint tins of stimpaks.

I watched the front windshield as we flew across the Capital Wasteland, wondering what it must have been like so long ago when distances like what we were travelling were as little consequence as they felt now to everyone.  Even those few who couldn't afford automobiles or the extravagantly expensive fuel prices that still showed on the ruined service stations around could still take the subway trains in the now-ruined tunnels.  The decades of easy living that brought the world past the brink of war for the last few remaining resources demanded by the masses.  The last two centuries of pain and heartache caused by so few years of joy and peace.  Although I was sure I was romanticizing it.

I shook my head, pulled out the Blackhawk, and rested my chin to my chest.  A trick I had learned long ago was to sleep to get ready for the times when I wouldn't be able to.

I was later shaken awake by a person in power armour.  It only took a glance to recognize him as Knight-Captain Gallows, but by then I had the magnum revolver pointed at his belly.  He simply held up his other hand and opened it, showing a half-dozen long brass rounds in it.  The revolver felt unloaded in my hand.  "Elder Lyons wants you to help with the organization with the Wastelanders coming in.  Liberty Prime doesn't know how to classify them."  He said simply and pressed the bullets in my empty hand.

"You really need to teach me how you do that someday."  I told him with a smile.  The Vertibird was almost completely unloaded now.  I had been sound asleep, not exactly a good thing at this point in the game.

He didn't even bothering to turn his head as answered me while he walked down the steps with a communications dish, "No, I don't."

I shook my head, reloaded the revolver, and walked out into the sun, squinting as I pulled out my sunglasses and put them on.  A fine day for a war.  As fine as any other, I guess.

Tents had been set up all around a half-mile away from where we had decided to set up our position, and I wondered if it was as simple as just setting up a place to attack from and then hoping our enemies would go to it, then saw the Vertibirds flying along the flanks.  Right, any attempt to move through the other passageways would be deathtraps, ambush sites galore and tight spaces that could be filled with mines and traps of various varieties.  When it came to a lot of this, I was a rank amateur.  I should just stick to adventuring, medicine, and science.

The next few hours had me in an old army tent, telling Liberty Prime how forces were equipped and how they should be probably be utilized in forces.  I smiled as Gob, Charon, and Nurse Graves showed up, along with a good deal of Underworld's extensive medical supplies.  A few of the Wasteland doctors had shown up as well, and set up a surgical suite in another tent, while Nurse Graves was out talking to a few of the semi-trained doctors on how to do triage.  Gob stayed in the tent with Liberty Prime and myself, and made himself useful in frying up some spam and keeping my water and cola glasses filled.  Charon just stood with the tent's flap in view, his combat shotgun in his hands, and looked threatening.

Then came in Vault 101 Security Officer Wally Mack, to my utter amazement.  He had gamed the G.O.A.T. back in our youth to get the job he had wanted, something I had wish I had done myself, and our teacher Mr. Brotch had wished he had done years ago.  He wore the old vault security outfit, and had a 10mm SMG at his hip, showing that the new armour hadn't been made and delivered yet, but my gift had been issued out.  Wally Mack had been a Tunnel Snake, and one of the people that had made Amata and my lives miserable as children, but had grown up to be a respectable man.

I jumped up with a smile and held out my hand, "Wally, good to see you!  But, what brings you here?" I asked as he took my hand and sat down across from me.

"The Overseer had decided that City 101 needed to have at least some kind of force to support the forces here.  We're now part of the Capital Wasteland, so I took everyone in the Vault Security forces that doesn't suffer from Agoraphobia.  All four of us."  He said the last with a sneer, "Hardly a major force to help out."

I looked at him for a bit, the armour was in excellent shape for the Wasteland, but was ill made for defence against firearms or energy weapons, and the SMGs, while in as good condition as I could make them, were even more poorly suited for open combat like we were facing, however, I did look at the Pip-Boy on his arm, a newer model than my own.  I tapped my chin for a bit, thinking, "OK, well, your uniforms and helmets are distinctive, and those Pip-Boys you have will allow for some excellent use in their computational power.  How about this, we're going to have your men issued radio sets, which can interface with the Pip-Boys and allow for encrypted communications that our enemy forces will be hard pressed to break in time to make a change in the upcoming battle.  You won't be together, but everyone will see you, and see that you're doing an important job.  Sound fair?  Liberty Prime, do you agree?"

"Accessing.  ...  ...  Yes, the additional security provided by encrypted communication will provide a combat multiplier far surpassing their use as standard troops.  I approve of this course of action.  Confusion to the Communist Horde!"  Liberty Prime stated beside me, his massive booming voice filling the tent.

"That last bit means he likes you."  I informed Wally, as he nodded at the idea.

"To be honest, I like that idea myself.  Facing an enemy force in the open like this does not, well.  I can handle being outside, but the walk here was hell."

"Try being out here for two years in exile."  I said soberly, then smiled and shook his hand again, as he left.

Then walked in two characters in insane outfits.  The woman who walked in first, the flap held open by the man that accompanied her, was in an leather and chitin outfit that made her look like a humanoid ant.  The man that followed her had a strange metal and rubber outfit that made him look (In dark light by a half-blind idiot) like a robot.

"The AntAgonizer!"  She said.

"And The Mechanist!"  He said.

"Are here to help fight against the evil forces that would do wicked deeds against the people of this land!"  They said together, striking heroic poses.

Seconds of near silence filled the tent, broken only by the sound of Liberty Prime's generators.  Then came the sound of a heavy object hitting the desk.  It took me a moment to realize it was my own head, "Gob, please...", but Gob had already gotten a beer out and pressed it into my hand, "Oh, thank you."  I said, slowly raising my head and snapping the cap off on the folding point of the steel chair I was sitting on.  "Tanya, Scott.  You both swore you'd give up on all this Superhero, Supervillian, Superwhatever stuff."

"We will fight the forces of..."  They started again before I made a cutting motion of my hand.  They took a few moments to compose themselves, then Tanya spoke, "We just wanted to make up for the damage we did at Canterbury Commons.  And, well, it seemed like the people need a few heroes right now."

"OK, fine, you're here now, and I doubt you came alone."  I lamented, taking a pull of the beer and wishing I could drink something harder right now.

"I have a dozen Sentry Bots, fully loaded with missiles."  The Mech, Scott Wollinski said.

"I have thirty of my ant soldiers at the ready."  The AntAgon, Tanya Christoff responded in kind.

"OK, Liberty Prime, you know how to use the Sentry Bots.  Consider the ants to be a, um, canine unit.  With very large canines.  Very, very large and tough canines."  I said, thinking about my old pet, Dogmeat, and how he had died while we searched for the GECK in Vault 87 long ago.

It took hardly a second for orders to start coming from a printer on the desk next to me, which I handed to each of the costumed kooks.  Hoping that it would be the last major surprise of the day.

"We've sighted the enemy!"  A runner in leather armour said, as he ran into the tent brushing Scott aside as he did so, "They've already surrendered!  White flag and everything!"

"A white flag means that they're offering a cease fire, and are approaching unarmed.  It is likely a request to parley.  Unless it is a dirty Communist trap."  Liberty Prime informed us from his steel cradle.

"Well, guess we go find out what they have to say."  I said, and headed towards the other command tents.