New Vegas: Blood Ties

Yasmin frowned as he just stood there. “Um…sit down. Relax, if possible.” She then turned her head to look at Tom.

“Twats? Really? And can you claim a squeaky clean background, sir? I agree, Raiders are something alright. But Fiends are little more than animals. All the chems in their system have left them without any rationality or control. I don’t know how they can even figure out how to work their guns. That’s why so many carry poles.”

Yasmin truly hated Fiends. Too often they got confused with Raiders, and she took that as an insult. A Fiend was a Raider that had fallen to drugs and lost their humanity to the urge to destroy and get another hit. She might not be the best person, but she was in control of herself and was still a human. The most human thing Fiends did in her eyes was remember not to kill the Khans that supplied them with their chems. Apart from that, it was nothing but spreading and killing and raping. They were scum to her.
 
Mark sat, legs crossed, he thought about what his friend told him and let his mind wonder for a second, he remembered the last time he saw Carib's wife:

"Alright, intelligence wants to send a patrol to sneak across the dam, there has been a lot of Legion movement and they want to know what they're up to. The Lieutenant wants four volunteers to go with him... <sigh> Perez, Stanton, Merkel and... Smith, you just volunteered."

"Sergeant, I'd like to volunteer..."

"... Forget it, I already chose. You stay here with me."

"Permission to speak Sergeant."

"<sigh>... Granted Corporal."

"Sergeant they are the fresh replacements, they have no experience... maybe I should go..."

"Maybe you should shut up, instead of second guessing me Corporal."

"Is this because of him?"

"I just don't want you on that patrol, that's all."

"The Lieutenant smells like perfumed soap and the replacements have no experience, they need someone with experience and you know it..."

"Everyone is unexperienced, Katja, and I can't spare... <sighs> right, fine. Smith, you stay here. Ok, now you four leave your packs here, grab only what you need, take some grenades and go see the Lieutenant."
 
Carib remembered his last mission, hacking the marked Fiends to death and strangling a younger one who looked so unfocused and doped, it was probably akin to drowning a puppy. He did wonder how terrifying he had looked in his full gear, the red lenses of the desert mask stairing down without hope or mercy.

"Fiends are scum... the Khans are a step up. They're rough, but that's because life in the wastelands is rough. But the difference being is, if Khans find a better way, they don't hurt people. Fiends don't care. Some raider clans, like the vipers see that feeding off their fellow man is so easy, why do anything else? If the Khans put far more effort into making helpful chems, they'd be set.

Mind you, I have no love for the Khans.
" He pointed towards the scar on his face, and made a tapped gesture to his side "but when they can do better and not raid; they tend to behave. After Bittersprings, I think the joke of rivalry was stretched. NCR feels guilty for not being the good guys and the Khans pushed too far and too hard. I have never been back East, but I am sure David and Tom here have seen their fair share of low raider clans. But I have learned thing about people. Desperation is a powerful driving force."
 
While everyone else is talking, Mark remains lost in his thoughts:

That day his squad was ordered to climb down the cliff that led to the river that ran from the dam, there were reports of Legion there, and command feared they may try to sneak trough there and into the dam, maybe even using explosives to destroy the floating fence up the river in a critical moment.

His Sergeant was a women, Sergeant Kathryn Muelhoff, she had been with him at Camp Golf for a couple of years, but only recently Mark dared to express his feelings for her. He wished he had done it sooner, yet they would had probably sent them to different outfits if they found out they were having something, so they kept it as secret as they could. Muelhoff had blonde hair and blue eyes, but what Mark liked the most was her smile, whenever she looked at him and smiled Mark could swear he was floating in heaven.

Mark took his men up the river. Across the river they found a natural cave, and two cases of explosives that contained plastic explosives, mines, grenades and some scrap electronics, enough to create an effective improvised explosive device. The guy's at intelligence were right, but there was no Legion there, at least none in sight.

They kept going up river towards the dam hoping to find either the Legion or more traces of they being there, but they found either, and the cliffs looked pretty inaccessible, there was no thrace of them.

It was hot and the patrol had been walking for hours, so Mark allowed them to refresh and refill their canteens in the river. Mark and Kathryn stood first watch, when other two troopers relieved them they headed to the river. Mark refilled his Canteen and drank some more water, he then washed his face, as he was doing this he suddenly felt something warm and sticky hitting him on the face, he looks at his hands and sees blood, his face was covered in brains, as he looked to his right he stares in horror, Kathryn's beautiful face was now a bunch of goo on the ground.

Mark takes his rifle, but a bullet hits him in his forearm and makes him drop it, then a second bullet hits him on the leg, and drops him to the ground, he then crawls behind a rock. Before he could realize it, all his men were dead. Wounded, but only superficially, he takes a grenade, as the legionnaires approach to examine the bodies, he trows it in their direction. Without warning the grenade explodes, sending limbs and guts in all directions, a few legionnaires that were farther away are only stunned, Mark takes his pistol and fires at them, killing two, the third one manages to stand up and take aim at Mark, but his weapon was jammed, probably damaged in the explosion, Mark tries to shoot at him, but his magazine was empty, no time to reload, it's hand to hand now, Mark throws the pistol to the legionnaire and hits him in the face, this gives him time to take off his helmet and hit the legionnaire in his jaw with it, trowing him to the ground, as he does this the helmet flies off his hand, so he now takes his knife and repeatedly stabs his opponent.

When Mark comes back to self, he realizes he's been stabbing a dead boodie for a few seconds now, there was no need to continue. Mark is covered in blood, Legion, NCR and his own.
 
Tom looked at Yasmin, "Yeah they are twats, the fiends they're...they're even worse, they're cunts, which is a a couple of tiers worse in my mind, believe me if you've experienced what I have you'd know why they are all raider vareities are the most fucked up, cunt, twat, arsewipe, mother fucking bastards" Tom couldn't stress it enough, but he just realised he had burst out in the middle of the group.
 
David looked at the others and said,"Me and Tom might not have the nicest pasts, but we know what is right and what isn't. Raiders rape, murder, mutilate, pretty much do anything unpleasent. They might not be injecting jet into their arm and raping every girl that comes into their sight, but they help the people who do, and thats why they can burn in hell for all I care."
 
Tom gave a look to David which would of been made out as 'thanks mate for backing me up there', Tom in all honesty was a bit peeved at Yasmin for backing up raider, but yeah she has her own point of views and so does Tom.
 
Brad sat down, a small distance away from the others, and thoguht to himself.
'What were you expecting? Nobody likes raiders.'
 
Davids expression softened as he walked away from the group and he said to Brad,"Hey, I'm not saying I hate you, but you can't justify what they do. At least you've come with us."
 
"Yeah, and I've most likely sent those khans that you guys hate so much after us. It's all I've had on my mind since we left."
 
Damn, Tom had hated that Brad had brought up raiders, but hell he never knew Brad had a connection with the Khans, if Tom had knew he would have avoided calling them twats...but would have called them all the other names. He looked at David sitting next to Brad, obviously Brad was a bit depressed at what Tom had said.

Tom was starting to get slightly uncomfortable lying next to Yasmin so he got up and walked towards Brad. Tom crouched down next to Brad and looked at the ground, "Are you a khan? I'll be honest, I won't exactly be pleased that your one of them, but i'll live with it, after all your a colleague".
 
Leo squatted down, his knees cracking loudly as he rested on the jutting rock, slinging his Kar around his head, and throwing it gently onto the floor in a single motion. He unfastened his belt a notch, taking care to dust it off with his cuff, he was quite proud of his newfound pre-war buckle, and he spun his hat backwards, and slipped it down beside him, both of his newly aquired possesions had come from an unfortunate ranger.

He emptied his waist pouch, revealing a pack of crumpled and muddy cigarettes; he withdrew one, along with a match and, sparking against an adjacent stump, he lit up the cigarette.

---

Time elapsed, the sun began to set and bled the sky a distinct orange, Leo gripped his shovel, lowerd himself down the bank and into the freshly dug cave, he slid the woven door across, and began to dig deeper into his home.
 
Yasmin got a less than pleasant smirk on her face hearing the little rant about raiders. She pulled out a cigarette, lit it and leaned back, smoking. “Eh, whatever, I guess you’re right.” She said through the two plumes of smoke coming from her nostrils.
 
"A man or a woman may not be able to choose what womb he crawls out of. But we all have choices. And we all can find better ways. If pillaging and raping is the way, there will be consequences. Just as their are consequences for doing good and fighting the good fight." Carib's throat hurt from the speech. He was sure getting talkative.

Katja had often told Carib during their time together at Camp Gulf he hadn't spoken enough. The torture and crucifixion hadn't changed him. True he had almost died had it not been for her and Mark's timely rescue along the Colorado. Carib had passed all psych evalutations with flying colors. But perhaps he hadn't. Carib had developed a sociopathic need to destroy the wicked, especially Legionaries. Carib remembered ever kill, because he didn't want to forget. Katja had kept him afloat. Had provided love and purpose and perhaps someday a house with little ones. That dreamed died when her unit had been compromised. She was at some position overlooking a legion operation. A part of him suspected his wife and her comrades had been betrayed.

She had been a masterful stalker. No way she could have been followed. Whoever had sold them out, may whatever God or Gods be take them, because if Carib found out, it wouldn't be quick and quiet.

His awareness of the group staring at him prompted him out of his daze and he began to speak again, "After this quest is done, each will go his way. I hope when we do part ways, we part as comrades."
 
Tom was in a deep sleep now, he hadn't had one like this for at least three years, he was entering his little dreamworld again:

Tom was walking down a rusty metal corridor, barely any light pertruded through the ramshackle walls. A man of considerable age was walking alongside him, "Remember this guy is tough, but if he manages to miss you take him out while you can, the Legate will love it". Tom walked out the end of the corridor and looked up to the blinding sun, and looked back down at the man in front of him.

The man was of built like a brick shit-house, he charged at Tom. Tom rolled across the floor barely evading the mans beefy fist. Tom dived off the ground onto the mans back and pulled him down to the floor, quickly jumping off before he would be crushed by the mass of this brute.

Tom jumped up in the air preparing his knee, he rammed it into the brutes face, his nose exploding in a fury of blood. As the man choked on the blood which was now flowing down his throat, Tom pounded his face with his fists as fast as he could. The man's face was a mess now, Tom could barely tell where his eyes were. He was prepared for the killing blow.

Soldiers cheered round the pitt, shouting and craving death, but Tom only needed one man's word to the final act. Tom looked up at the Legate, the Legate looked back and nodded. Tom pulled his fist back as far as he could, and bam, right in the brutes adam's apple, he died instantly.

Tom got up from the ground and looked round for approval, everybody was cheering, "Limey! Limey! Limey!", everybody was either whistling, cheering or shouting in the glory of the fight. Tom looked up and Legate Graham was clapping, Tom hated to think about it, but he was slightly proud of what he had done, a couple more fights and Tom was free to go.
 
Yasmin looked over at Tom who was sleeping like a rock and started getting tired herself. She took off her jacket and used it as a blanket and her bag as a pillow, curling up in a ball with her back to the group and fire.

“I’ll take a watch during the night, somebody just wake me up.” She said to no one and everyone.

She stared out at dark wasteland and began to feel depressed. He was out there and she still hadn’t gotten to him. If she was alone, she would have travelled all through the night against reaching him, but a group has it’s setbacks as well as its advantages.

~Tomorrow.~ she promised herself. ~I’ll find you tomorrow.~

As her mind began to slip from conscious thoughts into that of dreams, the face of a handsome young man with a bright smile and dark hair swam in front of her mind’s eye, and a small smile twitched the corner of her mouth.
 
Brad moved a little closer to the fire and layed down.
Too often people made the mistake of thinking the fiends and khans were the same. The khans at least had the decency to not attack anyone on sight.
But then he really thought about the khans.
They fueled the fiends with drugs. They now associate with ceaser. Brad had no grudge against the NCR, but if he stayed, he'd be forced to side against them in a war. He'd be siding with brutality, oppression, and slavery. He'd likely get killed fighting for what he didn't believe in.
Then about him and the khans.
His only "friend" from the khans, Derick, would slaughter all off Brad's new companions and drag him to the military base.
Then about the military base.
They wanted his tech skills, which made him an outcast, to get the khans better weapons to fight against democracy.
He realised how late it was and decided he needed some sleep, so he slowly closed his eyes and fell asleep by the warmth of the fire...
 
The Ex-Ranger stared out into the dark and watched the the stars above head. He could follow the faint light that briefly illuminated the massive powerlines that have been dead two hundred years. He heard a coyote howl in the distance, heard other sounds. It was nice to hear signs of life. Carib hadn't ventured here. He usually stock to the Strip area. There was always work to be had, and Carib took some joy in preying on the Fiends that wandered around. A pity he never saw any of the big fish like Driver Nephi or Cook-Cook.

He thought more about the Khans and their role in creating or fueling the Fiends. The Khans had an interesting history, but looking at Brad, he really did see that not everyone was the same, no matter what rank or file they came from. Obviously he wasn't an ideal Khan due to his knowledge of electronics and computers; but Brad did have character. Carib could see it in his unguarded expression or the way he looked at Yasmin. He gave those doughy brahmin eyes.

He wondered what sort of technology was in store for them. And how many other factions were involved? Questions. Questions.

As he dwelled on those questions, he thought of his wife. Her hazel eyes and raven black hair. He remembered the tribal marks on her arms and the line on her face just on her cheek bone. She had been from the Arroyo. She had been beautiful as well as brave. He remembered seeing her when he was strung up on the cross, thinking he had died and had been delivered by an angel. He remembered her words that day, We never leave a Ranger behind. He remembered Mark and a small squad of NCR troopers. She hadn't been wearing the dark armor that day. She looked like an NCR regular, but he knew from her movements she was a Ranger.

They had made it across the River, Carib had been hurt, but not broken and had killed as many Legionaries as he could. When he healed up, he remembered seeing her at his bed side the NCR doctors were stabilizing him.

He remembered that smile. And when the memory faded, Carib felt the coldness of his heart take over and he vowed if he ever found those responsible he'd tear them apart. He would turn the sands of the wastes upside down if need be.
 
Tom opened his eye, most people were either asleep or pretending to be, with the exception of the sentry. Tom looked at Brad, 'I might teach him how to fight, maybe he'll not feel as shunned by me, wait, what the hell is happening to me, I never used to be this caring, while training him I could give him a run for his money, show what it feels to train properly, by the end he may have a few facial bruises, but he'll know how to fight at least'.

Tom shook Brad awake, ignoring the fact that he might enjoy his slumber.
"Brad, can you fight, like hand-to-hand, not fisticuffs, proper fighting, if you want, i'll show you the moves that helped me defeat the challengers in the pits I was in, I won't lie, you'll get hurt, but in the end, you'll be able to fight, and thats a big plus against a small negative".
 
Mark couldn't sleep well that night. He had nightmares that kept waking him up, sweating, thinking he was under attack only to see everything was quiet at the camp.

Mark knew Katja back from arroyo, they knew each other since they were kids, Mark descended from the vault dweller community of Vault-13, and Katja from the original Arroyo tribe. They signed up in the NCR army together, Katja applied for the Rangers and Mark for Officer Candidate School. When she volunteered to go on that recon patrol with him that faithful day, he felt comfortable knowing that he had a friend and an experienced Ranger watching his back. For Carib, Katja was his one tue love, for Mark, a life long friend, when she died, they both lost someone important in their lives.
 
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