Fallout Fan Fiction: A HoloDisk Tale.
[Thanks to “DarkLegacy” for the original concept and idea.]
==HoloDisk Entry – 11th October, 2242. Time: 1343.
<Recording starts> Eight fucking hours in this Virtibird, eight long slow hours, and for what? Our mission was classified as being “Top Priority” by the brass. En route to the mission the Commander dropped us a few hints, he always liked to play mind games with the squad, telling us little snippets of information, not enough to get the whole picture but enough to know a little bit more on why we were doing what we were doing.
“We’re collecting the rest of the Vault 13 Survivors.” He had said, this instantly set my mind working; I had been there when they had opened the vault, we had captured or ‘pacified’ everyone there so how there could be more survivors I don’t know. Perhaps there was a back door to the vault we didn’t find? The only logical conclusion I could come up with is- *muttering in the back round* …Wha? Broken free? Godda-<Recording stops>
<Recording starts> Damn fool Smith didn’t even attach the cuffs properly. Where was I… Oh yes. The only logical conclusion I could come up with is that some of the vault dwellers had left the vault prior to our arrival. I was right in thinking so, when we got to our destination the back cargo door swung down, I held my Laser Rifle ready to kick ass. Then the commander went all serious, as he does, when he’s giving us our orders.
“Kill anything that fights back, capture as many as possible.” I was looking forward to the action after the eight hour flight, the squad piled out of the craft, all of us ready for action and a good fight, we could have a raider camp, or even a larger gang. I was hoping for some real action, like a group of bandits that had got there hands on some energy weapons that might actually be able to hurt us. But no, I step off the ramp and take my first look at our objective, fucking ‘tribals’. I was gutted, nothing they could do could possible even scratch advanced power armour and worse still, they didn’t know it. I made my way into the center of the village, Airoya or Arayo I think it was called, some stupid tribal gibberish, anyway. I walked right into the village, hoping that at least one of them might have a small firearm or at least a cruddy pipe rifle, nope. A hail of rocks began bouncing off my chest plate. One particularly stupid tribal rushed me with a spear raised above he head. He lunged at me, I swung my arm once and the spear broke from his grip, swinging back again I broke his neck with the force of the blow. To my amazement the rest of the tribe followed in his example, even though they saw the consequences. Most of the grunts of the tribe began rushing at my squad with spears and the occasional knife. It was almost fun at first to kick and punch them so hard they flew through the air. Then the commander gave us shit over the radio, saying we were to capture as many as possible. They didn’t hold out long, we killed a few more of them, I personally got my kicks by stamping by armored foot through one of there chests, his ribs caved in under the weight and force of my foot. Watching him cough up blood all over his own face made me smile. Its almost scary that such graphic violence gives me kicks like that but I guess its just what the Enclave has evolved to be. Anyway we loaded up most of the Tribals into the Vertibirds, cuffed and unconscious, the Commander ordered the knockout gas released because these damn fool club thumpers just wouldn’t lie down. What a boring mission, thinking about it now its still a mystery to me why the brass would order such a resource consuming mission for a bunch of fucking tribals! Apparently there village was founded by some of the Vault 13 personnel and the science team want to do tests on them. To hell if I care, I don’t know why the Brass doesn’t just release that poison gas they got stored up right now, anything that survives the gas won’t survive out laser shots. Well… no the brass probably knows what they are doing they have been doing it far many more years than me, me being only 21. Born and raised on the Enclave Oil Rig. It’s a good job the Brass knows what there doing because the President can’t tell his arse from his elbow… < Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 12th October, 2242. Time: 0821
<Recording starts> Well we spent the night at Navarro, this place is heaven compared to the Rig and it’s a damn nice change of scenery, fair enough that all there is around for miles is an old Gas station and a radiated forest but it’s a damn sight better that the steel walls of the Rig. As soon as we landed the commander gave to order to leave the prisoners where they were, our squad got off the Virtibird and another squad instantly got on. Moments later they took off, from the direction they were heading I can only assume they were heading to the rig. The Brass must really want those club thumpers bad. Apparently we stay here another night and then we get new orders. We have each been designated quarters and have all been issued with standard Combat Armour fatigues for when we are off duty. The Sergeant of this base is a right hard ass, ‘Yes sir, No sir, three bags full sir’ all day long while we stand at our posts making sure no one is going to steal the Vertibirds parked right in front of us… We’re in the middle of no where, the chance that anyone is going to find this base let alone someone who can pilot a chopper is so- RAAH, I hate the damn babysitting jobs. I guess the Enclave have to protect there assets but I say the turrets on the outer perimeter can do that! Damn, I have patrol again in five minuets, I better get ready.. <Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 13th October, 2242. Time: 0943
<Recording starts> I don’t believe it, we have to stay here, at Navarro for another week! The commander broke the news this morning at squad-brief. It may look a lot better that the Rig but its boring here… there’s no gym, no bar, there’s barley a kitchen for fuck sake. And the chef, granted he tries his best, can’t make much out of dead rat and mole rat. If were lucky we get the specialty of recycled ration packs. I suppose on the upside the social life is better, on the Rig it gets a bit claustrophobic sometime but out here there’s space, and if you want you can volunteer for a perimeter patrol, it’s good to have a walk now and then, clear the mind in the musty dull air of the wastes. The wasteland air almost seems comforting after breathing nothing but regulated air most of your life. Plus there’s this damn cute girl posted outside the mainframe area… I think she’s dating one of the egg heads though. Snookie, or something like that, is the nickname he has for her, I was in there the other day, getting the latest Virtibird upgrades from the mainframe, I noticed that was the password he used to login with, what a fucktard, anyone on the base could hack into the main Enclave network, the first thing they are going to think of is his bitches nick name, him being the head technician and all. I have a close combat training regime with the Quartermaster in fifteen minuets, I’m a Close Combat Specialist Level 7 at the moment, the highest in my squad by far, the Quartermaster is level 8, I think that’s why I have been posted to this training session, I think he wants to try me out, me being ‘fresh blood’ and all. That should be a laugh and I need something to lift my spirits at the moment…*click*………*shuffling of clothing*……......Oop, still on are we. <Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 14th October, 2242. Time: 1245
<Recording starts>Wow what a fun day I had yesterday, the Quartermaster was a damn good fighter, I could see why he had advanced to Level 8 so quickly, we had a good time tossing and tumbling in the training room, we even got a little crowd gather around and it was all in good spirits, I got a few bumps, cuts and bruises but I dished out a few as well… good news, He has promoted me to Level 8 as well! Wo-hoo! Now I have the base qualifications to apply to be one of Frank Horrigan’s special agent sidemen, working with Sergeant Stone and such. It gets better, there’s a party tonight in the mess… apparently it’s the base commanders Birthday *laughter in the background* as you can hear spirits are high, there’s going to be booze and women a plenty tonight in the mess. *general male chatter and joking in the back ground* Oh yea- Woops, I’m gonna have to make this a qu-ick one, the battery is alm-mos-st ou-t *static* th-ere it go-<Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 15th October, 2242. Time: 0823
<Recording starts> Ooooh.. my head, I am so hung over, what an amazing night, what worries me is that I work up lying next to the base commander! I swear I didn’t know it was here before she took me to her quarters. She had me sneak out in the morning and said that if I told anyone she would bust me down to her personal foot stool. What a DAMN good lay though, hooo, man she certainly has some assets. The party was amazing, the commander really got hammered I think she’s going to spend most of today in her quarters resting it off. Lucky for her, I have patrol now, I have to walk about 10 miles hung over.. I am not going to enjoy this. <Recording Stops>
[Thanks to “DarkLegacy” for the original concept and idea.]
==HoloDisk Entry – 11th October, 2242. Time: 1343.
<Recording starts> Eight fucking hours in this Virtibird, eight long slow hours, and for what? Our mission was classified as being “Top Priority” by the brass. En route to the mission the Commander dropped us a few hints, he always liked to play mind games with the squad, telling us little snippets of information, not enough to get the whole picture but enough to know a little bit more on why we were doing what we were doing.
“We’re collecting the rest of the Vault 13 Survivors.” He had said, this instantly set my mind working; I had been there when they had opened the vault, we had captured or ‘pacified’ everyone there so how there could be more survivors I don’t know. Perhaps there was a back door to the vault we didn’t find? The only logical conclusion I could come up with is- *muttering in the back round* …Wha? Broken free? Godda-<Recording stops>
<Recording starts> Damn fool Smith didn’t even attach the cuffs properly. Where was I… Oh yes. The only logical conclusion I could come up with is that some of the vault dwellers had left the vault prior to our arrival. I was right in thinking so, when we got to our destination the back cargo door swung down, I held my Laser Rifle ready to kick ass. Then the commander went all serious, as he does, when he’s giving us our orders.
“Kill anything that fights back, capture as many as possible.” I was looking forward to the action after the eight hour flight, the squad piled out of the craft, all of us ready for action and a good fight, we could have a raider camp, or even a larger gang. I was hoping for some real action, like a group of bandits that had got there hands on some energy weapons that might actually be able to hurt us. But no, I step off the ramp and take my first look at our objective, fucking ‘tribals’. I was gutted, nothing they could do could possible even scratch advanced power armour and worse still, they didn’t know it. I made my way into the center of the village, Airoya or Arayo I think it was called, some stupid tribal gibberish, anyway. I walked right into the village, hoping that at least one of them might have a small firearm or at least a cruddy pipe rifle, nope. A hail of rocks began bouncing off my chest plate. One particularly stupid tribal rushed me with a spear raised above he head. He lunged at me, I swung my arm once and the spear broke from his grip, swinging back again I broke his neck with the force of the blow. To my amazement the rest of the tribe followed in his example, even though they saw the consequences. Most of the grunts of the tribe began rushing at my squad with spears and the occasional knife. It was almost fun at first to kick and punch them so hard they flew through the air. Then the commander gave us shit over the radio, saying we were to capture as many as possible. They didn’t hold out long, we killed a few more of them, I personally got my kicks by stamping by armored foot through one of there chests, his ribs caved in under the weight and force of my foot. Watching him cough up blood all over his own face made me smile. Its almost scary that such graphic violence gives me kicks like that but I guess its just what the Enclave has evolved to be. Anyway we loaded up most of the Tribals into the Vertibirds, cuffed and unconscious, the Commander ordered the knockout gas released because these damn fool club thumpers just wouldn’t lie down. What a boring mission, thinking about it now its still a mystery to me why the brass would order such a resource consuming mission for a bunch of fucking tribals! Apparently there village was founded by some of the Vault 13 personnel and the science team want to do tests on them. To hell if I care, I don’t know why the Brass doesn’t just release that poison gas they got stored up right now, anything that survives the gas won’t survive out laser shots. Well… no the brass probably knows what they are doing they have been doing it far many more years than me, me being only 21. Born and raised on the Enclave Oil Rig. It’s a good job the Brass knows what there doing because the President can’t tell his arse from his elbow… < Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 12th October, 2242. Time: 0821
<Recording starts> Well we spent the night at Navarro, this place is heaven compared to the Rig and it’s a damn nice change of scenery, fair enough that all there is around for miles is an old Gas station and a radiated forest but it’s a damn sight better that the steel walls of the Rig. As soon as we landed the commander gave to order to leave the prisoners where they were, our squad got off the Virtibird and another squad instantly got on. Moments later they took off, from the direction they were heading I can only assume they were heading to the rig. The Brass must really want those club thumpers bad. Apparently we stay here another night and then we get new orders. We have each been designated quarters and have all been issued with standard Combat Armour fatigues for when we are off duty. The Sergeant of this base is a right hard ass, ‘Yes sir, No sir, three bags full sir’ all day long while we stand at our posts making sure no one is going to steal the Vertibirds parked right in front of us… We’re in the middle of no where, the chance that anyone is going to find this base let alone someone who can pilot a chopper is so- RAAH, I hate the damn babysitting jobs. I guess the Enclave have to protect there assets but I say the turrets on the outer perimeter can do that! Damn, I have patrol again in five minuets, I better get ready.. <Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 13th October, 2242. Time: 0943
<Recording starts> I don’t believe it, we have to stay here, at Navarro for another week! The commander broke the news this morning at squad-brief. It may look a lot better that the Rig but its boring here… there’s no gym, no bar, there’s barley a kitchen for fuck sake. And the chef, granted he tries his best, can’t make much out of dead rat and mole rat. If were lucky we get the specialty of recycled ration packs. I suppose on the upside the social life is better, on the Rig it gets a bit claustrophobic sometime but out here there’s space, and if you want you can volunteer for a perimeter patrol, it’s good to have a walk now and then, clear the mind in the musty dull air of the wastes. The wasteland air almost seems comforting after breathing nothing but regulated air most of your life. Plus there’s this damn cute girl posted outside the mainframe area… I think she’s dating one of the egg heads though. Snookie, or something like that, is the nickname he has for her, I was in there the other day, getting the latest Virtibird upgrades from the mainframe, I noticed that was the password he used to login with, what a fucktard, anyone on the base could hack into the main Enclave network, the first thing they are going to think of is his bitches nick name, him being the head technician and all. I have a close combat training regime with the Quartermaster in fifteen minuets, I’m a Close Combat Specialist Level 7 at the moment, the highest in my squad by far, the Quartermaster is level 8, I think that’s why I have been posted to this training session, I think he wants to try me out, me being ‘fresh blood’ and all. That should be a laugh and I need something to lift my spirits at the moment…*click*………*shuffling of clothing*……......Oop, still on are we. <Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 14th October, 2242. Time: 1245
<Recording starts>Wow what a fun day I had yesterday, the Quartermaster was a damn good fighter, I could see why he had advanced to Level 8 so quickly, we had a good time tossing and tumbling in the training room, we even got a little crowd gather around and it was all in good spirits, I got a few bumps, cuts and bruises but I dished out a few as well… good news, He has promoted me to Level 8 as well! Wo-hoo! Now I have the base qualifications to apply to be one of Frank Horrigan’s special agent sidemen, working with Sergeant Stone and such. It gets better, there’s a party tonight in the mess… apparently it’s the base commanders Birthday *laughter in the background* as you can hear spirits are high, there’s going to be booze and women a plenty tonight in the mess. *general male chatter and joking in the back ground* Oh yea- Woops, I’m gonna have to make this a qu-ick one, the battery is alm-mos-st ou-t *static* th-ere it go-<Recording stops>
==HoloDisk Entry – 15th October, 2242. Time: 0823
<Recording starts> Ooooh.. my head, I am so hung over, what an amazing night, what worries me is that I work up lying next to the base commander! I swear I didn’t know it was here before she took me to her quarters. She had me sneak out in the morning and said that if I told anyone she would bust me down to her personal foot stool. What a DAMN good lay though, hooo, man she certainly has some assets. The party was amazing, the commander really got hammered I think she’s going to spend most of today in her quarters resting it off. Lucky for her, I have patrol now, I have to walk about 10 miles hung over.. I am not going to enjoy this. <Recording Stops>
