Operation: Genesis

The earth was without form and void, and darkness was upon the face of the deep

The sun of the wasteland beat down viciously on the windswept mesa, nothing stirred except for a few small lonely dust devils and a lone figure in a weather beaten duster hunched over a large duffel bag. The man meticulously looked through the duffel bag, pausing to mentally note the contents inside. After a few moments the man stood up wiping his black tinted goggles of grime with his sleeve. Lifting his duffel bag onto his back with a grunt he strode rapidly towards the edge of the plateau. At the edge he stared down purposefully at a large bustling city.

"Hmmmph the Hub, huh" he pondered as he descended from the mesa "more like a festering pit of mongrels and mutants" As he came closer to the outskirts a large sign loomed in front of him, what appeared to be a rusted interstate sign from the area before the war "WELCOME TO THE HUB" was scrawled on it with an unsteady hand. He flipped his collar up and mentally said to himself "Show-time"

As the lone figure strode towards the entrance the first thing that he noticed was the acrid smell of mutated cows that the locals called brahmin mixed with the smell of body odor that was called the locals. The second thing was that a short fat guard sat sprawled in a weather-beaten recliner. In front of him, a hunting rifle rested on a rusted washing machine and a helmet draqed the guards face. The young man paused for a moment and reached for his paperwork. The fat man waved him in like any of the other nondescript wasteland merchants that had came to town today.

He began to walk down what could only be described as the main street, side stepping the remains of what looked to be a rather large rat. Scanning the rusted group of buildings on the side of the street, he recognized the building he was looking for. The Maltese Falcon sat by itself, it looked like the corpse of a building that had a make over from a drag queen. He walked through solid steel doors and took off his goggles in the smoke filled entrance, to the right were some dilapidated craps tables with hunched over men, staring at the tables as women who looked like they were dressed by whatever drag queen had designed the building took their money.

The middle aged lady that was at the bar was looking at him with a mixture between disinterest and expecting.

"Are you there person to see about a room?" he asked reluctantly to the women.

"Sure thing stranger, and any other needs you have" she said with a gravely smokers voice.

"Hmmmm, not right now but Ill be down later do you serve food at the bar I haven't eaten in a day and I could eat...." A brahmin they call it a brahim " a whole brahmin" the man replied.

"Sure do, a night will take you back 100 caps don't try to haggle I know your types" She replied gruffly

"All right can't say thats fair but I'll take it" was the reply as he reached into coat pulling out a satchel counted out 100 caps and handed it to her.

"Here you go" said the lady as she threw him the key to his room and took the caps quickly.

"However dinner is almost over so you better get it now if you want something besides gutrot" she quickly added.

The Merchant grabbed the keys out of the air and nodded. He sat down at the nearest barstool, sliding his duffel bag securely between his feet and picked up a menu. The menu contained a whole slew of foods few of which sounded edible. He put it down and looked up at an impatient women.

"Two Iguana on a stick and a nuka cola, please" he said quickly.

"Should be right out." she said trying her best to act like she wanted to take his order.

Thirty minutes later the man was walking to his room with a hard lump in his stomach, regretting severely that he hadn't brought any food rations. Reaching his room he quickly unlocked the door and went in and shut the door behind him. Once inside he placed his bag on the floor and surveyed the small cell like room, a small rather ratty bed, two chairs, and a desk a window with grimy yellow paint on it filtered the harsh setting sun. Grabbing one of the chairs he wedged it under the door handle, there was no reason to test whether the owners took the liberty of going through its tenants stuff.

Then he turned towards his bag, pulling out of it a plastic bag with a pristine piece of paper that almost shone in contrast to the room. Sitting down at the table and turning on the light, he blew what looked like an age's worth of dust off of the surface. Pulling the paper, which was covered with a grid and markings denoting specific locations, out of the bag and spread it on the desk. He traced his finger from a marker named the Hub to another marker named Junktown.

"Can't wait to tour this cosmopolitan [censored] hole"

He then traced his finger to a marker, to a place no other map in the wasteland had on it. He tapped his finger on it few times thoughtfully and put the map away. Insured it was sealed tightly in the bag, and put it carefully
into his duffel bag. Looking at the undoubtedly vermin infested bed he sighed and flicked off the light.

No comments? It can't be that bad.

Its a good start, intreresting too feel the same, no-one really comments on the work we do.

It's not that it's bad I think it's just the lay out. I don't really want to scroll across every time I read a new line. I'm not sure how you managed to do that but if you fixed it I'm sure more people would comment.

Yeah, get rid of the long line of dashes so it doesn't make me have to scroll back and forth to read it. Not all of us have super-high resolution monitors

Fixed I didnt realize that was what was messing it up sorry, anyhow any thoughts/critiques.

A good story line so far, plenty of description and easy to read. No complaints about it, good one.

Chapter 2

The next day the man stood in front of a door with the sign “Water Merchants” written above it. Stepping inside was like stepping into another world, everywhere people were bustling filing paper work and calling out order numbers. A large man that was waiting at another door yelled to him.

“You here about a job”

“Yes, escorting the caravan leaving at noon”

“Alright go right through the boss will set you up”

A week later

Standing in front of the aptly named Junktown the man took the caps from the Caravan leader, the trip had gone uneventfully and the merchant was pleased enough for that fact.

“I wont be returning I have business here” he stated to the rather stocky Caravan leader.

The stocky man merely shrugged in indifference and turned and began yelling at the men who were unloading the brahmin of water.

After acquiring a room for the night the man went to the local Hole, which just happened to be the local bar. The look of the hotel owner had told him he didn't need to bother ask if they served food. Sitting at a table with a few other merchants who talked about subjects he feigned interest in. The oldest, a rather grayed man who considered himself the patriarch of the group, in a moment of quiet looked at the newest member of his group and said.

“Where you from abouts, never did get that or yer name for that matter.”

“Names Adam” the man replied

He shook hands with each of the men at a table and continued on with story.

“From Adytum that place has been goin down hill since the “law" came to town, so I came up north to do some trading mostly stuff I have scavenged but a few pieces of pre-war tech that I figure the locals in Shady Sands would pay big for, here they are getting hit hard by the raiders and radscorps...”

The other men nodded in agreement except for a man with a deep widows peak clad in slightly less weathered clothing and a large Bowie knife purposely unconcealed, who just watched him intently.

“yeah they say we merchants are taking advantage of the situations, but I'm a man of the market and if demand is up well the price goes up, anyone who says otherwise is a damn commie”

Murmurs of approval rose from the table, the old man quick to retake his position as center of attention, quickly added.

“You know I was goin over the Brotherhood of steel compound west of here and happened upon a radio, and not just any radio the damn thing was blurtin out some sort of gibberish, and not in any tongue I had ever heard, makes you wonder what exactly goes on in that bunker of theirs”

After the other merchants were sufficiently involved in a discussion of the Brotherhood of Steel, the lone traveler slipped off through the door. Standing next to the side of the building, Adam relieved himself staring intently at the corrugated steel side, the sounds of laughter echoed from behind the building coming from what he guessed to be the local gang. A sudden crunching of footstep startled him, as a tall figure walked by.

“So where are you from again” the man in metal armor asked as he stopped and began to piss, puffing a cigar and looking up at the cold pale moon.

Closing his eyes, Adam, remembering that no one repeats a story exactly the same began again.

“Down south, town called Adytum the Regulators have been really puttin the screws on us lately”

The man with his back to Adam, tilted his head to his should as steam rose from the sand in front of him, and with a wicked grin said.

“Really, see I'm a Regulator up here scoping out the town for possibilities of expansion”

Adam zipped up his pants.

“And here is the thing I'm really good with faces, hell that's the reason they sent me up here, and I...”

The tall mans front teeth shattered from the shear force of Adams hand pulling up on his jaw. The larger man instinctively reached for the knife in his belt that was at that moment going through his jugular artery then through his windpipe and jugular vein to his corotid artery. Adam threw the Regulator away as blood sprayed like a fountain from the mans neck.

Tossing the knife at the dieing mans feet, he turned walked off quickly into the night leaving behind the so called “Law Man” clutching his throat and laying in the cold desert sand.

The next day...

Adam walked towards the entrance of the town, he noticed a group uniformed men circling a man in almost intact clothing standing in front of it stopping people. With out hesitation he walked straight on towards them. The man who was in the middle of the group motioned him over, he put a puzzled look on as he strode over.

“You there, sorry to bother you but we had a murder last night next the Hole.”

“Really?” Replied Adam

“Yeah, and...well my name is Killian Darkwater and I'm trying to do some investigation into the matter, not that anyone is shedding tears for the man, but we have to do something for the sake of appearences. Is there anything you can tell us?”

“Well now that you mention it I left the Hole pretty early, too much to drink ya know, but I heard a lot of noise from behind the Bar, sounded like a pretty big group back there.”

“Hmmph well the Skulz actually did something right for once” Killian Muttered “Well have a safe travel and don't be afraid to come to Junktown anytime”

“Will do” replied Adam as he strolled by in to the wasteland.