War never changes, it almost goes without saying by now. Not much is left of the human race after it chose to eradicate itself with atomic fire on that fateful October day in 2077. The end, many thought, had come. But it appeared to be no more than a clean slate. For what that's worth... Out of the rubble A once mighty society rebuild, in many shapes and forms. Old and new ideas resurfaced, But war... War never changes
You are a lone wanderer in the Empire Wasteland. A Northern frontier of these once mighty United States of America. And although you might think of it as cold, because of the certain "Hot Summer" from days past, the climate, even in winter is warm and sunny. This once incredible metropole now houses a variety of Societies:
'Sanford' a small residential block converted into a safezone and eventually a working community they typically advanced first aid for favors.
'The People's Republic of Chinatown' on the southside is a communist fortress of Red Chinese sympathizers, convinced that one day, their comrades will liberate them.
the 'Raiders Camp' above Queen's ruins is a force to be reckoned with, they are even in the posession of a working prewar Humvee!
'Broadway & Timesquare' are now the center of town, really. Enjoying working electricity, think of it as a smaller New Vegas, filled with theater and casino joints. If you're looking for vice and leisure, you've come to the right place.
'Governor' based on Governor Island is a settlement with a clinic, a research center owned by a mysterious doctor who rarely leaves the island... Then again, most people who go there never come back.
The rest of this world is not worth mentioning or will be added to, by the power of YOUR imagination. (Which I hope will remain within reason). Remember that all of you have a 'pipboy' which can be used for all sorts of handy things. a Map, Radio, Healthstatus, Date, Inventory Measurement... Is there anything that thing can't do? On the other hand, it is completely up to you on how you will proceed in this hostile wasteland.
1. The date is 2277
2. The Races you can be: Human,Ghoul, Android, Beastlord, Dwarf but not Supermutant.
3. You can have a pet, domesticated Molrat or Dog, choice is yours.
4. Don't get too many characters
5. Don't be OP
6. VATS is disabled
7. Guns and Gun wounds work like real life. You cannot survive three bullets to the head...etc. Armored characters be it metal or skin obviously have the edge.
8. New Frontier, New Characters... I count on you people to interact with our self-made NPCs. They don't need a backstory per sé.
9. Any body of water outside Central Park is irradiated and deadly.
10. No random Teleportation, however the Metro lines (the big M's on the map) serve as fast travel points.
11. You can be any faction that already exists but also create a new one. But if you do, make it credible. We don't need a billion 'new orders' and 'secret societies'.
Existing nationwide factions: The Brotherhood of Steel and The Enclave. No NCR here! (obviously)
"Negative." Rook replied. "Defeat is not a possible outcome." He considered for a moment, glancing around. "Garry- shoot that corner." He pointed to a top corner of the elevator, behind which, he assumed, a break sat, holding the lift in place. The plasma should melt both, disabling the machinery.
Rook wrapped himself around Morgan and tucked her into his embrace, ready to asorb the shock of the eventual fall. If his calculations had been correct, the remaining breaks should just be enough to lighten their fall so that it wouldn't be deadly. Rook couldn't be sure though, he didn't know how far they had to go. He took a gamble in way.
Rook jarred at the fall, tightening his hold on Morgan, until everything stilled. Upon the crash, his circuits went haywire as the force was exerted through them, blurring his vision and scrambling his thoughts.
Finally, he got a hold of reality.
"Check for injuries." He instructed, hesitantly leaning away from Morgan so that she could.
The hangar was dimly lit by ground panel lights. The faint echoing of steam exhausts filled the large cylinder-like room, it felt rather calm compared to what was happening. Sadly, the doors all the way above them seemed closed shut. No Vertibird could launch without remaining trapped in this hangar.
"Get rappelling equipment and smoke grenades!" Governor barked at his entourage of enclave security personal as he saw the intruders climb out of the wreckage down below.
"And override the locks on the vertibird hangar. We must not let them escape!"
Gas canisters where flung down the elevator shaft from above. When they landed, it took a few seconds before the tear gas actually activated. Which then proceeded by filling the elevator, shaft and general entrance with a thick cloud of smoke.
"Wh-what? No! Rook that's too risky..." Morgan pleaded. "Y-you can't even walk!"
"I have a plan. Hide. Quickly." Without another word, the gas canisters making up everyone's mind, Rook hobbled to towards a vertibird. It was a mix of scrambling across the floor with his hands whenever he lost his balance, and limping ackwardly, but he managed.
Morgan nodded, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the burning of the tear gas. It still stung like hell, of course, but stumbling blindly with Garry to a hiding spot was less painful than keeping her eyes open.
Rook scrambled into a vertibird, the simple steel door no match for his strength. He yanked himself into a pilot's seat and poured over the controls.
They weren't they difficult.
Besides, he had no intention of flying. He began pressing buttons, and activated the payload, so that it would fire, however, he did not open the bomb-bay doors or fire the missiles, instead choosing to jam both mechanisms. He was simply going to blow it all in place.
Rook then climbed out of the vertibird, 'dashing' to find some cover himself.
If the plan rolled over right, the Enclave would simply think they'd been killed by their own stupidity, incinerated by the blast, and Morgan, Garry, and Rook could sneak out the back.
And perhaps the explosion would take out a few other vertibirds with it, making everyone happy.
There was a loud clunk from the vertibird in question, a second thereafter, a huge fireball emerged with an explosion of a powerful magnitude. Scraps of metal were flung all around the hangar, hitting other vertibirds which in few cases damaged them. A propeller blade flew away from the blast, lodging itself in the wall just above Garry's head. The metal blade still vibrated a bit.
The blast caused the ground on above to tremble slightly.
"What was that?" Governor demanded.
On the other hand, Soldiers in Power armor were ready to rappel down into the shaft. The gas covering as a smokescreen.
Garry quickly rose to his feet, gently placing Morgan back down as he quickly rushed across to Rook, in a similar crouch. Rook was lucky that Garry was one of the few Slavers from Paradise, who could count to five.
"You're okay, I have you." Rook whispered to his partner. He knew he should not speak, but he could not help it. It was an... impulse.
Inside the box, Rook hefted Morgan into one arm. holding her small form tightly to his chest before reaching up and pulling himself through the hole in the lift's ceiling. He realized halfway through that he wasn't going to make it, and decidely pushed Morgan through first, before using both arms to yank himself up, unto the roof.
He collapsed onto his rear with with a quiet thunk not looking his best.
"But I will not be able to remove either of my hands from the grapple until you two are off of me. That means we have to get to the top of the shaft with you covering us all the way up.
Quickly now. They will have cleared the room in less than three minutes. Then they will take a minute to report back, hold position for a bit, before returning to the shaft. We want to be away from here before they check on their grapples. Climb onto my back Morgan. Garry, you hold onto my front." Rook instructed as he rose to his feet, and took a hold of one of the grapples.
WIth both humans holding onto him Rook began the climb. When his feet completely left the ground, it was easy to see he buckling underneath the combined weight. A person would be groaning in strain right now, but Rook was completely stoic, even though it was easily to tell from the tightness of his body that every bit of him was working to make the climb.
Rook was unable to reply, feeling like his voice module was being crushed. He contined to climb up, adding extra tension by wrapping an ankle in the cord and one of his wrists, letting him slide up the grapple smoothly and effectively as he climbed.
"I surely hope it doesn't involve me getting shot, because then I drop this"
He held an EMP grenade up.
"Shoot me, I drop this, this drops, you short-circuit, you short-circuit, your companions made out of real flesh and blood will have nothing to save themselves from a particularly nasty drop.. Understood?"
"Heather, do you want to find your boyfreind dead, do you want them to be dead, shots in there body? If you don't want Gary to die, then we have to go and save them, they are suppossed to be back by now!" Gabriel snapped. He stood and punched the wall in anger, and then after by the sound of Whiskers snorting.
"You would have to cook it first, Governor. The time between that falls and it explodes are not great enough for it detonate near me. It will have passed my position by several metres." Rook informed him. "And of course, if you activate that grenade, my companion will shoot you."
"I would not give it up for anything else." He agreed, holding her tightly. The guards were shuffling around in the background, probably getting something ready. They were pretty mch apprehended now, so guessed they saw no need to assign more than, say, seven guards to point high-tec rifles at their heads.
Gabriel looked around. He sighed, starting to get worried. "Morgan, morgan where are you?!" Gabriel shouted, but not super loud. Whiskers looked around, trying to smell there scent, but couldn't find nothing.
"Gabriel, don't! Shouting will get us caught!" Heather hissed, however, it seemed that it was too late as she looked up, the group came face to face with a scientist in a similar hazard suit to Garry and Rook's.
Whoever it was simply stood staring at them, not even flinching in response as she eyed them up and down before turning her attention to them.
"Why should I stop? You have patients that are totured, your sick Govenor is killing anybody, and that gives you a permisssion to go? No it doesn't, so I will keep my knife in my hand, and not do anythinng if yolu leave and quit, if you do something at all to me, and try to take me in your going to be lunch to my little Whiskers, now think about what I said." Gabriel ordered.
"Gabriel... Her pistol could vaporize 'Whiskers' in one shot..." Heather pointed out, slowly raising her weapon and training it on the scieintist.
"Look, we don't want trouble, we just want to find our friends..."
"Yeah, the Redhead, the robot and the one with the foul mouth?" The Scientist asked, still keeping her pistol trained on them.
"Look, I can help you get to them, I can even take you there but I can't if you're at my damn throat. I want to help you, as much as it's screwing my mission but I'm not going to risk my life and my mission for two people who keep threatning to turn me into molerat shit is that understood?"
Rook locked onto Morgan's screaming voice, stopping his struggling. His voice cleared, and he began to take in the numbers he was facing. He waited until they had passed back into the lab, before taking action.
Override command: pacify hostiles with "weapons free."
Rook glanced over at the soldier on his left. The man lasted about five seconds after glance, until Rook kicked his knee out, the exoskeleton joint groaning as he took the blow, and causing the soldier to collapse, right into Rook's arms. The android seized the man's helmet and snapped his neck.
Before the soldiers could drop Rook, the android used the one on his right to shove himself to his feet and into a wall for support. He pulled the shotgun from his waistband and aimed it over the soldier's heads, at the Deathclaw tank. The world froze, as the men watched the android line up his shot to free one of the deadlist creatures on the face of the earth. Then he fired.
Using the alarm as a distraction, the Scientist pressed her laser pistol against the back of a soldier's neck before pulling the trigger, sending a fiery hot laser through his neck and bursting out of his throat, causing him to stagger from side to side before falling to the ground.
She then turned to the second soldier and fired several shots into his armoured face plate, until he dropped to the floor.
Rook heard the hulking steps of the Deathclaw as it came after him.
Why though, was the question. Rook did not emit any scents for a creature to pick up, and reptiles relied on that primarily. Regardless, he had some training in dealing with Deathclaws, although it would be difficult with his busted knee. He scanned for some where to escape to.
He glanced up.
He was too heavy to climb into the ceiling tiles from here, but if he could find a way to displace his weight if only for an instant...
As he passed the elevator, he glanced sideways at it, before dangling off the ledge, and then dropping into the strut that was paralell to the floor, so that he was out of sight. To be spotted, one would have to stick there head down the shaft and look for them, and that of course would warrant them losing it.
Rook listened, not growing anymore concerned as the Deathclaw drew near, just overhead. He remained still, pressed flat against the wall of the shaft, until the beast lost interest. He only moved when the sounds of it's own movement fading.
He climbed around the outside of the shaft to the far sturt, and then clambered up, into the maintenance portion at the very top of the shaft. He moved across, still gripping the walls, his injured leg dangling below him, until he reached a grate, that led into the airducts. Rook obviously wouldn't fit, so he instead kicked out the dryway to the grates right, and then scurried through the hole like a mouse. Now above the ceiling tiles, he went prone, and began to army crawl in the direction he saw Morgan had gone.
It didn't take long before Rook got suddenly blasted out of the airvents. The noise his cawling made gave him away quite clearly. Now lying on his chest his nose almost touched the boots of Colonel Governor.
He had a special gun trained on him.
Before the android could make things worse the colonel bent foward and shot him in the neck. A little transparent capsule stuck out of his jugular, after it had drilled itself into his 'bloodstream' the capsule released the fluid it was holding, which apparently was a sort of liquid chip that overrode his programming.
Rook twitched, facial muscles spasming as the chip did it's work, and his body went rigid. The process took a total of maybe seven seconds, before the android shoved himself to his feet. He glanced around, his vision flickering as it changed IFF tags and incorporated the new data from the Enclave's network.
Enclave AI programming, most possibly based on the ZAX series of articial intelligence, over rid personality, databases, and function. For all intents and purposes, Rook belonged to the United States of America.
"Reporting for duty, sir." Rook said to the governor in a flat voice, then saluted, under the impression he was a special forces operative. That was, of couse, at the base of things, his function.
Governor got out his pocket knife and violently tore off Rook's face, until only the gaunt exoskeleton's skull remained. It had taken more than 'one' pull. But it was worth it, removing all sense of personality from this android, on a superficial level.
"No, you wouldn't have survived. I know you wouldn't, and I don't want to lose another person close to me!" Gabriel shouted. He started to tear up, and gave Morgan a big hug, putting his head deep into her shoulder.
Governor tracked the beast down into the lonesome corridors.
His face had gone from cool and calculated to bloodshot and almost 'plain evil'.
He followed the trail of water and blood.
Until it tracked the beast down, gorging on some poor soul. It noticed almost immediatly that it was being watched and snarled at the colonel.
Who stuck out his remote from across the corridor and pressed the button. The beast's beany little eyes widened for a split second before it got a shock of 100.000 volts right into its brain. Frying it instantly. The beast tumbled down lifelessly on the corpse it had just been feasting on.
Governor sighed, but not for the loss of his men, but for the loss of another weapon. Still... He had a new toy to play with now.
Rook had interesting data files. He suddenly had a textbook of U.S history, but found himself most interested in the military aspect of it.
He had other memories, memories of him, but they did not interface well with his new ones, so he pushed them aside, hiding them in the darkest recesses of his mind.
He taught himself U.S military combat operations, tactics, and strategies in the blink of an eye, and then went on to develop himself.
I have a name.... no... I need a name.
He did a quick scan for the most American one. It was easy in his exspansive database, he simply selected the most common first and surname.
John Smith. Is that who I am? Who am I?
I have an identity... I am someone... no... I need an identity.
He was a soldier of the special branch for the Enclave Armed Forces, formerly the Delta Squad of the United States Military. Yes... that sounded right.
Airman John Smith.
Rook reached up and touched what remained of his face. The skin abruptly ended at the sides of his cheek bones, leaving him featureless. He prodded the skeletal structure of his nose, the metal of his chin.
Not worried by it, just curious.
He stood to attention when the Governor strode in. "Airman John Smith awaiting orders, sir." Rook said, already utterly convinced of who and what he was.
Gabriel turned aorund and saw Morgan with tears in her eyes. "Morgan, come on, let's go tell everybody to look for Rook, we might as well do it seeing how scared you are." Gabriel said. Whiskers licked her leg, trying to make her feel better.
"If it makes you feel any better, most of the soldiers are very inexperienced. I doubt that any of them have faced anything half as capable as Rook before." Scribe Eastwood assured her as they finally reached the bottom of the stairs.
"Just... Don't worry until we know that something's wrong, okay? So far, everything's going according to plan, all that Rook has to do is make it outside and then we're golden and from what I've seen of you four, that shouldn't be a problem."
"Really? Huh... The Brotherhood were interested in it as well, trust me, there was a lotof data, most of it wouldn't make any sense to anyone who didn't know waht to look for." The Scribe replied, looking around to make sure that they weren't being followed.
"I'd love it, if it wasn't a device to enslave everyone."
"Well, it is the tallest building in the world, I don't think that blowing it up would be easy, even for the Brotherhood. You'd need a pretty big bang to do it..." The Scribe replied, keeping her attention forward.
Rook was fastened into the machine, which he just looked curiously at, not really suspicious of anything. The lasers came first. The peeled back the surface of his skin, so that it became a raw red. Rook, once again, did not show he felt anything. The Enclave 'reboot' had made destroyed any progress he'd made in the way of actually feeling pain. They installed the simple thing's first, integrating them straight into his hide. They ruthlessly drilled a hole into his chest, so that they could get to the endoskeleton, and implanted an auto-repair system. Minor upgrades came next, before they finally got to the good stuff.
First, they reinforced his joints, putting extra motorized powerings over his elbows and knees. Untop of that, they installed the flexible armor plating, first in a thin under layer, simply bolting it straight to the rended flesh. They concealed weapons came next- a protonic blade that rested on top of his left wrist, and extended outwards; and a series laser weapon minaturized so that they could fire from several different locations on his body. All this was covered with the next layer of armor, just as flexible, but denser, and heavier. It suctioned with an airtight seal to the first layer, and would probide enormous protection against most small rounds but, and was resistant laser and plasma discharges. But, most importantly, it had a built-in system that disrupted and redirected EMPs, severly reducing their effectiveness in scrambling Rook's systems.
A ballistic fist that fired high-density sniper rounds instead of those from a 12 guage shotgun was installed onto his right forearm, and mounted launchers had been ingrained into the shoulders of his armor that fired mirco-missiles. As if that wasn't enough, a 20mm M61 Vulcan Minigun had been mounted onto the top of his back. Steel bars rested over his spine and shoulder blades that had several more bars spiderwebbing between them to support the weapon that would fire over the top of his left shoulder.
The helmet came last, a shapless thing with a visor that improved his targetting systems, removing the need for scopes or sights for his weapons. He was given a M21 sniper rifle (standard issue for the U.S Army) for hardware along with a 12.7 millimeter submachine gun.
With all weapons installed and equipped, he was released from the machine, and put through trial phases to test out his new gear. But, other than that, it was safe to say that Rook was now a killing machine, if he ever wasn't.
Rook lifted his arm and examined it for a moment, like he was unsure how to fire it. The control over the majority of his weapons had been directed to his brain, so it would be like flexing an new muscle.
There was a long pause before the first shot rang out- a clean hit through the center of the first target. After that, the targets didn't stand a chance.
The engineer looked on as the Battle-Android used his new arsenal flawlessly.
After a few more tests, Rook was deemed fit for active service. Little Enclave symbols adorned almost every part of his new body. As if it weren't obvious already.
"Report to Colonel Governor. He wishes to speak to you."
Rook did as he was told and marched himself to the colonel. He drew stares and looks of awe as he passed, but no one was surprised. It was obviously big news that they had captured an Android. He found the Governor's office and knocked on the door without much ado.
"At ease, soldier." Governor said. Trying to keep a devilish grin hidden.
The office looked neat and classic, a big contrast against all the grey and dark metal. Most of it had already been there from before the great war. Governor seemed to feel quite at home in this basement, after all... Governor Island used to be a US Military Fort once.
It was probably obvious at this point that Governor was not his real name.
"It seems the boys in the lab have patched you up with quite some skill." The Colonel complimented.
"Sir, yes, sir." Agreed Rook. The helmet gave his voice a metallic, robotic tinge, similar to how one would speak through a power armor helmet. "I'm cocked, locked, and ready to rock, sir." He said with enthusaism. Perhaps the only good the Colonel's 'update' did for him was make him sound like an actual human.
Eastwood lead the four of them out into the courtyard, heading straight for the docking bay. She didn't know if there would be a boat waiting but she had checked the schedule and hadn't seen any booked for today.
They just had to avoid the search lights...
"Urgh... Would've been better if you were all in disguises..."
The group sat in silence as they waited for the Android, several moments passed as the reality slowly began to sink in.
The Scribe glanced up to Morgan, who's gaze was fixed on the main door to the complex, eager to see if Rook was going to make it.
In truth, Eastwood did want to save Rook, an Android was a technilogical marvel and the Brotherhood could learn so much from their software and hardware, it was just a shame that the people who made them were such dicks...
Heather decided to take a seat by Morgan's side, observing the loading bay with her as she awaited his return, with a great deal of anticipation.
She slowly looked over to Morgan, trying to keep a brave face, even though she was starting to lose hope.
"Well, he does treat combat very seriously... Maybe he's just gotten carried away, shooting Uncave." Heather shrugged, knowing next to nothing about the Enclave, other than their names that were mentioned a few moments ago.
"Morgan... I'm sorry, I really am but the longer we're out here, the longer we're just waitin' for them to find us. If Rook... Hasn't made it, then he'd want you to get out." The Former Slaver said as tactfully as possible.
The figure drew closer, finally gaining a distinct shape. The mounted machine gun. The sniper slung over it's shoulder. The blank visor built into the intimidating helmet. The thin but sturdy armor covering a powerful body.
"You got a lot farther than you should've," the android taunted, "but then... you haven't met Airman John Smith either. Your ride's over, denegerates. I want you all to give yourselves up. Easier that way." I don't have to waste a bullet. He'd finish this with his blade.
Gabriel glared at the robot. "You come back to reality, your Rook, the android who is on our sie, not Governors, do you remember your own name, it is Rook." Gabriel said. Whsikers snorted at the ndroid, and he was ready to attack
"Bitch!" Snarled Rook, holding up his arm to asorb the slow moving bolt. He brought his submachine gun to waist level and opened fire on the group. "Just like you to try a trick like that! But it won't work... nothing will!"
Rook moved sideways, running as he fired to avoid Eastwood getting directly shots. The resistance of his armor was flawless, dispelling and asorbing the heat of the plasma. It hardened and heated up briefly when it asorbed the bolt, but without sustaining direct hits to the same spot, it held up well. He singled Eastwood out as his primary target and lined up his submachine gun at her, letting off a stream of continuous fire.
Gabriel's knife bounced off the armor plating. Rook tore Gabriel off his back like he was doll and threw the boy onto the ground with force, before raising his boot over the boy's head to crush it, still firing at Eastwood, trying to force the scribe into cover.
Rook stumbled from the shotgun blast. It was ballistic resistant armor, and the sharpnel embedded itself in his metal armour.
Rook covered, turned his attention to Garry, and was about to blow his head off, when Gabriel became suicidal.
The knife was still ineffective. It was appear it was not dense or strong enough to make a cut. Rook easily caught Gabriel by the the throat, being much faster and stronger than the thirteen year old, and squeezed, beginning the process of crushing his trachea. Gabe did, however, bring the heat off Eastwood.
Whilst Gabriel was being strangled, Scribe Eastwood reloaded her plasma rifle and rose to her feet, blasting him repeatedly with half a clip of hot plasma, aiming for his chest and head, whilst Garry took a shot at him with his hunting rifle, aiming for the Android's eyes.
There was a loud bang, and a clatter as Morgan fired her weapon from the boat. With rather incredible accuracy, a harpoon arced over the field of battle, heading straight for Rooks head. "Gabe! Get in the boat!" She ordered, gesturing at everyone to get the fuck on the boat.
Gabriel gasped, and had a hard time breathing for a minute, before getting up and tending to Whiskers. Gabriel tried to pick up Whiskers, and tried to hide. Gabriel went very slowly, and dropped Whiskres to the ground. Gabriel then started to take deep breaths, having a few times of not breathing aand then started to work on Whiskers leg. Whiskers made a loud shriek, but stopped trying to fight against Gabriel. Gabriel then looked at Rook, givving him a glare.
Gabriel picked up Whiskers and tried to go for the boat, using his strength. Finally Gabriel got there and went in, and then tended back to Whiskers, and started to cry.
The harpoon hit Rook's helmet, just as the bolt hit his knee. The force of the blast tripped him onto one knee and the harpoon glanced off his helmet with disorienting force, actually rendering him vulnerable.
The hunting rifle, developed to kill large game, slammed into Rook's helmet at over 3400 fps, point-blank range. There was a resounding clang, like someone hitting a gong. Rook crumpled onto his back, his machinery scrambled from the force of the blow. The effect was similar to dropping a computer on the ground.
"Right, we all here? Good! We're fucking leaving!" Morgan rallied, grabbing the ships wheel and gently easing it out. She'd never steered a ship before, and the sweat from the heat of the constant plasma dripped into her eyes.
"Would have been easier to leave him! I really need time to work out how to fix him!"