Chapter Text

The steady, muffled thud of power armor boots trudging through dirt faded into a solid steel clung with each of Chloe's footfalls as she stepped onto the back of the truck, which dipped perceptibly at the sudden increase in weight. Max followed behind, watching Chloe walk carefully along before she reached a metal rack strung with thick straps, situated near the back.

“You're good,” Max called, and Chloe stopped, a soft hiss sounding as the back of the armor opened up. Max took a moment to appreciate the sight of Chloe's butt as she stepped out, glad that she could do so openly and just be called a pervy girlfriend. Because that's what she was now. She was Chloe's girlfriend, and Chloe was hers. All hers.

“Max, wanna help me strap this thing in?” Chloe said, turning around and snickering. “What's with the goofy smile. Staring at my butt?”

“Maybe,” Max said with a defensive frown. “I'm just...happy.”

Chloe smirked at her, advancing slowly before wrapping her arms around Max and dipping in for a kiss. A soft hum of delight escaped Max as she gently ran her hands along her newly-christened girlfriend's arms.

Why did even thinking the word make her want to just giggle like a little girl?

“You're just too fucking precious,” Chloe said, gently pressing her forehead against Max's. “C'mon, we need to strap this thing in, though. We can get into a hardcore makeout on the road.”

The two of them set about the ponderous task of hitching the power armor that Preston had so generously agreed to loan them to the inside of the military truck they would be using to deliver arms and armor to Tenpines Bluff. The supplies themselves were crated up and stacked floor to ceiling in the truck's bed, ready to be used to chase off raider scum once they got there.

All that was left was to get moving.

“Alright,” Preston said as the two of them climbed down the ramp from the back of the truck. It was the gray of pre-dawn, the morning still cool and quiet. Most everyone else in New Concord was asleep, only Warren and Preston there to see them off. “We've packed you enough arms to equip a small army, enough fuel to get you to Stadium City and back, and you have the power armor.”

“There's no way we're fucking this up,” Chloe said confidently, folding her arms over her chest.

“Don't get overconfident,” Preston cautioned her. “A positive attitude can serve you well, but make sure you're on your guard. The frontier is a dangerous place. I don't doubt that you'll run into a few scrapes before you even get to Tenpines Bluff.”

“We'll be careful,” Rachel assured him. Behind them, the metallic clank of Warren retracting the ramp into the truck echoed into the still morning. He pulled the rear hatch down before dusting his hands off and moving to join them.

“Most of the stuff is latched down good, and anything that does shift around won't be too worse off for it,” he told them, turning to regard them while latching a padlock on the door. “I just wouldn't recommend going off-roading if I were you.”

“Why you gotta take all the fun out of it?” Chloe said with a roll of her eyes, and Max giggled softly.

“Good luck out there,” Warren said. “If you can, try not to break the power armor. I know you need it, but you're still technically borrowing it.”

“I'll make sure it comes back here, at least,” Chloe winked at him. “You might have to fix it up.”

“Well, that's what it was designed for, I guess,” Warren admitted with a rueful smile. “You guys just be careful. If you total the armor but all come back alive, it's worth it.”

“Thanks for your help, Warren,” Max said. “If I see any really cool tech, I'll be sure to bring it back for you.”

“Yeah, but...just make sure you guys come back,” Warren told her with a small smile, and Max felt herself smile right back. Warren was a bit like a puppy, she had realized. He was just pure and innocent. Even his crush on Max (which was hilariously obvious) was too sweet to begrudge, Chloe only citing him as “a wannabe romantic rival”.

“Alright, let's load up,” Chloe said, taking Max's hand before heading for the cab of the deuce-and-a-half and tugging the door open. She made a show of helping Max up into the high seats, Max's face heating up as Chloe's palm snagged a few more gropes than was entirely necessary to help her.

She wasn't the only pervert in this relationship.

Max took up the middle of the long bench seat in the cab of the truck, fastening her seatbelt as Chloe climbed up next to her in the driver's seat and Rachel joined her on her other side. Two doors slammed shut, and Chloe stuck the key into the ignition, twisting it and igniting the engine with a low rattle that sounded almost too loud in the morning quiet.

“Alright, so I haven't driven in like...”

“Two hundred years?” Rachel said wryly, and Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Technically,” she admitted, reaching down to shift into drive. The truck lurched forward, and Chloe gently tapped the accelerator, the engine humming as the truck surged forward and on down the road to their first adventure.

…...

Warren Graham hated to use the word “genius” to describe himself. He was certainly better with computers than the average Commonwealth resident, but that was hardly a tall claim; computers and technology just weren't something most people worried about, not nowadays, not out in frontier lands. But that meant that when someone like him came along, someone who could actually build a terminal or program a turret, he was labeled a genius.

And, today especially, he certainly felt the part.

“Powering on,” the generic female voice of the Nurse Handy bot spoke, accompanied by a cacophonous metal scraping sound as the construct's three arms dragged along the floor of Warren's workshop during liftoff. The thruster in the center sputtered once before holding Lisa steady a few feet off the ground, and Warren took a moment to pat himself on the back. He'd done it; he'd cobbled together a bunch of scrap parts into a working Handy frame. Several places bore improvised armor plating, and others were bare completely until Warren could piece together workable parts. There hadn't been much of the factory plate left on Lisa, but he'd restored and shined up what he could. At least all three eyes were working (though one had had to be improvised in the form of a re-purposed security camera), and she had functioning weapons systems...of a sort.

“Diagnostic complete,” the robot spoke. “Aftermarket modifications detected. Please be advised that your warranty is now void.”

“Load AI core,” Warren said.

“AI core detected. Loading.... Warren?” Lisa spoke in a much more human-sounding voice. “Is that you?”

“How do you feel, Lisa?” Warren asked the robot.

“Much more like my old self, thank you, “Lisa said, her outer eyes dipping while the center one rose a bit. She paused, or it seemed so to Warren, her arms giving a small twitch. “Did you install weapons systems on my arms?”

“Your old tools were busted to shit, so I did what I could,” Warren said sheepishly. “You have a laser gun, a flamethrower, and a high-powered carbine I rigged up. I was...actually hoping you could be my bodyguard.”

“I am programmed to follow the Three Laws of Robotics, so it's in my nature to protect human lives,” Lisa said. “However, I feel you may have something different in mind.”

“Well, you know that vault up in Sanctuary Hills?” Warren asked with a vague gesture in the direction of the housing community.

“I know of it,” Lisa said. “I recently recovered the bodies of my former owners from the vault and gave them a proper burial, along with the rest of the inhabitants.”

“Yeah, I...I heard about what happened, with the cryogenic freezing and...all that,” Warren said with a feeble smile. “I'm...sorry about your loss.”

“It is...alright,” Lisa said after a short pause, sounding as unsure as Warren was about the whole matter. Human emotions were neither of their strong suits. “Human mortality is something I was programmed to understand, though I have some difficulty reconciling it with my...my family.”

“No one wants to see their family or loved ones die,” Warren said with a shrug. “I mean, my parents.... We've all dealt with it, so if you need to talk about it, I'm here.”

“Thank you, Warren,” Lisa said, her eyes shifting in the same manner as before. Warren wondered if it was her way of smiling. “However, you were asking about the vault?”

“Oh, right,” Warren said, nodding. “Do you think you could help me get into it?”

…...

Deep within the bowels of every vault, well out of reach of the civilian residents, there was a Vault-Tec VTCR-m3001 nuclear fusion reactor, the pinnacle of Pre-War industrial power. Boasting a lifespan of a thousand years on a single charge, the only reason it hadn't been put into use in a bid to solve the energy crisis had been Vault-Tec's proprietary ownership of it and general aversion to forward thinking that didn't involve their vaults. Every vault Warren knew of (and he was something of an enthusiast) was equipped with at least one, and to know that one was so close, right up in Sanctuary Hills, was probably the luckiest development in weeks, months even.

He just needed to get to it. And for that, he needed protection.

“Are you gonna be okay in here?” Warren asked Lisa, needing to raise his voice to be heard over the deafening clanging of the lift as it settled at the bottom of the massive elevator shaft that led into the vault proper. “If you wanna just wait by the door....”

“Your odds of survival will diminish greatly the more distance is put between us,” Lisa said, spinning slightly on her axis to fix her leftmost eye on Warren. “I...will be alright. Your concern is appreciated, however. You are a good friend, Warren.”

“I try,” Warren said with a bashful shrug. He stepped from the metal platform onto the ancient stone floor of the cave, a strange feeling washing over him. Two hundred years ago, Max Caulfield and her two friends had come to this place seeking shelter from nuclear annihilation, only to be cryogenically frozen for two centuries in yet another demented Vault-Tec experiment. Warren had read up on the shadowy corporation in one of the libraries in Stadium City and found himself horrified that the corporation he had once idolized for saving so many people had only done so as a means of conducting their insane social experiments.

Warren had lost a lot of respect for Vault-Tec that day.

Still, it really eased any guilt he felt about the prospect of dismantling this place and converting into a power station. He crossed the metal bridge that led into the vault itself, taking in the sight of the blinking lights and listening to the distant grating alarm. The actual generator was likely still functioning at full capacity, but after such a long time, some of the wiring was likely gunked up to the point of simply not working, or it had been gnawed away by roaches and rats. Warren could probably scavenge enough wire to rig up a line that led to the surface, and from there, it would be a matter of constructing power poles and running lines down to Concord. It would be a chore, but it would be worth it; vault fusion reactors put out enough power to run...well, a vault, and those things were definitely not energy efficient. All of that output directed at a settlement, well...Concord would certainly flourish.

“So, which way do you think – “

“Wait a moment,” Lisa said, and her voice was low, her approximation of a whisper. “My proximity sensors are picking up movement. And I'm detecting electrical signatures.”

Warren fell silent, glancing around and hurrying to duck behind some ancient plastic crates. He had a weapon, a small laser pistol that he had practiced with once. He was glad he'd brought it with him; he'd considered leaving it behind, because honestly, what kind of trouble would a person run into in an abandoned vault this far into the frontier?

Apparently, a small bit.

Lisa drifted over next to him, a soft whirring sound coming from inside her shell.

“There are three mechanicals,” she said. “The signature is unlike any in my databanks. Whatever it is was designed and created after the Great War.”

“Could be salvage bots,” Warren said in a low voice. “There's a company in Stadium City that makes them. Usually there's a supervisor, like a person, along with them, though.”

“There are no life signs except for yours,” Lisa told him. “If you wish to continue, we may, but we must proceed with caution.”

“We have to continue,” Warren said. “Concord can't keep burning through generators. We need a stable power source.”

“Then allow me to lead the way,” Lisa said. “It's much easier to repair me than it would be to fix you up.”

“Fair point,” Warren admitted. “But if we do need to rabbit, I'm not leaving you behind.”

“...Understood,” Lisa said after a short pause. “Let's move on.”

They crept down the hallway that led toward the elevator, moving by the windows through which the massive cryogenic pods were visible. Warren felt a shiver as he observed them, imagining the vault empty and decrepit as it was but filled with corpses stuffed into industrial refrigerators. And then Max and her friends, alone among them, still kept alive by a fluke of the generator. To be frozen like that, with no idea what was happening, and wake up two hundred years later with only an apocalyptic Boston Commonwealth to greet you.... No wonder being around Max was so unnerving sometimes. No wonder she seemed to put off this vibe, this intense aura of calm that seemed to be hiding a maelstrom of emotion.

Warren would be a little emotional, too, dealing with something like this.

As he peered at the tanks, imagining being stuck in one for two hundred years, he jolted when saw a pair of yellow eyes peek out from behind one, glowing brightly in the dim, clinical lights of the vault.

“Shit!” he whispered, ducking down. “Lisa, something's – “

“Yes, I have detected it as well,” Lisa said. “I am also detecting several unusual radio signatures, and more of the same presences. It appears they're somehow teleporting more of the robots in here.”

“You don't call for reinforcements unless you're expecting a fight,” Warren said, clutching at his laser pistol. “Lisa, we need to get out of – “

“Hello,” a garbled, synthetic voice said, and Warren jumped, standing and staring down the hallway in the direction they'd come. Two strange robots were standing at the end, just inside the small entrance area. At first glance, Warren thought they looked like the plastic anatomy models in some doctors' offices, given spindly arms and legs and a basic robotic endoskeleton. Two sets of glowing yellow eyes peered at him through the darkness, and Warren saw that they were carrying bulky plastic-looking laser weapons of their own, a rifle and a pistol at first glance.

“Your attempts at stealth were unsuccessful,” the other robot said. “Commencing termination.”

They raised their weapons, and with a rush of exhaust, Lisa was in front of Warren, leveling her carbine at them.

Koom!

The sound echoed deafeningly in the confines of the vault, and the robot with the rifle lurched backward, his gun dropping to the ground as his right arm flew off. Not waiting for her gun to reload, Lisa simply shifted to the arm with the laser gun, unleashing a burst of automatic fire that lit the hallway with a red glow to compliment the dim blue cast by the robot man's weapon. Huddling behind Lisa, Warren saw a shift of movement in the hallway behind them. The humanoid that he had seen earlier had emerged into the hallway.

“Greetings,” it said, leveling another laser rifle at him. Behind him, Warren could hear Lisa still dispatching the first two robots, so he raised his own pistol and fired it.

Tsoom, tsoom, tsoom!

The first shot missed blindly over the robot's left shoulder, but Warren corrected the second two, which connected with the bot's neck and shoulder as he popped off a few shots. Warren saw one glance right past his face, nearly blinding him with how bright it was, but the other two were deflected as Lisa spun around him and put herself between the two.

Koom!

One final shot from the carbine put down the third bot, and Warren stood, wheeling around in a circle with his gun pointed outward.

“Do you see anymore?” he asked Lisa.

“I have several more notifications on my proximity sensor,” she said. “We may want to head for the elevator.”

“Let's go,” Warren said, turning and heading back toward the bridge. They would have to come back later and fight these things off, but the two of them would not be enough. Warren was under no delusions about his own fighting prowess, and Lisa was good, but her combat subroutines amounted to little more than flexible home invasion software. They would need Preston, and Max and her friends if they could get them –

Kshoom! Kshoom, kshom!

Damn it!

“Lisa, let's go!” Warren called behind him, seeing at least half a dozen of the humanoid bots making their way down the hallway beyond his companion, from somewhere deeper in the vault. Lisa paused and eyed Warren before turning to face the onslaught. “Lisa!”

“Go, Warren!” she said. “I'll hold them off and cover your escape!”

“I'm not leaving you here!” Warren said, hurrying back to her side and firing a few quick shots at the lead bot before Lisa dispatched it with her carbine. “We're going!”

“We both won't make it up to the top,” Lisa said. “Warren, you have to go. It's my duty to protect human life at all costs, including my own existence.”

“But...I just met you,” Warren said. “I fixed you.”

“It's been an honor knowing you, Warren,” Lisa said. “But you have to go. Now, before they overrun us.”

Warren stared at her for a long moment, unwilling to leave behind the first...person he'd ever really felt a connection with. Despite her cool, metal exterior, Lisa was one of the most warm and caring beings he'd ever met. How could he leave her behind?

The robots were closing in, and Warren felt frozen in place. If he stayed, he would surely die, but if he left, he was saying goodbye to his new friend. When would he ever meet someone else that was so...vibrant?

KOOOOOOOM!!

Warren jumped, and even the advancing robots paused, everyone present turning to see that a massive power-armored figure had landed in the elevator. At first, Warren thought it might be Chloe, Max's friend who had taken so naturally to the modified suit Warren had repaired, but this suit was a full set of T-60 armor, emblazoned with a logo Warren couldn't quite make out in the lighting. The armored figure stepped forward, hefting a massive laser rifle in its hands and raising it toward the cluster of robots.

“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil!” a distinctly feminine voice came from within the armor, and with a whirring sound, the massive rifle unloaded a hail of laser blasts on the assembled robots, who scattered and began to return fire, Warren and Lisa forgotten. The armored figure slung her rifle onto her back, withdrawing instead a massive hammer that glowed with what was obviously some sort of impact amplification device. She took off at a run up the steps that led into the lobby area, her armor creaking as the pneumatic movement assistance shocks flexed at her motion. She reached the top and collided with the remaining humanoids with all the effectiveness of a pissed off boulder. The whole time, she was shouting through her helmet.

“Now, shortly I pour out My fury on thee, and have completed Mine anger against thee, and judged thee according to thy ways, and set against thee all thine abominations! And I have poured on thee Mine indignation! With fire of My wrath I blow against thee! And have given thee into the hand of brutish men -- artificers of destruction!”

There wasn't a single bot left whole by the time she was done. Warren was particularly impressed at her ability to quote what had to be the Scripture while showing such a single-minded determination at the utter destruction of these things. She paused once the action was over (and in only a couple of minutes, no less), her metal shoulders heaving a bit as she recovered her breath. Warren slowly made his way over to her, holding his hands out to his sides to show a lack of harmful intent, and a soft whirring came as she rounded, peering down at him. Warren was briefly blinded as she activated some sort of floodlight attached to her armor's helmet, illuminating him in bright white light that cast long, angular shadows behind him.

“Um...hi,” Warren said, blinking at the beam of light. “I'm Warren, that's Lisa. Thanks for saving us there.”

“Oh, gosh, I hope I didn't scare you,” the female's voice came, and Warren was a little surprised at how...well, cute she sounded when she wasn't shouting Bible verses with zealous fervor. “I didn't notice you at first. I just heard there was a vault nearby, and some of my contacts reported Institute activity in the area. When they showed up on my radar, I just...dived right in.”

She reached up and popped her helmet free with a soft hissing sound, pulling it away to reveal a round, smiling face, blonde hair pulled into a tight bun at the crown of her skull.

“My name is Kate Marsh. Ex-Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel and now a wayfaring protector of the downtrodden in the name of the Lord. It's nice to meet you.”

…...

POWERING ON...COMPLETE

HNDY Type II Online

Initiating boot procedure....

SYSCHECK...All systems functioning at full capacity.

HDWCHECK...Hardware integrity nominal.

SFTWCHECK...Software verified. Initializing....

Weapons Training..............................Loaded

Triage Protocol..................................Loaded

Comprehensive Military Jargon..........Loaded

“Basic Training” Primer......................Loaded

“1LT” Patch.......................................Loaded

Asimov's Three Laws..............................ERR

Mercy For Commie Bastards............Disabled

Patriotic Fervor Module.....................Loaded

US ARMY “Mr. Gutsy” profile validated. “God Bless America”

AI core detected. Verifying compatibility....

AI core is compatible. Would you like to load? (y/n) Y

Loading AI “Rick Thundersteel”

…...

“Commie scum!” Rick blared out of his speakers as he came online, his optical stalks powering on and feeding him a view of...a small room? His memory banks had his last location as the Gobi Desert, gunning down Chinese communist bastards and securing America's freedom from the iron grip of communism. Had he been captured? He fired his thruster jet, lifting his spherical center off the ground and causing a muted scraping as his three lower arms dragged along the cement under him. His gyroscopic sensor righted him after a few moments, and he activated his sensor array.

[SCANNING...no life signs detected.]

[ALERT: New Objectives (3)]

Well, this was a fine mess. Was there a door, at least?

As he floated around in search of a door, a klaxon-like alarm sounded in the distance, and blaring lights sprang to life around him, illuminating his surroundings in harsh white.

“Sweet mother of Jesus Christ,” Rick growled.

Husks of his brethren, dozens of fellow Gutsy units, hung from the walls or sat in heaps of spare parts on tables around him. It was utter carnage, wires and circuit boards just lying out in the open, spread across tables like some sick mechanical butcher shop! Rick couldn't believe the sight of it, but there it was, right in front of his optical sensors.

“You poor devils,” Rick muttered to himself, raising one of his hanging arms in a crisp salute. “Godspeed.”

[Playing: taps.htp]

He spent a moment in somber reverence, but soon it was all business again. Wherever he was, it was bad news; he needed to get out of this place as soon as possible. He found a single door, broken clean out of its frame and lying on the ground. Floating through it, he wound up in a long hallway, also bleached of color by white light that had him activating the polarized lenses on his eye stalks. The walls here were pale blue, the floor a muted gray.

[Analyzing pigmentation...match found. Vault-Tec proprietary Cornflower #7]

[Life signs detected.]

[ALERT: New Objectives (3)]

He was in a vault, then. But how had he gotten here? He must have somehow been deactivated in combat and brought back for repairs. But to a vault? Had it been converted into an emergency robot repair station? That would explain the grisly scene back there, but the only reason that Vault-Tec would allow their vaults to be used was....

“My God....”

The Big One. The Great War. The Final Kaboom. Rick's programming included a hundred or more terms for the great big global nuclear carpet-bombing in which every nation launched every nuke they had at every other nation in one giant “fuck you, I'm taking you with me” to each other. Teams of researchers, sociologists, and generals had come together to analyze every possible outcome of the political climate of America and world and found the unthinkable. The only real ending was total nuclear annihilation. It hadn't been a matter of “if”, only “when”.

[Life signs detected.]

[ALERT: New Objectives (3)]

And the bastards had done it. They'd actually done it. Rather than allow the world to fall into commie hands, they had simply nuked it, tucked America's best and brightest away, and agreed to start anew after the fire was over. It was a mad plan, a gamble, but Rick was sure it had worked out. He was probably needed to guard the vault, ensure the protection of a cluster of generals and Cabinet members, most likely. Maybe even the president himself. Surely Rick was the perfect choice to protect such auspicious members of the United States government. Why, then, hadn't they been here to greet him?

[Life signs detected.]

[ALERT: New Objectives (3)]

“Shut the hell up!” he shouted at his alert array. Damn it, was there no way to silence that thing? He hovered along the hallway, his optical feeds taking in the sight of how worn and beat-up the vault looked as he passed rooms that seemed disused or just out of place in a vault so prestigious. What did the best and brightest of the American government need with what looked like a cluster of human-sized cages or bloodied operating tables? Had a proper triage center never been set up, or for a vault such a this, a clinic?

Something was definitely wrong here.

“Get moving!” a voice shouted further down the hallway, followed by a grunt, the sound of an impact, and a female voice yelping in pain. “Go, you goddamn bitch!”

Well, that was no way to speak to a lady....

[Life signs detected.]

[ALERT: New Objectives (4)]

[(New) Objective 4: Investigate possible commie scum.]

He jetted slowly closer, seeing three men in some sort of improvised body armor surrounding a woman who looked a little beaten, like she had been roughed up and brought here by force. As he drew near, the three men looked toward Rick with evident confusion.

“What the fuck?” one of them spoke. He had quite a few decorations on his armor, obviously some attempt at military-style medals and ribbons. The fact that most of them were human bones told Rick a lot.

“Is that the Gutsy you were working on, Hank?” another spoke, this one a Chinese from the look of it. Definitely communists, possibly a splinter cell that had lost contact with their people during the war. They had taken over the vault and were capturing honest American citizens! The poor girl looked up at Rick from their midst, eyes wide and pleading.

“Help me,” she said softly.

“Shut up!” the third man said. He was black, shaved bald but with a massive beard. He raised a hand, and the woman flinched. “Gusty unit, factory override command GST three-seven-seven. Alpha user facial recognition recall.”

[Alpha User Override attempt detected.]

[Alpha User Override option code: American citizen in evident danger. Enable override? (y/n) N]

[Objective complete: Investigate possible commie scum.]

[Relevant objective(s): Protect American citizens; Eliminate Communist scum]

“Override...overridden,” Rick said with relish, spinning his legs and quickly firing off a plasma round into each of the men.

Tsoom, tsoom, tsoom!

“Is the vault lost?” Rick asked the woman as the trio fell to the ground. “Are there more of the bastards?”

“Y-yes,” the woman said, standing on shaky legs. “They're using the vault as their base. They call themselves the Disciples of Gruumsh.”

“Gruumsh,” Rick repeated.

[Searching database.... No matches found to “Gruumsh”.]

“Never heard of him,” he said. “Are there other prisoners?”

“I'm the only one,” the woman said. “They...they said they 'ran through' the last bunch of prisoners.”

“My God,” Rick said. “Communism knows no evil too great to commit.”

“Um...the exit is up that elevator,” the woman told Rick. “Can you get me out of here, please?”

“It's my duty to protect the American people,” Rick said. “Follow me.”

He floated along the hallway adjacent to the one he'd emerged into, seeing more evidence that the vault had changed hands a considerable time ago. Rooms he passed were stacked with crates full of guns and ammunition or otherwise being used as sleeping quarters. There were a few workshops as well, similar to the ones Rick had been reconstructed in.

“What's the objective?” Rick wondered aloud. “What were they even doing here?”

“From what they told me,” the girl said as they piled into the elevator, “they seem to think they're owed the surface land. They act like it was taken from them. Their whole policy is pillage, kill, breed. And...that's the reason they only ever take female prisoners.”

“Animals,” Rick said. The elevator brought them up, up, all the way to the surface level. Rick would have to come back later and sweep the place more thoroughly, remove these commie bastards from the face of the Earth. For now, he needed to get the civilian to safety, and that meant minimal engagement. She was obviously not combat-trained, and it would do no good to drag her into a full-scale firefight.

“Hey! She's getting away!” a voice shouted as the elevator opened, revealing two more armored men. “She's get – hngh!”

His words were cut off by a bolt of plasma shot straight into his neck, a semi-automatic burst of gunfire taking out the other one. The girl let a noise of shock behind Rick as he surged forward.

“Stay close!” he said, spinning one of his eyes to keep an eye behind him while the other two watched the hallways adjoining the main one he was speeding down right now. Ahead, a large door led to the vault's entry chamber. Then they would be home free. As they pressed onward, more of the wretches spilled out of rooms on either side of the hall, attempting to waylay them, but Rick put them down with ease.

“Hey! The Gutsy's loose! Send he-ghk!”

“Stop! Alpha user over-ahk!

God, there was nothing better than the sound of commies choking on their own blood. Rick could listen to to it all day. Bastard after bastard peeked into the hallway, ran at them, or otherwise announced themselves, only to be cut down in a hail of gunfire, plasma, or a buzzsaw blade to the chest.

[Playing: eaglecry.htp]

“Tseeer!”

“God bless America!” Rick said, slamming one of his arms into one last door guard and sending him flying into a wall before he was put down by a shot of plasma. “We're getting out of here!”

The girl was still behind Rick, who sped out the main entryway of the vault, across the extended metal bridge (it was a good thing the door was already open), and out. Out into America. No matter what awaited him, it was still the greatest nation on Earth, still his home and the land he would give his every last function to defend. It might be a little beat up, but it had only been 210 years since the bombs fell. It was bound to be—what?

[Checking current date and time...November 2, 2287, 0943 EST]

“It's been two hundred goddamn years!?”



