Marcus motioned to the other men in his hunting party. Most of them were very untrained, and could barely extend the blade on a police baton, but nonetheless, they had been assigned to hunt with him. He dropped to the ground, and crawled towards a rotting log that sat between two rocks; perfect cover. The three other men followed him.

"What's our target?" Nicholas, the shortest man of the group, who also lived just across the city from Marcus, asked him.

Marcus pointed towards a molerat that stood in a clearing about one hundred feet away.

"That." He replied. He crawled to the right and stood up behind one of the rocks next to the log. The men followed his lead, and stood next to him. "Okay, Jonathan, Ajay, you see over there, the small hill?" he pointed to small rise in the ground that looked to give a clear view of the animal. They nodded in confirmation. "I need you to lay down on the mound, and fire a few feet in front of the molerat. That should make it run towards Nick and me," He turned to Nick. "We're going to shoot it. Wait for my signal," he said to Ajay and Jonathan. They crouched down and scuffled away towards the hill.

Marcus took hold of Nick's arm and dragged him over towards the rock on the left.

"Okay, Nick, you are going to do the killing. We'll have to make it quick, so that it doesn't escape." He pulled his scoped hunting rifle out of its sling and slipped a clip of ammo inside. He pulled back the bolt and cocked it, and handed it to Nick. "Rest the rifle on top of the rock for support." Nick did as he was told, and Marcus looked through the sights. Pulling away, he said to Nick, "Everything seems to be in order. When I say now, you're going to shoot. Aim for the head."

Marcus moved quickly back to the right rock, where he was in plain sight of the distracters. He nodded, and they fired. Immediately the creature began running in the opposite direction, toward Nick and Marcus. When it got to be about thirty feet away, Marcus gave Nick a thumbs-up, and Nick fired. The bullet slammed into the molerat, causing it to trip up and do a lopsided somersault, quickly skidding to a stop. Marcus ran into the clearing to check the damage.

"Ah, Nick, you hit it in the neck. It's suffering." He pulled out his .32 revolver and fired a single shot into its head. The molerat stopped moving instantly. The hunting party gathered around the creature. "Well," Marcus said, "I guess we better get started." They began to clean the animal and cut off the meat, placing it inside of several cloth bags. When they finished, they each grabbed two bags and hefted them over their shoulders, and began to walk home.

* * *

Later, they reached an impasse in the buildings.

"Looks like we're going to have to take the Metro tunnels," said Ajay with glee.

"Absolutely not." Marcus replied, "We're not going to take the chance of losing our catch to some stupid ghouls."

The argument didn't matter, however, for they heard the sound of gunshots not far away. The ran towards the source. They quickly came upon it. There was a wanderer and a Super Mutant fighting it out in a plaza between buildings. The young wanderer was fighting it out so well that none of the party even thought to intervene. After just a few more seconds of shots exchanged, a shadowy figure appeared on top of a rooftop. The wanderer took aim at the Super Mutant, oblivious to the fact that there was someone on top of the building right next to him. Before the fighter had a chance to shoot, however, the shrouded man fired a single shot at the mutant. The sound was deafening, as if it had been fired out an extremely powerful weapon, even though anyone could tell it was only a pistol. The bullet sank deep into the mutant's flesh, ripping it's head and left arm from its body.

Satisfied, the hunting party turned right around and tried to figure out a different path to take. Curious, Marcus took a last glance at the figure on the rooftop. He was standing on the ledge, looking down on the scene. He nodded at Marcus, and pointed to the west. Marcus took a quick look and saw a run-down building that appeared to be on the edge of the city. Marcus was grateful and intended to thank the savior as much as he could from his position, but that became impossible, for just he turned back, a man in a blue armored jumpsuit crept up behind the figure and slit the mystery man's throat.

Great story that has a believable character, not some guy who is an uber gunfighter who destroys everything, but a normal guy. Great job and keep up the good work

Great work, and I see that the Lone Wanderer has been added into the story too... That's very good work, I love it. :foodndrink:

Great work, Vanir. Looking forward to the next chapter.

Marcus leaned against the pole of the Rivet City drawbridge as he waited for it to extend. Well, can't blame them for taking extreme security measures, what with all the hordes of raiders flocking around here, he thought to himself as the bridge slid into place, releasing a grating sound like that of a Vault door sliding shut.

He winced as the sound dug into his ears and sliced all the way into the core of his soul. That sound brought back many unpleasant memories, the most recent, and by no contest most profound, being the death of his mother as she and Marcus had escaped from an empty, well, devoid of human life, Vault they had been attempting to escape from after an attempted raid. The memory had haunted him for many months following and led to his self induced removal from raider life.

The ex-raider shuddered and began his journey across the bridge, weighing the importance of his tasks steadily in his mind. He had two, getting ammo for his new (at least to him) Desert Eagle pistol he had found in an old military base far to the north of the DC ruins, and seeing if the doctor in Rivet City had sufficient equipment for testing for pregnancy. On one note, he wouldn't be able to use the gun if he didn't have the ammo, and that meant he wouldn't be able to protect the baby, if there was one. But on the other hand, he wouldn't need to protect the baby if there was no baby to begin with. I can at least still use the Eagle even if Katrina isn't pregnant, and it isn't like I won't get to do both anyway, he thought, deciding upon visiting the marketplace first.

He nodded curtly to the security guard leaning against the side of the boat, noticing with unease that the guard's eyes widened and his mouth twisted into a frown as he realized who Marcus was. Marcus quickened his pace and swiftly opened the market door, sliding in with an unlikely grace that unfortunately led to him landing awkwardly on the top step. He attempted to shift his weight backwards, but to no avail; he fell headlong down the steps and slammed his face on the wet metal floor. He waited for a few seconds for someone to help him. No one came, and so he rose to his feet with some difficulty; he was a little dizzy. He gazed at an odd angle into a puddle of water to his right, inspecting his reflection. Despite the throbbing pain in his right cheek, he had escaped injury, except for a bottle cap size bruise forming along his right jaw line.

Marcus glanced around and noticed uncomfortably that a number of people were glaring at him, most noticeably Harkness, head of security. Harkness walked slowly over to Marcus, emphasizing his authority in his swaggering steps. Marcus fidgeted, his hand playing with the handle of his .32 pistol in its holster. Harkness paused in front of him, looking him up and down with a contemptuous gaze.

"You got a lot of guts coming back here," Harkness said with a hint of malice in his voice.

Marcus groaned and hurriedly replied, "Look, Harkness, we both know-"

The guard cut him off, his voice calm. "It was years ago, and you paid us back. Doesn't change anything. People remember, Marcus, and I'm afraid I won't be able to stop anyone from slitting your throat when no one else is around. Watch your back." Harkness placed a hand on his shoulder, nodded, and proceeded up the steps, slamming the door behind him. Marcus stared after him for a moment, then walked over to Flak and Shrapnel's shop. Shrapnel was nowhere to be seen, but Flak sat on the couch behind the gun table, smoking a cigar. Flak looked surprised to see him.

"Hmm. What a surprise, seeing you here. Well, have any special needs? I've got a Flamer in good condition, and a silenced and scoped G3 that I'm selling pretty cheap." Flak said, putting his salesman skills to use.

Marcus smiled, not expecting such a polite reception. "Actually, I'm looking for some .44 ammo. I understand it's hard to come by, but I need quite a bit."

Flak stood up, tossing his cigar into the nearby trash bin. He walked over to the gun cabinet, swaying his arms as he walked. He began to rummage through the contents. "So, .44 ammo, eh? Ain't seen anyone wantin' that for a long time. What's the occasion?" Marcus moved next to him, pulling the Desert Eagle out of his jacket pocket. The gun merchant took a look at it and whistled.

"I've only seen one of these before, about 20 years ago. Fired it too. With the .50 ammo, they got a huge kick, but you should be able to handle the .44." Flak said. Upon finishing, he removed 5 boxes of ammo from the case and set it on the table. "I'd normally charge a bunch for these, but with the knowledge that it's gonna be used for an Eagle, I'll let it go for 46 caps."

Marcus counted out the money, then emptied the boxes of ammo into a sack hanging at his side. He took just enough rounds to fill the pistol, and proceeded to load it. He cocked it and put the safety on, switching the holster for it with his .32's holster, which he hooked onto his belt at the left side of the small of his back. With a wave, he left and took a wide course around the marketplace, climbing the rusted stairs to the third level with an unnecessary speed.

It was not long before he arrived at the clinic. He glanced around, checking to see if anyone was around, before he ducked into the room. Dr. Preston was not present, in fact the room was empty except for the equipment and a single patient sleeping on a cot in a corner. Marcus waited several minutes, but the doctor didn't show up. Marcus became annoyed, and decided that for having to wait, he would take some medicine. He opened a cupboard and discovered a treasure trove of supplements, vaccines, and antibiotics. His eyes rested greedily on a vial of Jet that sat upon the top shelf. He took it down and slipped it into his pocket as footsteps began to clang against the floor outside. Marcus quickly closed the door and slipped back over to the table he had been resting against previously.

"Ah, Marcus, so good to see you!" Dr. Preston said jauntily.

"Hello, Dr. Preston. Good to see you." Marcus replied uneasily.

"Yes, yes. As I recall, the last time I saw you, you had a rather large bullet in your leg." the doctor replied, chuckling. He walked over to the patient lying on the cot and began to take several readings. "Hmm, pulse 86, core temperature 99.4..." he picked up a medical clipboard and wrote his readings down. Preston turned to Marcus. "So, what brings you here?"

Marcus let out a relieved sigh. He had been expecting the doctor to be angry with him, like everyone else. "Well, you see, Katrina and I? think she might be pregnant, and we wanted to know if you for one had the equipment to see, and secondly, if you could come and check."

Dr. Preston looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, I certainly do have the equipment, but as for taking it, and myself, for that matter, all the way to Megaton, that I'm afraid I cannot do."

Disappointed, Marcus turned to leave. "Well, I guess I'll see when we both can come down," he said over his shoulder, and made his way out of the ship.



***



The sun was setting in the sky before Marcus caught sight of Megaton. He was still a ways off, near the outer edge of the DC ruins. Ahh, home, he thought to himself. Noticing the approaching darkness, he flipped a switch on the side of his Pip-Boy. Great radiant light began to shine from the screen and several flat bulbs on the sides. He turned on Galaxy News Radio, just in time to hear the beginning of I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire. A sudden rumble shook the earth, tossing Marcus to the ground. He was momentarily blinded by an intense flash of light that burned into his retinas. When it passed, he looked to Megaton, over which an enormous mushroom cloud was forming.

"No?" Marcus muttered in disbelief. Despair slowly crept over him, until he could stand it no longer. He let out a bloodcurdling scream that rang across the heavens, and dropped to his knees. The reality of what just happened struck him like a Super Sledge. His vision clouded, and he fell backwards into the void of his unconscious mind.

Comments welcome.

Okay Vanir, here's a comment. You're a good writer, with a nice style and everything works in the separate chapters. The problem I have is that, combine the chapters together, and they don't flow. They're nice pieces apart, but once you read the whole thing as one piece, you're sort of left wondering what happened in between each chapter, you know? Especially with the few most recent ones. I might be in the minority with that opinion, but that's what it seems like to me.

Other than that, everything looks good. No spelling or grammar errors that I could spot. Just try and make things flow together more. That's all the advice I can give, since you already have a good style set up.

Well, now the chapters are going to start being at most a couple days apart, so that solves that problem. But at this point, you could read them like episodes of a tv show.




Thanks.

Very nice... Evil Lone Wanderer, your close to being original, I already stole the idea, . But still, it's very rare to see anyone else doing it, so well done... Unless it isn't the Lone Wanderer and it's some guy...?

No, it is.

Awesome, great story!

10 years. 10 long, arduous years. It was July 9th, 2287, the tenth anniversary of the explosion of Megaton's bomb, and the subsequent stripping of Marcus' sane mind from his brain. 10 years since he had been mere cannon-fodder in the Enclave. Now, he was but a hollowed-out shell, a tool of destruction and command for any and all of the Enclave's needs. He found no reason to resist the love of killing that resided in him now; he had naught to live for. Unable to find Katrina's body anywhere, and unable to traverse inside the ruins of Megaton due to the intense radiation, Marcus had resigned himself to the fact that there was no way she could have survived the blast that scarred the landscape around Vault 101. His livelihood had been lost, his only saving grace taken from him.

Every day, he thought about his actions that day, the day before, and how they might have saved the city, and thus, Katrina. The major events played through his mind continuously. The tiny occurrences that he should have paid attention to. If only he had! Confessor Cromwell audibly arguing with an unknown man the night before, the Vault dweller lurking around town. If he had listened, this insanity, this utter injustice, would not have happened. Though not his fault, he continued to beat himself up for it, day, after day, after day. There was no escaping the tyranny that his mind forced upon him.

But that was a decade ago. He knew, deep down, that he needed to stay with the present, lest he be completely consumed by his misery. So it was, with great reluctance, he rose from his seat to answer the dull tone that emanated from a device adjacent to the door.

"Yeah, what is it?" He asked, pressing the red button attached to the com.

"Your presence is required, Lieutenant. For a debriefing. It would wise of you to attend." Colonel Autumn replied, his voice lightly rasping with age. "Assemble your squad, and report to the command center. You have one hour."

"Yes sir," Marcus said under his breath, after releasing his hold on the button. One hour? Who did Autumn think he was? Colonel, granted, but most of his squad couldn't be ready in an hour, let alone two. That was partially the reason they had been assigned to him. Rigid to the bone with protocol, the higher powers in the Enclave had expected him to snap them into shape. However, they were the laziest, most lay about people Marcus had ever met. However sloppy they were, though, they certainly didn't show it in the field. They could get a job done better than the Brotherhood's old military robot, Liberty Prime. Marcus knew more than a few people that were distressed that it had been destroyed, the Brotherhood itself notwithstanding; it was irreplaceable technology that could have assisted the Enclave to a great extent.

With a sigh, Marcus slowly meandered over to the switchboard hanging on his right wall. He flipped several switches, and spoke into the microphone.

"Men? And lady? You are to report to the command center within the hour. Orders straight from Colonel Autumn, so I don't want to hear any griping about it. Understood?"

"But Sir," a woman's voice floated from the speaker, "I'm not quite finished upgrading my Lazer Rifle, if I could have just a few more-"

Marcus cut her off. "You have your orders, soldier, and I strongly suggest you follow them, or there will be hell to pay." He powered down the com system, and began to ready himself. He pulled from his weapons locker a Lazer Rifle that he had enhanced with an additional compensator and power matrix, essentially reducing the power usage by two thirds and doubling the energy output. It was a modification he was rather proud of, and even impressed the Enclave scientists; it was actually an old raider trick he had used before to allow some of his traps to last longer.

The rifle was painted gloss black with two insignias, on either side. The left one was of a raptor's claw cut into the side of a lion, the other the generic Enclave emblem, an eagle carrying a torch and an arrow in each claw, presumably a pre-war symbol. The former he earned when he and the only surviving member of his team took down the Lyon's Pride, back when he was a mere private. It was a fight they had nearly lost, and even so had won with great losses: Matthew Hardent, his squad mate, had been killed, turned into a pile of ash, by the Brotherhood's accursed modified weapons. Marcus himself had escaped with only one leg left. His right leg had been replaced with a synthetic one built by the Commonwealth, at great expense. Marcus was fully aware that the only reason he had been allowed to have it was because the President admired his skill.

Donning his armor was a rather dull process; he first had to slip into his Mark 9 Recon Suit, before attaching the various pieces of armor to the suit. It would be much easier if he had an engineer to assist him, as those guys could as quickly wipe down the outside of his armor as attach it, but unfortunately for him, he apparently was not important enough to have VIP assistance. Lieutenants were as numerous as the bacteria in a toilet, but he was also the only one with the authority to speak to President Eden directly.

After several minutes, he finally managed to equip it all. His appearance still frightened himself; the Black Devil armor was efficient for intimidation, if nothing else. It certainly wasn't the best power armor; the Brotherhood soldiers adorned with T-48c Power Armor were nearly indestructible. Thankfully, there were relatively few of them, only large military bases contained the armor, of which there were few, and most of those that had existed were destroyed by the atomic bombs of the War.

Marcus checked his clock and discovered that he had little more than a quarter hour left to meet the deadline. He made his way out of the door and down the corridor to the transport junction with haste. The soldiers he passed, both male and female, captain and corporal alike, nodded at him with respect. He had never imagined, living in Megaton, that he would ever have commanded the respect of so many people. Even so, there was nothing he wouldn't give to return to his old life, post-raider, that is. He had had so many plans for the future, only to have them torn away from him by a chance of fate.

Marcus arrived at the transport station, and boarded a cart to the main command station. He was absolutely sure that whatever awaited him, he was not going to like it.

Once again, comments are still welcome.

Hello again Vanir! Excellent new chapter. Once again I have little to offer in the way of criticism, at least for the moment. I would just like to say that you shouldn't be discouraged by the lack of comments. Fanfics often go ignored around here, but there are always at least a few people that read them through. Like me!

So keep it up!

Ah, in retrospect, one thing. Where did you come up with T-48c power armor? I don't remember that from the games, so is that just something you came up with, or am I missing something?

Hey Vanir. I can honestly say that in the few days I have been around the forums this is my favorite Fanfic. I love it and now can't wait for the next chapter.

Keep it up

KPnuts out!!

Thanks both of you. Ambrose, there really is no T-48c Power armor, but I don't see why they would have jumped from 45 to 50 without at least some beta armor in between. Besides, I like to rewrite history in my stories, if only slightly.

In future years, Marcus would admit to himself that he had not been prepared whatsoever for the scene he was to face. As soon as his vertibird touched down, he and his squad had been struck by heavy covering fire. Most of the bullets to strike him had been glancing, and bounced right off of his armor. However, a few of his squad members were not so lucky, however. Francis had been shot by a sniper round in the soft padding between his chest armor and helmet. He fell backwards with blood spurting out of his neck, coating the arid ground with pools of scarlet liquid.

He ordered his squad back, towards a run-down old shop, whose display stands were full of novelties; bobble-heads, postcards and the like. Their refuge was short lived, however, for the Brotherhood members had tracked their movements and within moments heavy rounds were blasting through the concrete walls just a few feet away. For some reason, the enemy troops were concentrating their fire on that one spot, even though no one stood there. Most likely cover fire, Marcus thought, and turned to the remaining members of his team. Only Jessica, Dimitri, Daron, and Martin remained, out of the original 12. Damn those [censored] Brotherhood soldiers. How could they have been expecting us?

"C'mon," he said through the his suit's integrated com system, "follow me, and avoid those bullets." He proceeded along the back wall of the shop, going prone to avoid the bullets ripping through the wall. Soon he was past, and he turned his head to check the status of his squad members. They were all operating well, with Martin just standing up from crawling under the spray, being the last. He gave them a short motion, and they followed him, weapons ready.

The land to the right of the building was rocky and uneven, perfect cover. Marcus hurried over to it, and his squad followed, ducking down behind some rocks to remain out of sight. They all rested their backs on the rocks, and Marcus let out a frustrated sigh.

"What the [censored] was that? There's no reason they should have known we were coming, unless our intel was corrupted!" he shouted, infuriated to no end.

Jessica crawled over to where he was resting. "Sir, at least we've done our part. The rest of the troops will be arriving momentarily, and they'll still be focused on finding us."

Marcus smirked, not caring that she wouldn't be aware of it. "You honestly think we're done here? Oh no, get ready for some combat. They," he gestured towards where the Brotherhood members were gathering the bodies of his fallen comrades, "did not die just for a stupid distraction. You have your weapons, now use them."

Jessica nodded, then pointed at Dimitri, who rose to a crouching position and followed her along a path between the rocks. Marcus allowed them a few moments to get into position, before grabbing a plasma grenade from his belt. '' He armed it, then tossed it toward the clueless brotherhood soldiers. A burst of green energy enveloped the area, sending the soldiers flying and ripping two of them to pieces. Marcus jumped out from behind his cover and shot 4 bursts from his Lazer Rifle at one of the soldiers, who was just beginning to pick himself up off the ground. The soldier collapsed, a hole burned in the side of his head.

The rest of the Brotherhood members hurried to their feet, aiming their weapons carefully. They advanced slowly towards Marcus. The lieutenant raised his weapon into the air, in a surrendering gesture. Suddenly, the farthest soldier to the right fell backwards, blood gushing from a hole in his forehead. The Brotherhood soldiers whipped to the direction that the bullet had come from, just to have several of them drop, their armor smashing together and emitting a crunching sound. They began firing randomly in the direction of Jessica and Dimitri.

Marcus hoped that they had got behind cover before anything bad happened. Regardless, he began firing at the Brotherhood soldiers. Daron and Martin rose out of their hiding spots and fired as well. Just then, the shop that Marcus and his depleted squad had hid behind exploded, casting shattered bricks and old, cheaply produced products in every direction. Heavy machine gun fire riddled the Brotherhood soldiers, and they began scattering, abandoning all sense of formation, just intent on escaping the carnage. Two vertibirds landed, and a multitude of Enclave soldiers emerged from their depths, firing at the scattering soldiers with haste.

Marcus had a mini celebration within himself. After the horrible start they had had, he never expected to make it out alive. It was short-lived, however, as a sniper rifle round slammed into his left arm, tearing it nearly in half. It hung from the rest of his body by just an inch of flesh and muscle. He wasn't quite sure what happened next, as the pain numbed his thought processes quite well. All he could recall was Jessica's voice shouting in his ear, being loaded into a vertibird, and seeing as it flew off two soldiers, one of them impossibly small to be fighting, clad in nothing but recon armor and a closed helmet decimating the Enclave soldiers, dodging bullets with unbelievable agility.

"I truly find it hard to believe you're still alive," A cool, mellow voice echoed in the large room. It looked more like a warehouse than a medical center; equipment strewn around the floor, diagnostic tools placed haphazardly in bins, on shelves, and wherever the apparent previous user just decided to drop it. Even the beds sat in odd positions, frequently placed in a way which almost required someone to have enough guile to be able to navigate a maze just to reach the far end. Regardless of its flaws, it certainly served its purpose, which was to provide the utilities treat and repair wounds, as well as replace biomechanical parts when required.

"I'm surprised myself," Marcus replied, staring at his newly repaired arm and flexing his fingers. Odd mechanical whirs emanated from his elbow, causing him to wince. He would have preferred to have kept as much of his actual arm as possible, but alas, the damage from the enemy sniper rifle had been too extensive to even allow the thought of such an idea. "One question, though."

"Shoot," said the female attendant.

Marcus twisted his face into one of puzzled curiosity. "How were you able to do this? I thought only the Commonwealth had this kind of technology."

The mechanic gave a short chuckle, before replying. "Yeah, but that was before you decided to get limbs ripped off for the first time. After that, I got direct orders from President Eden to work on replicating the tech. It was no easy task, either. Do you have any idea how hard it is to find smart circuits these days? The [censored] scavengers cleared out every stock of them for miles around. My absence resulted in quite a loss in soldiers, as well. I suppose, though, that it was worth it in the long run, since my fellow doctors and I will be able to treat wounds and [censored] better."

"Jesus [censored] Christ, I didn't ask for your life story. Whatever, I'm outta here," he said, then lifted himself off the medical table and made his way to the exit, as quickly as he could without tripping over any detritus.

The doctor snorted, then shouted after him, "Screw you. Don't forget to come back tomorrow for a follow up exam. You don't show up, I don't get paid, and then you get your ass beat!"

Marcus laughed the rest of the way out. After he pushed open the door, the bright shine of the sun struck him like a Super-Sledge, causing him to cover his eyes out of the sheer pain. It subsided momentarily, and he then checked his Pip-boy map to get his bearings. He was at the medical center enough that he should have its location memorized by now, but he never seemed to be able to do so. He marked a waypoint on the map, and then continued the computers directions to his quarters.


The sun was setting by the time he arrived; he could feel himself gaining vigor and his mind became sound, even though he couldn't actually see the sky. He walked to the door and entered a short code. With a beep, the door slid open, and he entered. Many thoughts clouded his mind, and he couldn't decide what to do. He then remembered that his Lazer Rifle needed some slight repairs, so he retrieved it from his supply closet. He couldn't find the actual energy to do anything with it, so he sighed and replaced it, and sat at his desk and put his head in his hands.

His life svcked, if he was perfectly honest with himself. The only boons he had from his position in the Enclave were clean food, water, and a place to sleep. Sure, he also had countless people to perform any and all tasks he wanted them to, but what was the point? That could only bring him temporary satisfaction. All he really wanted to do was return to his old life in Megaton, with Katrina. He had never even found out whether she had been pregnant or not. It seemed silly to worry about it now, but he still wanted to know.

As he contemplated this, a new thought entered his mind. Who were those two lightly armored Brotherhood soldiers that had decimated almost the entire attacking force? No soldier had been able to hit them- No, they had hit them, all right, the bullets just seemed to pass through them without resistance. Could this be new Brotherhood technology? Might the Enclave actually lose the war, after all of the ground they had gained? It was certainly a scary thought. What would become of him if they lost? Would he be executed? Exiled? Or worse? Only time would tell. Of course, to him, any one of the first two options would be preferable to his drab life now.

His thoughts returned to Katrina. Such a perfect, though short tempered, girl. Losing her had been the clincher on his sanity. Even to that day, he felt the strings of madness tugging at his entire being. It was wrong, there was no doubt about it. No god could have allowed something as drastic as the destruction of such innocent people and their town.

Realizing the futility of his wandering thoughts, Marcus dressed in his simple sleep suit and with difficulty, his mind still running, laid down on his cot and drifted off into sleep.



End of Part 1

C'mon, I know I'm not a perfect writer, there has to be flaws, things I can make better. I won't bite.

Terribly sorry for missing this Vanir. I don't head down this way much anymore.

Mechanically speaking, there aren't really any issues with your story. Everything is in its correct place, and while I feel a few of your sentences drag on a bit too long, that's something I'm certainly guilty of as well.

Non-mechanically speaking, your characters seem realistic to the universe, which is more than I, the lowly fantasy writer, could accomplish. My dialogue is always to stiff to fit into the Fallout world, but yours works. The story is good and I have nothing to complain about there either. I think it's a bit too short, but it's already probably longer than most fanfics around here, so I can't really complain about that either. All in all, it looks good.

Why thank you, Ambrose. I take that as high praise. Anyway, I plan on having there be 4 parts, about 7-10 chapters each.

Awesome story! I hit a bout of writer block, and decided to check the other FANFICs. Gotta say, I see great things coming from this one. I always love it when writters go into the Enclave.
http://www.gamesas.com/bgsforums/index.php?showtopic=1056873

I like it. The writing is technically good, particularly in the less dialogue-heavy chapters. I feel that having loads of direct speech hinders the flow of the story, and for that reason I'd love to see either more indirect speech or just less dialogue. The main character has been developed extremely well, and the plot is engaging.

Since you wanted some criticism: even though your writing style is technically sound, it isn't more than that at the moment. It isn't sensory, it isn't emotional, it isn't particularly interesting. Despite that, I think this is one of the better FanFics we've had here in the time I've been here.

Oh, and if you want lots of praise on this forum, you'd be much better off filling your stories with killing, explosions, boobs and plenty of tough-[censored] army characters and dialogue. :shrug:

Thanks. The thing about the explosions, killing, boobs, and tough-ass characters is that this isn't intended to be action-based. Mind you, there will be some action, but it will not be the primary basis of the story.

Eh, there's too much six and violence in most other fanfics anyway. Mostly hormone raged teenagers who are putting imagination on paper. Its good to see other dedicated writter trying to express their ideas. I honestly believe you should keep the style and tempo you're going with.