DESMOND XD
cant wait to see what she does
XD

Thanks, fallout_fan_boy! Desmond's foul mouth didn't quite gel with the forum autocensor, hopefully it didn't break immersion too much. Other readers, please give me some feedback - it's all appreciated. Anyway, on with the tale...

----

A two-hundred year old ghoul, seeking a book. Marie didn't trust him, but she had no choice. She had no desire to storm a raider strongpoint single-handedly, so enlisting the help of The Commonwealth's guardian, supposedly the Lone Wanderer himself, seemed prudent. She set off at pace to find the individual, the one man who could answer her questions.

The raiders had constructed a crude fortress out of car husks on the main road out of town. Marie viewed the fools through her scope, disgusting marauder scum. Mutilated bodies decorated the entrance. As the sun hung high in the Massachusetts sky, it cast a long dark shadow over the camp. A man of modest stature, clad in a brown fedora and flowing long-coat, a strange device attached to his left wrist, briefly checked the cylinder of his revolver before strolling confidently into the camp. He disappeared from view, as five booming shots followed in quick succession. The raiders replied with the crack of small arms fire, which in turn was answered by six thunderous Magnum rounds.

A raider sprinted out from the camp, tripping over himself as he ran, a look of sheer terror adorning his face.
"It's him!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. His assailant followed him out of the entrance, prompting the thug to fall to his knees. "Oh my God, I don't wanna die! Please!"

The man carefully took aim. In an instant the top of the raider's skull was blown clean off, his body slumping pathetically to the ground. Marie half expect the executioner to blow the smoke away from the tip of the gun-barrel. Instead, he holstered his weapon and marched back in to the camp. Marie drew a weapon and tentatively followed him.

She held her breath as her nostrils caught the scent of raider's previous victims. The raiders themselves lay dead and dying, rivers of blood pouring from their gaping wounds. One writhed on the ground, the round not quite finishing him off. The figure crouched over the wounded raider and in one awkward motion snapped his neck. The body spasmed briefly as the last remnant of life was taken from him.

Marie pointed her rifle at the figure and waited for an acknowledgement that never came.
"The Lone Wanderer, I presume?"

"Yes," he replied with a wry smile, lifting his fedora slightly.

"You're far younger than I expected," she observed, noticing his trimmed beard, youthful face and soft-spoken voice. "Prove it."

"Look around you," the Wanderer replied, throwing his arms out to emphasise the carnage that surrounded them. "If that demonstration wasn't sufficient, I don't know what will be. I am the man known as The Lone Wanderer. Also known to some as The Paladin, Messiah and Nine-Fingers. Scourge of the lawless, defender of the innocent, liberator of the oppressed. At your service."

"Nine-Fingers?" Marie questioned, noticing that all of the Wanderer's fingers were attached.

"It doesn't refer to me, but my enemies. A habit I had in my youth. So, you know who I am. Who are you?"

"Marie Ashur. I believe you know the name."

The Wanderers eye's glazed over as he thought for a second.
"Ashur...Ishmael. One time ruler of Pittsburgh...yes, I've heard the name."

"You killed him. He was my father. You killed my mother too."

"I've killed many people. Some were inevitably parents. It changes nothing."

"For you, maybe," snarled Marie through gritted teeth. "You made me an orphan before I could even speak! Why did you do it?"

"They were obviously nonpersons and deserved the death I brought them," he replied without hesitation. "I did not hear you objecting while I exterminated this infestation. How do you know they don't have children? It is an irrelevance."

"You don't even care, do you? You don't even remember? The Pitt, the baby girl, nothing?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as the Lone Wanderer gazed at her, betraying no emotion. Tears turned to anger. 'Messiah', this uncaring monster?
"You killed my parents," she whispered. "Prepare to die."

The two drew weapons. Marie charged unthinkingly at the Wanderer, an animal roar escaping her throat. She shattered the butt of her infiltrator, smashing it into the Wanderer's face. The impact sent both tumbling to the ground. The Wanderer grabbed his fedora with one hand and Marie with the other, tossing her like a ragdoll as he composed himself. The body of a raider broke her fall. Marie sprawled on the ground as the Wanderer walked towards her. She grabbed her silence 9mm pistol, firing wildly at the Wanderer. The clip expended, she felt for another weapon, finding her survival knife. She flung it at the approaching figure, who caught it with superhuman reflexes. The figure picked her up again one-handed. Marie kicked and beat at her enemy, in futility.
The Wanderer studied her face.

"Motive revenge," he monologued. "Not unusual. However subject appears Visitor, not a nonperson. Rehabilitation possible?"

"Rehabilitation," Marie laughed through her tears. "Rehabilitate this."

She quickly shoved a grenade into the pocket of the Wanderer's long-coat, determined to at least take him down with her. The Wanderer threw her out of the camp, her delicate frame landing with a thud in the dust of Quincy. She closed her eyes tight, shielding them from the explosion, as debris showered her.

Slowly she opened them.

holy crap....
that was.....AWESOME!!!
^^

http://img101.imageshack.us/img101/9881/boomta.jpg

(censored) you http 404 not found (CENSORED) YOOOUUUU!!!!!
^_^

Damn! Imageshack, you...

Try again now.

I get the feeling that the lone wanderer has the cyborg perk in this story. Am I to also assume that the Lone Wander slips back and forth between his true self and some unthinking robot that works for the Commonwealth.

Pure speculation based on his speech.

or he was brainwashed by someone in the commonwealth

Or....and this is what im assuming.....

That isn't the Lone Wanderer it's just an Android made in the guise of the Lone Wanderer. Or hell maybe it doesn't even look at all like the Lone Wanderer it just has knowledge of what he did and claims to be him.

Looking forward to finding out more. Awesome story Lorca. I don't know why I put off reading it for so long.

The story continues...right now!

----

Marie struggled to her feet, astonished.
"What are you?" she whispered. "You're not...human, are you?"

"No," the Wanderer replied, helping Marie to her feet. "But strictly speaking, neither are you. Your genetic code..."

"We're not talking about me," Marie snapped. "I'm searching for the man who killed my parents. Answer my question. That blast should have torn you to pieces."

"My clothing is an advanced aramid fibre, which is why a fragmentation grenade merely scorched it. My skin is a type 45 titanium alloy, containing iron, chromium and ruthenium. Impervious to small arms fire and minor explosions."

"You're...a robot?" Marie clasped her head in her hands and paced in frustration. "I travelled hundreds of miles, killed and was nearly killed, for a robot?!"

"An advanced prototype, G-class. My initial designation was G1-01. We also prefer the term 'android', Marie. And we are sentient. Your familiarity with artificial intelligence likely stops at the common Protectron. We are to them what you are to a radroach."

"I...where is the real Wanderer? Why are you here?"

"My sire-"

"Sire?"

"Most of my kind are replicants, based on the appearances, memories and personality of a human of worth. We refer to these individuals as our sires. The Lone Wanderer was my sire."

"So, he's here?"

"Was here. Eighteen years ago he travelled to The Commonwealth from The Capital Wasteland. He was seeking a Doctor Li. Eighteen years ago The Commonwealth was much like the rest of the former United States, violent. He showed us a way. How one man could make a difference against the lawless. So, I was constructed in his image, with his consent. Which is why I appear far younger than you expected, as I do not age. My objective is the same as his, to spread fear into the hearts of those who prey on the innocent."

"You're using his image to defend The Commonwealth?"

"Correct."

Marie thought for a second, surveying her charred fount of information. "But why him?" she asked, "What made him so special?"

"He was unrivalled in combat. But used his gifts for the greater good, the core principle of The Commonwealth. He was not fully human either. Before he travelled north he made extensive cybernetic enhancements to his body, along with a Vault-Tec designed targeting system. His pain threshold, healing factor, instincts and reflexes were all augmented. Short-cuts in the central nervous system, relaying signals milliseconds faster."

"Milliseconds?"

"In combat the difference between life and death. Your intent here was revenge, you sought to kill me in order to somehow avenge the deaths of your parents. I could have killed you at any time, of course. But I saw a potential, was able to calculate that your rage would subside once you knew what I was. The real Wanderer will not. If you reach for your gun, he will instinctively shoot you in the head. You will be dead before you hit the ground. Subterfuge will not work either. He will read your intent from the slightest facial expression."

"So you're saying I don't stand a chance."

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

Marie felt her heart drop. Her grand quest for revenge was becoming more pointless by the second.
"But where is he?"

"I have no knowledge of his current whereabouts. He left The Commonwealth two months after my construction, after the initial sweep. I have never left the boundaries of what was Massachusetts. It seems likely that he's back in The Capital Wasteland, if he is still alive."

"You mean you don't know?"

"It was not considered important for my mission."

"Then I've only one option left," Marie said with feigned confidence. "The ghoul said he knew where The Wanderer was, but wanted a book for the information."

"Then you'll be heading into the university. You will not survive."

"You don't think much of my abilities, do you?"

"You are female."

"And what's that supposed to mean," Marie snapped. "Women now rule The Pitt, and far better than-"

"It is not misogyny, at least not on my part," the android interrupted. "The inhabitants of the university do not allow females within their walls, you will be shot on sight."

"Then I shoot back."

"My evaluation of your combat abilities, your hesitation, aim, reflexes and emotional instability calculates a 0.09% chance of success. You lack the 'killer instinct' required to survive a confrontation of that magnitude."

"I don't give a damn for your calculations."

"You should. My positronic brain excels at calculating probabilities."

Marie turned her back on the simulacrum, picking up her weapons she walked in the direction of the university.
"Wait," the android called. "You will be killed."

"I've always known that was a risk," Marie answered. "It changes nothing. I must get that book."
The android sprinted towards her, tackling her to the ground. In an instant he had his knee across her neck. She screamed and kicked her legs in futility.
"Let me go!" she screamed, pounding at the dirt with her free hand.

"My mission is to protect the innocent. It is my purpose, my entire reason for being. I fail that mission if I allow you to stroll to your death."

"Then...come with me."

The android cocked his head to side. "Even with our assistance you only have a 78.47% of survival. Rounded up to the second decimal place."

"I like those odds," laughed Marie. "Now let me go, G1-01, and we'll go get that book."

2 things
1: SO MANY BIIG WORDS!!!! MY NON-ANDROID BRAIN CANT TAKE IT!!!!!!!
and 2:awesome

great story i wonder where the REAL lone wanderer is ?

It'll be interesting to see what the CW is like....

This is amazing!
You really did a great job. Probably the best thing ive ever read. No exaggeration :celebration:

Hey, Do you know when the next one is coming out? I await anxiously :3

It's time to get back to the wasteland (and Akavir), sorry for the delay. I'll have an update up very soon. In the meantime I'll be retroactively organising the story into chapters, which I think suits it better than the kind of continuous narrative at the moment.

Right, let's get back to it!

Chapter 8: When I Have Fears.

The strange wanderer and his ward marched through the rubble to the fortress university, home of a band of cultists and the book which held the key. The university complex must have been an impressive edifice of learning before the war, grand Gothic arches set in grey stone and magnificent carved fa?ades set in darkened limestone, a small slice of the Old World in the New. The strike against Boston had not been kind to the university, nor had the ravages of time. Collapsed arches and crumbling stones comprised the majority of the the skeletal structures, although one remained.

"The main lecture hall and library," G1-01 explained, pointing to the charred ruins. "Probability indicates that the book you seek will be found within, if it still exists."

"What about the lecture hall?"

"The nonpersons within will likely have converted it to a living area. We will have to cut down the occupants in order to thoroughly search the facility."

"Then what are we waiting for?" asked Marie impatiently.

"My ocular organs are far superior to yours," the android replied, tapping his eyeball with a finger. "I have visual range ten times that of an unmutated human. I can also see in the infra-red spectrum."
He squinted slightly, focusing on the university.
"Based on thermal radiation readings there are seventeen lifeforms present," he spoke. "The others are likely scavenging the ruins elsewhere."

"Now that we've established how many we've got to kill, can we finally go and get that book?"

G1-01 thought for a second.
"Your armour is primitive. If you are hit by a nine millimetre round, there is a seventy-two point four per cent chance of organ penetration."

"Then I won't get hit," replied Marie defensively. "This primitive armour has done fine so far."

G1-01 removed his dark long coat and carefully placed over Marie's shoulders. Although it looked like rough leather, it was smooth to the touch and light to the feel. Marie's tiny frame was swallowed in the coat, the tails dragging in the dust, sleeves hanging from her hands like some sorcerer of old. She rolled up the sleeves, a wry smile on her face.
"I look ridiculous," she laughed.

"Aesthetics are not important. The coat will protect you from small arms fire, blunt instrument trauma and explosive shrapnel."

"If aesthetics aren't important, why do you bother? You're bulletproof anyway."

"For you, I mean. Terror is an important psychological weapon. When I approach, they see the long coat and hat, recognising me as the Lone Wanderer. For you, survival is more important."

"Well, now that I'm adequately protected, shall we go and get that book?"

G1-01 did not respond, but merely proceeded to the hall. Marie scampered after him, hiding behind his frame. G1-01 glanced behind to Marie, putting his finger to his lip. Marie nodded. They approached the main door, bound in chains and padlocked. G1-01 grabbed the chain with both hands, and in one swift and small motion severed the steel in two, dropping the padlock to the dust. He drew his revolver and slowly pushed the door open.

The entrance revealed an open hall. Mattresses were strewn about the floor. In the centre, a noose hung from what had been a projector unit. A vaguely humanoid statue was positioned under it, a figure bowed in front of it. With lightning speed, G1-01 silently sprinted behind the figure, placing one hand over his mouth and another around his chest. The cultist kicked in futility, as G1-01 dragged him back outside. Marie caught a glimpse of his tattooed face and shaved head as G1-01 pinned him up to a wall.

"Listen carefully," the android whispered to his prisoner. "Tell me where the Black Book is, or die."

"Defilers!" spat back the cultist as G1-01 removed his hand from the mouth. "We will die to defend our sacred secrets, we will sum-"

The artificial hand closed around the throat, crushing the trachea. The cultist's face contorted in pain and horror, unable to scream in pain or for help. G1-01 let him drop to the floor, entering the building again. Marie was visibly shaken by this show of brutality. She had seen death many times, but not like this. She felt her stomach turning.

"Conflict is unavoidable," G1-01 whispered. "Stay behind me."

As if by instinct, G1-01 headed straight to the library. The smell of burning filled the air, overturned shelves and scattered papers greeted their eyes. On a podium, a robed figure recited gibberish to a seated gathering. Without hesitation, G1-01's revolver had blown the jaw off the speaker with a startling boom. The congregation turned, drawing weapons on their assailant. Within seconds 5 more lay dead, their brain matter splattered across the shelves. Bullets began to thud against G1-01's frame as he advanced, casually reloading his revolver and repeating the slaughter. One of the cultists drew a knife and charged, screaming unintelligibly. G1-01's outstretched palm greeted the nose, dropping him with a sickening crack. The remaining four decided to emulate the unsuccessful counter-attack, figuring that their strength in numbers would bring down the simulacrum of the Lone Wanderer.

They leaped at him, attempting to tackle him to the ground. G1-01 didn't move an inch. Marie swore she heard a chuckle as G1-01 crushed another's throat, while simultaneously grabbing another by the scruff of the neck and tossing him across the room as if he were nothing. At this sight the remaining two lost their nerve, and started to run, towards Marie. G1-01 flung out his arms and pointed both of his index fingers, ramming them just below the occipital bone, straight in to the nape of the fleeing cultists necks. Both fell instantly, clumsily. The thrown cultist was scrabbling to his knees, attracting the android's attention. He kicked the cultist back to the ground, cracking several ribs. The cultist screamed and coughed up blood, scrabbling in horror at what had happened to his fellow worshippers. G1-01 brought his boot down on the face, crushing the cranium like a egg.

At this sight Marie's queasiness got the best of her, as she vomited up her last half-digested meal of pork and beans. G1-01 wiped brain matter from his fingers using the pages of a book and spoke to Marie.
"Do you need medical assistance?"

"No," spluttered Marie, her ears ringing. "I'm just...I'll be all right."

"No you won't," the android replied. "You've been wounded."

G1-01 held Marie's head in his hands and turned it slowly to the left.
"Your ear. A bullet glanced it."

"How bad it is?" Marie asked, beginning to panic.

"Superficial damage," replied G1-01, applying a bandage. "But you will have reduced hearing in your right ear for about a month."

"I've got enough scars," she replied, flinching slightly as G1-01 dressed the wound. "One more isn't going to bother me."

She shooed the android away and approached the podium. Her insatiable curiosity lead her to open the black leather-bound book, a strange symbol running down its spine. It was full of diagrams, schematics and instructions Marie couldn't even begin to understand. She handed it to G1-01, who flicked through it.
"Cybernetics," he replied. "Artificial augmentations to the human body. Very advanced, even by the standards of The Commonwealth. I can see why your friend is interested in it."

"If he doesn't fulfil his end of his bargain I might need your persuasive talents, Wanderer. Do you mind coming with me?"

"Very well," G1-01 replied, tossing the book back to Marie. "I have committed the schematics to memory, they are now an asset of The Commonwealth."

Desmond was waiting for them, smoking a cigarette.
"You took your [censored] time," he greeted them. "Well now! Here's a blast from the [censored] past."

"My friend?" asked Marie.

"And my best [censored] friend too. Heard the rumours. Thought it was typical tribal rubbish."

"Do I know you?" G1-01 responded.

"No. But I knew the original. Met him in some swampy [censored]-hole down south, around twenty years ago, back when I was concluding some unfinished business. A gifted killer, that's for damn sure. Learned all he knew from me, no wonder they built a robot copy."

"I'm not a robot, I'm an an-"

"I don't really give a [censored]. What I do care about it that book. Did you find it?"
Marie pulled it out of her newly-acquired long coat.

"This book?"

"Good girl. That's the one. Nice work, although I see you got yourself a trophy."

"I've got plenty of trophies. Why do you need the book?"

"That wasn't part of our deal," Desmond replied forcefully. "But I'll uphold my end of the deal. You want to know where The Lone Wanderer is. I've heard all sorts about my little protégé. That he single-handedly destroyed The Enclave, that he's established some wonderful new paradise state, that he's travelled out west, even that he was abducted by [censored] aliens. The truth is he's fighting a war."

"A war?"

"You Americans never can stop fighting with each other, even after all this. His state and another have come to blows, from what I hear."

"So where is he?"

"Back down south. He'll either be in The District or playing soldier further south."

"The District?"

"His wonderful state, where the brahmin crap gold."

"How do I get there?"

"The Commonwealth runs boats down there every now and again. You'll have to ask around."

"Thanks for your help, Desmond."

"Yeah, it's been a [censored] pleasure. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a few more pieces of the puzzle I need to put together."

Marie turned to G1-01.
"Is this where we part, too?"

"I cannot leave The Commonwealth, but I will escort you back to the transportation hub further north."

"Thanks," she replied, nursing her ear "Let's go. The District awaits."

An enjoyable read. I hope to hear of Marie Ashur soon.

Very nice....great work

Yay

Good job. Nice to see you're still alive.

freakin awesome dude!!!!!

Believe me, I am still alive.
I'm writing fiction and I'm still alive...

Anyway, time to continue the chapter.

---

G1-01 had duly lived up to his function as guardian and protector. Without his assistance, Marie knew that she would surely have died attempting to attack the University. While new information was always welcome, travelling south gave her pause. She would once again be alone, unable to hide behind an android. During the following days, and still accompanied by the facsimile of the Lone Wanderer, she explored The Commonwealth as far as she was able, hoping to gain some insight or edge over the coming trials.
Emotionless guards halted her as she approached the fenced and pristine columns of The Institute. Outside the gates, an impromptu trading centre had sprung up for those called to The Institute. Hiring a mattress for the night and bidding a final farewell to G1-01, who departed northwards, she traded a vial of the cure for the promise of a weapon that would make her Infiltrator look like a pop-gun. Guards disappeared into The Institute, peering at the vial with incredulity. Morning came, and no-one woke her. Seeing her stir, the merchant addressed her. The Institute would be most interested, he said, in acquiring this unique genetic material - crudely implemented as it was, and would be willing to compensate her generously.

The merchant pulled a thin, silver tube from below his desk, covered in translucent tubes and black wires. A fragile looking stock and trigger was only vaguely discernible from the barrel. Flashes of green light pulsed through the tubes, although the mechanism was silent.
"A plasma beam rifle," the merchant proudly proclaimed. "Courtesy of The Commonwealth. Not our most advanced weapon, but just recompense for your inelegant attempts at gene resequencing."

"I've never seen a weapon like this," replied Marie, agog. It was far lighter than it looked, although solid to the touch. "How exactly do I fire it, or maintain it?"

"Maintain it?" the merchant laughed. "I suppose you're used to grease and dirt from that gunpowder powered contraption of yours. Nanites circulating through the mechanism automatically renew and repair the weapon. To fire, here it has something in common with your lead-flinging device. Point the barrel at what you want to die, then apply pressure to the trigger."

"But how do I reload it? What are nanites?"

"Poor girl," The merchant sighed, his mirth turning to pity. "...Tiny robots, you could say. As for reloading, it feeds off background radiation and the atmosphere."
The merchant pointed at three thin slits on the top of the barrel.

"That's where it gets the raw material for the plasma beam. The radiation charges it and provides the energy to convert the material into plasma. Applying pressure on the trigger unblocks the barrel, allowing a continuous stream of plasma from the barrel."

"Can I test it out? I'd rather not try it in combat."

"Certainly not. Not in here, at the very least. I have an old sheet plate of Lutetium allow out the back, you can test the weapon on that. Just stand clear."

The merchant gestured her towards a block of silvery white material, the size of a Corvega door, leant against the shop wall. Marie brought the weapon up to her shoulder, cradling the barrel in her palm. With no iron sights, she had to squint down the barrel. Bracing herself for the recoil, she squeezed the trigger. It gave a click, projecting a thin, continuous green glow from the barrel, with no recoil whatsoever. The block began to glow where the green beam impacted it.
"That's enough," cautioned the merchant. "You've seen how it works."

"Incredible," said Marie to herself. "A weapon to kill a legend..."

"What you do with it is your concern. Since you've fired it, the trigger has become accustomed to your biometric data. It won't work for any other individuals, so don't try selling it."

"What kind of feature is that?"

"A feature which protects The Commonwealth. A feature which, quite literally, stops our technology falling into the wrong hands. Now, do you have any further business?"

"Just some provisions," replied Marie, pulling bottlecaps out of her new long coat. "I need food and water, particularly."

"Why are you giving me those, then? Your wasteland currency is no good here. We accept Commonwealth Credits or District Dollars, or barter goods."

"Well, it seems I've no further use for my rifle. Would you take it in trade?"

"Hmm. We don't usually trade low-tech products of this nature, but for food and water I think we can make a deal."

"Just before you take it," interrupted Marie, "Can you attach the scope onto the beam rifle?"

"Easily."
The merchant pulled what looked like a pen from his white jacket. Applying it to the base of the scope, he severed it with sparks from the rifle. Using the same tool, welded it to the top of the beam rifle, quickly looking though it.

"Attached and centred. Nice doing business with you."

Marie bade good day to the merchant and her faithful infiltrator. She headed to the river, where boats of all types were docked, offloading crates and passengers. Weaving through the crowd, she spotted a sign reading "The District." Approaching it, she felt a hand on her shoulder.
"Want a lift to The District, do you?" asked a gangly, bearded man. "My ship runs tech and discoveries back and forth between The Commonwealth and The District. If you want to come with me back down south, I'm afraid it'll cost you."

"I don't have any Credits, or Dollars."

"Then that's a problem. If you can't provide currency, you'll have to provide a service."

"A service? You can forget it. I've seen what men bargain for."

The ferryman was confused for a moment, before a look of disgust spread across his face.
"No, no, no, no, no! No! I don't know where you're from, but that's not how things work in The Commonwealth - or The District. What I meant was, a service in aid of my business. That scoped beam rifle of yours looks a like it could do some damage...even if you look a bit wet behind the ears. Or ear."

"Mercenary work?"

"Such a vulgar term. No, protection duties in exchange for a trip to The District. Well, nearly to The District."

"I'm listening."

"My vessel is of solid construction, although even the USS Constitution has her limits. I need to keep fairly close to the coast, or waterspouts will capsize us in deep water. But too close to the shore, and we're raided by any number of barbarian states looking to take my ship and look our cargo."

"Scylla and Charybdis," said Marie.

"Indeed," replied the ferryman, impressed. "We've no chance against Charybdis, so I need you to keep Scylla at bay."

"If you can get me to The District, you've got a deal."

"Excellent. We depart for The District tomorrow. Get that ear of yours seen to, it looks painful."

Love your story so far, with one complaint.

The Commonwealth is too advanced for my taste. From what I gathered from FO3, they're a bunch of bloated egos who can crank out the occasional fancy toy. I'd give you G1-01, but self repairing weapons, nanites, and a tamed wasteland. You give them far too much credit.

Still...Its not like I'll stop reading your story over the issue. I don't consider myself a person angered by such petty disagreements. There are enough people like that as it is. Lets see how Marie's little escort job goes. ^_^

I'd agree, but remember that the story is set twenty years after the events of Fallout 3 (specifically, 20 years after the events of The Pitt). In 2277 The Commonwealth has technology The Capital Wasteland can only dream of; not only fully functional androids of various configurations, but also Wired Reflexes, Lipoplasticators, Micro Dermal Graftilizers, Circuit Neuralizers. A3-21 states that "Perhaps it’s the daily struggle for life here which gives appreciation for life in general, whether human, or android," suggesting that even in 2277 life is far easier in The Commonwealth (or at least The Institute) than The Capital Wasteland.

I'll have the next chapter up fairly soon. Thanks for reading!

Marie spent a restless night nursing her ear in a local board-house, the pain keeping her from sleep. A dose of Med-X relieved the stinging, but did nothing for her insomnia. The next morning, her eyelids heavy and fighting the impulse to yawn, she boarded the Constitution. The ship had seen better days. Her masts has been lost long ago, tattered pieces of rotting rigging littered the deck. Plates of sheet metal had been welded to the hull, keeping the wooden vessel together. Two propeller motors had been fitted to either side of the stern, providing locomotion despite the loss of her sails.

"A beauty, isn't she? Old Ironside," proudly proclaimed the ferryman. "I found her hull laying on the banks of the Charles River, in bad shape. Took months of work to make her seaworthy again, but she was worth it...even if she isn't exactly looking her best."

"If it can take me to The District, I don't care what it looks like," Marie replied. "So, I know the name of the ship. What do I call you?"

"Captain Hartt, of the U.S.S. Constitution, at your service," replied the ferryman, snapping off a mock salute. "In her day the Constitution must have been a powerful warship, but the years haven't been kind to her. The cannons are...not in working order. The good news, we've got you and that pop-gun of yours. The other captains report no significant pirate activity down south, so should be an easy ride if we can avoid sea spouts. Our cargo is loaded. You ready to go."

"When you are, Captain."

Hartt jogged to the back of the ship, kneeling to operate a terminal built into the deck. The engines chugged into life, slowly backing the ship clumsily out of dock. Marie braced herself to absorb the awkward jerks of a patched-up centuries old ship, much to the amusemant of the captain. The android denizens of The Commonwealth watched dispassionately as the ship exited the harbour, navigating past the myriad dead islands of the bay. Within the hour, The Commonwealth was enshrouded in mists as the Constitution sailed south. Marie diligently stood guard with her Plasma Beam rifle, although she sure tired of the duty. Hoping to see the sights of the East Coast, she found herself confronted by miles of lifeless, rocky coast.

Hours passed. The ship rounded Cape Cod, now another desolate shoreline.
"Martha's Vineyard," Hartt pointed at the upcoming land.

"Who's Martha?" asked Marie.

"No idea. There aren't any vines there either, come to think of it. An odd bunch, but friendly enough if you've got something to barter and know the lingo."

"They have their own language?"

"Well, yes and no. They're all deaf - you need to learn their sign language to have any hope of communication. New arrivals take a compulsory class on it, or are asked to leave. I know a bit." Hartt made a few quick hand gestures, straining to remember. "That means 'Nice to meet you', I think. Either that or 'Your prices are an insult'."
Marie nodded and yawned, struggling to stay awake.
"They not teach you any manners in The Pitt? I'm sorry that my stories bore you. Tell you what, you get some kip. They'll be no pirates out here, the islands out here don't take kindly to outsiders causing trouble."

The captain continue to talk as Marie drifted off, clutching her rifle. She found herself in a light, dreamless sleep, and was seemingly shook out of it almost immediately.
"Wake up, sleeping beauty," Hartt yelled. "I want you and your rifle awake for this run."

"What is it? Are we there yet?"

"Not quite. We're coming up to the New York Bight."

"New York?" blinked Marie.