» Fri Dec 16, 2011 9:38 pm General Michael
By Bob Tom
Three, two, one.
And just like clockwork the New Vegas Monorail sped into the station with a smooth and yet jarring halt.
And just like clockwork Rogers entered the monorail only to be slightly pressed against the closing door by the fresh crowd of tourist.
They get worse every year.
The train departed from the airport station with a mild hum, all the while classical pre war music filled the air. Rogers didn't pay much attention to the tune sense such music was so prevalent on the radio stations, but he did admire the passing city, which despite it's age was arguably more beautiful than any other.
Rogers normally didn't enjoy letting his mind drift, but something about the lights of Outer Vegas stretching on into the darkness of the Mojave always comforted him.
After a minute or so the Monorail came rolling into the Strip station and the tourist began to depart for their night in the fun. Rogers normally took his time leaving with little incident until he glanced at the silver bottom of the monorail and noticed a large 10 gallon cowboy hat lying there. Rogers grabbed it and peered through the crowd searching for the owner.
Wouldn't be a guy in a pen stripe suit, and it certainly wouldn't be a female sense hats are out of fashion this time of year.
It took the crowd leaving the monorail for Rogers to find the hats' likely owner, which was a well fed large man in ranching attire, a dying breed, sleeping on the now empty bench.
“Excuse me sir,” Rogers asked while approaching, “Are you the owner of this hat?”
“Bughh huh?” The man asked while standing.
“Is this your hat sir?” Rogers outstretched the hat.
“Give me that hat you cheap suited son of a [censored]! This hat cost more than your life time salary!”
Just as the man was about to start his next tirade one of Mr House's freshly painted securitons rolled to the door of the Monorail.
“On the Strip, no civil disturbances are allowed, both of you come with me now.”
Roger immediately complied, left the train, and stood by the hulking machine. The man with the cowboy hat also staggered to through the door, tripped some, but finally remembered how to keep himself upright.
The train doors closed and it gained speed away from the loading platform, Rogers would give a million caps to be on it, rather than deal with the securiton.
“Civilians, the penalty for near violent civil disturbances is a 1 year term of forced labor, or a 10,000 cap fine each. Chose your method of payment.”
The man with a cowboy hat was visibly upset by this turn of events.
“10,000 caps?! What kind of highway robbery is this?!”
“Sir,” the robot hummed, it's screen turning red, “don't escalate this situation. Do you have the currency to pay the fine?”
“Well of course I [censored] don't! I just lost everything! Damn OSI took my land for half value! I don't even have a cap to my name! Let alone 10,000 of them!”
“Are you telling me you don't have sufficient credits to met a basic credit check? By law I must make you aware the penalty for committing a crime while under the 5000 cap minimum is a life term of forced labor or a seizure of all of your assets.”
“My assets?! I HAVE NO ASSETS YOU DUMB MACHINE!!”
The cowboy had had enough and reached for the revolver on his side. Before his finger could even touch the metal the robot grabbed his arm with it's grip attachment and rolled behind him breaking it. The robot them released the man to the ground letting him sit in a pool of his own blood and howl from the pain of his dislocated shoulder.
Great, now Robo cop will want to have a go. Can't a man go to a [censored] house in peace anymore?
The robot turned 180 degrees without rolling from it's position to speak with Rogers.
“Do you have the 10,000 cap payment? Or will you be joining this criminal in forced labor?”
“Calm down, rolly I have your caps.”
“Present said caps now or face imprisonment.”
Rogers knew he didn't have 10,000 caps, but he did have a bag which was good for something. Rogers picked up his backpack and stuffed his left hand inside, letting his right give support.
“Alright now robot back up, I have a fully armed Mini Nuke in this bag and I'm not afraid to use it.”
The robot didn't respond at first, but then a flood of sound waves filled the air and the normal rail station turned into a militarize zone. Securitons from the lower levels rolled upstairs and aimed their Gatling lasers at Rogers' head. The first robot from before aimed both of his missiles at Rogers, knowing his auto repair would fix any self inflicted damage.
Roger could feel the tension in the air, and if the robots freed up enough CPU space to estimate on the weight of his bag he was screwed.
“So tell me, why now? I mean there have been so many other times for you to get me here.”
The face of the courier came across the screen. Given Rogers experience with House, he knew immediately that the still green and black picture of his face on the screen was an indication that he had transitioned to a life of eternal existence within the hull of a chamber.
“Still looking as ugly as ever Nicolas.”
“Just trying to keep up with you General Michael. Or is it Rogers now? You know I must admit when House gave me the signal it was time to tie up this loose end at first I didn't know what to say.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Rogers could see the train coming back down the track, right on time.
Thirty, Twenty Nine, Twenty Eight
“Now Nicholas, I know you deal with stats. And I also know you know how horrible it would be if this Mini Nuke I have in this bag detonates. Even your hard protective armor won't protect you from a nuclear explosion.”
“True Rogers, but most mini nukes were used during the 20 years war and your chances of acquiring one are slim. Plus given there are still a few securitons left I'll be able to transition my avatar regardless.”
“Also true Nicholas, but you know damn well who I am. I've been to Vegas a million times, and I know House's lap dog has it out for me, but I would of thought you all could have been more smooth about all of this. I mean seriously, a civil disturbance charge? Is that the best you all can come up with?”
“House had concerns about me ridding the world of your presence but I convinced him otherwise. You being a man of such high stature in the South. Surely your death will mean a resumption to the war will it not? Not that matters, seeing how their star will be dead soon they will have no one to lead them, and for a gambling trip no less! ”
I was actually here to see the hokers, but whatever floats your boat. Three Two-
“See you soon old friend.” was all General Michael had to say as he tipped his hat to the securitons and jumped through the opened Monorail door. The crowds of tourist couldn't move quickly enough to evade Michaels' fleeing stride through the car nor the securitons payloads. Michael separated himself between the lasers with the human payload as de facto shields and just as the number of tourist to put himself in between decreased to dangerous levels Michael broke through the rail car door and continued moving to the engineers room.
As the train began it's scheduled departure the securitons followed closely behind changing their weapons to missile status. Two securitons gained speed on the monorail then unleashed their rocket payloads on the train, sending the axillary cars into the residential housing below in a raging fireball of death. The two securitons were flung off the tracks by the explosion leaving only the one controlled by Nicholas.
General Michael had just leaped into the engineers car when the explosions sent the car tumbling, almost veering off the tracks itself. The train was now quickly approaching the first turn and there was little time to act.
The monorail was run by a computerized program but could be overrode if someone were to manually change the settings. General Michael stumbled to his feet and dived for the control panel wildly pressing buttons until the train increased it's speed. From behind Nicholas' securiton gained speed while firing it's missiles at close range. The monorail derailed off the lines in a flaming ball of carnage into a pre war brick building below.
–
“Was the body recovered from the wreckage Nicholas?”
“No Mr. House, nor any signs of his personal belongings.”
“You realize this means a continuation of the war?”
“Yes, Mr. House.”
“And you also realize that the Southern Coalition now has it's top General and Strategist leading the campaign correct?”
“Yes, Mr. House.”
“Then we are truly doome-”
In an instant Mr. House's monitor exploded in a grand display of fireworks and plasma. General Michael fired his remaining ammo at Nicholas' securiton sending it into a momentary state of paralysis.
General Michael turned it on it's back and looked directly into the screen,
One, Two, Three
Behind Michaels the lights of Vegas gave way to the darkness that enveloped the city with a breeze of victory. Under his face the glare of Nicholas' screen continued to illuminate the room giving a ghostly appearance to General Michaels.
“Knowing House there is a backup generator and securiton unit for you and him as well, so let Vegas serve as a testament to your failure, and the new beginnings of earth. And to think, none of this would of happened if the peace agreement was honored and I was allowed to visit in peace.”
Nicholas had nothing to say more to say knowing the reasons and missteps that brought him to this point.
“O and Nicholas,” General Michaels said as a goodbye, “I came here for the [censored]s, not the gambling. Good luck friend.”
And just like clockwork General Michaels was gone from the populated ruins of precision and back to lead the south; after stopping by a brothel or two on the way.
