New Vegas: Blood Ties

Tom grasped the bottle, sniffing the bottle, "Fuck, what is this?", he took a second sniff, "Is..is this piss?", Tom twisted his face at Pawnsy, smirking at the doctor's ingenuity, "Is it best I don't ask". Tom sat himself up against a wall, pulling the bottle to his face just as he starting coughing his flem out of his mouth, "Bottom's up Pawnsy!", he drank most of it in one go, his face distorted more and more, as more rancid liquid poured down his throat.

He pulled the empty bottle away from his face, and had began to break into a coughing fit, as he threw the empty bottle half way across the desolate room. "David, I bet you, 10 caps, that I don't puke this shit back up", Tom started to chuckle as he leantfurther back, so he was essentially lying on a drug covered, pissed on floor.
 
Pawnsy laughed at his reaction "At least you caught on,most people just drink and spit it out later,tell you the truth it's Midas' milk,some herbs,and a pinch of piss quite a good recipe in a pinch. Anyway you better give me those caps that stuff's mean't to make you throw up,take this as well." He handed Tom the root "Eat this after you puke or else you'll just puke it up."

(Oops just noticed I had a double post)
 
At Pawnsy's insistence of imminent puking, Jacob took the time to leave the area. Before bailing however, he handed the two shots of Jet to Pawnsy. "Settlement." Jacob explained, then exited into the hallway. He hoped the commotion being caused by Tom's affliction would let him slip away from the rest of the group unnoticed. He made his way back to the stairwell, then turned to GU-DR.
"Got anything for me?" Jacob asked.
"Yes sir. I was able to salvage some ammo from the dead fiends." The robot replied, and produced semi-full 10mm pistol clips, a fullness Jacob soon fixed. He emptied the clips and tossed them aside, and taking out his own empty smg clips and began pushing the bullets inside with the smooth motions of someone who is well practiced. He managed to fill one clip entirely and topped off the clip that was currently in the gun. He chuckled to himself in his moment of privacy.
"Sarge would be oh so proud." Jacob mused, recalling his time in what only barely deserved to be called boot camp. He looked up the stairs towards the third floor. "C'mon rustbucket, let's go see what there is to see." Jacob said, and headed up the stairs with GU-DR in tow.
 
David smiled as Tom made a joke.
"Your on, I need the money. If I lose, I'm going to do some more merc jobs, so you might have to wait a bit."
He checked to see how much ammo his pistol had. It was fully loaded. There were no fiends left, but they still had to make the trip back.
 
With the ghoul attending to Tom and Jacob nowhere to be found, Eric decided to rummage through more dead fiends. He eventually came out with a key ring, an issue of Guns & Ammo that was carelessly thrown behind a desk, and a pack of condoms.

By now the commotion over Tom had faded and so Eric moved back, found a rock to sharpen his knives, and began to whittle away.
 
Jacob came out on the third floor of the building, holding the stairwell door open for GU-DR. He let the door close behind the robot and began poking around the rooms. He found an office that had an in tact computer terminal. Inactive but not smashed either, he sat down in front of it and tried the power to no avail, then tried again out of spite. He reached across his back and put his recharger rifle on the table, and proceeded to remove the microfusion breeder held within. He placed the now dead rifle aside for the time being, and took a screwdriver to the back of the terminal.

"Sir, may I ask what you hope to achieve?" The robot inquired.

"Just keeping in practice Denny." Jacob responded, continuing to fiddle away with the casing, then the innards of the terminal. He wired the breeder into the computer's power cell to give it a boost, and this time when he tried the power the screen flickered to life. The terminal wasn't protected with a password, and considering the garbage that was it's contents that wasn't surprising. Just some pre-war shipping manifests.
 
Tried of just sitting around, Eric decided to poke around the other rooms and see if he could find something the other folks missed. The silence was un-nerving as he moved down the hall and stumbled upon the interrogation room. There wasn't much around besides a radio, some rope and a letter, and a military grade pack, HIS pack.

"Garl, I want you to babysit this prisoner until I return. Make sure NO HARM comes to this man you understand? Otherwse, you and your junkies get jack shit. For your part, I will throw in some extra drugs on top of your usual order. Don't fuck this up."

Opening his pack, Erics fears were confirmed. The map, keycard and computer core were all missing.

"Need to get a message to Greifswald ASAP"
 
Brad soon got bored and stood up. The dog got up as well and started following him. He entered random rooms and proceeded to open every desk, locker, and bag he could find. They contained mostly food and drugs. He grabbed a box of potato crisps and a bottle of Nuka Cola from one and stuck it in his bag.

Eventually, he entered a room that looked like an armory at first, but just had a table with a broken caravan shotgun and some 10mm magazines on it. He stuck the magazines in compartments on his belt for easy reloading.

Finding nothing, he went back to one of the rooms containing food. He grabbed some brahmin meat, a bottle of pure water, and a bowl. He then walked back to the room Pawnsy, David, and Tom were in.

"Anyone got a way I can heat up this meat? I'm not sure if it's a good idea to give it to Sarge raw."
 
As everyone went back to work scaving the building James took the opportunity to sit down with his gun and started reassembling it. After a little while he had it back in working order with its scope and silencer attached.
"I can worry about re-equipping my other mods later..." James mumbled to himself.
After checking he had at least 2 clips ready to go and one in the gun he called out to the others.

"Hey! What happened to the other two who were with your group? Should they be leaving the group and going off on their own? One of them looked pretty beat up."

Someone in the room: "That's Yas our, for lack of a better term, leader. If you haven't already guessed she can take care of herself and she has her brother with her it's not like they could get in to any trouble."

James: "Okay I'm gonna go check out this building, you know get the lay of the place."

James headed off in the direction that the man with the Mr. Gutsy had headed, what was his name again? Oh, yeah someone called him Jacob.

It didn't take long for James to track down the sounds of the Mr. Gutsty's propulsion system after he headed that way. He watched in silence as Jacob worked on a damaged console and got it running again. This guy knew his stuff.

"Impressive. It's not often you see someone with that much talent with computers. Even more interesting still you have a fully functional Mr. Gutsty, you even set yourself up as a user and gave the unit a new designation. That takes skill and training, two things you don't often find in the wastleland. My name's James Taylor, it's a pleasure to meet ya."
 
Tom's stomach starting turning as the milky piss hit it, and hit it hard. "Jesus", Tom fell onto his side from his kneeling position, he could feel it ready to come back up, but he was a man of pride, and a 10 cap bet was going to try and keep him from spewing it out.
 
David smiles and kneels beside Tom."I can feel the bottle caps in my pocket already", he joked, and stood up and stepped back, to make sure Tom didn't vomit on his shoes.
 
Jacob looked up from his work to see one of the prisoner's had stumbled upon him working on the computer. What's more the prisoner seemed to recognize the skill and craftsmanship required to get GU-DR to do as told. As far as first impressions go, Jacob was pleased.
"Glad to see someone recognizes talent when they see it." He said, and stood up from the desk, retrieving the MC breeder and watching as the computer faded once more. He replaced it within the recharger rifle and slung it across his back. He strode over to James and extended a hand. "The name's Jacob. Jacob Smith."
 
Pawnsy sighed before throwing 10 or so caps in front of Tom's writhing body "Take these caps or hold it in till your stomach sends everything the other way I don't care,I have better things to do than watch you puke." Pawnsy walked down a hallway hoping the next room he searches will have what he wants,but the chances of a shitty building like this having prototype military grade medicine is probably 1000-1.
 
Eric had no idea if the fiend base was or how close it was to NCR command. If he was lucky, there might be a comm unit that could piggy back his signal to Greifswald.

'To any NCR communication unit within range, relay message to Command Blue. Recon fail, possible BA, total equipment loss. Awaiting reponse.'
 
"Pleasure to meet you Jacob, my name James Taylor and I run a small caravan for hire."

James held his hand out and shook Jacobs hand. In that moment he could tell this man had power armor training.
But was he a friend or foe?

"So where did you learn those kind of skills? I learned most of mine from growing up in a vault, and what I didn't learn there I learned from when I worked with the Followers of the Apocalypse."
 
After a few minutes of waiting, Erics radio crackled to life.

'Command Blue has recieved message. Copy 5, 6, 5, 9'

'Thats a negative, current situation requires additional attention.'

Clipping the radio to his belt and with duffel in hand, Eric headed back towards the others to see if the situation had changed much.
 
Jacob recited his well practiced lie in response to James' question.
"A vault dweller? You must have come from a successful one if the rumors of the experimentation are true. As for my skills, I hail from the Chicago wastes, and my tribe held onto knowledge of the old word within the walls of the University there, so I have roughly the equivalent of a PhD in robotics." Jacob said, waving a hand in GU-DR's direction. "Most of the robots encountered nowadays are far beyond their normal operational period, and persistent glitches within programming loops that when combined with the over extension of activity result in cascading failure of primary cognitive functions. What most people don't realize is that most robots would have had a lifespan of about ten years before being permanently shut down and recycled for parts. It's been over 200 for every robot built before the Great War. They've all essentially gone senile." Jacob said, before realizing that he had begun to ramble. He rubbed his forehead and smirk crept across his face. "Sorry, I don't imagine you really understand much of that. Ever since leaving Chicago I haven't really been able to discuss such things with others. The only possible candidates for such things are limited mostly to the Brotherhood, and God knows they just care about weaponizing everything."
 
Eric made his way back to where the ghoul doctor and some of the others were.

'Hey guys I am afraid we got some potential good/bad news. I found my radio in the interrogation room and radio'd back to NCR. Judging from the area of my transmission and scout reports, theres going to be a group of hostiles in the area. Whether these guys are the same folks who interrogated me or not, I don't know. However, I think it might be prudent to prepare a welcome party for them'
 
"The truth is my vault failed. The thing was meant to be a death trap, only the trap never worked correctly and so we were saved the doom that befell other vaults."

"And I get what your saying, it's always harder to find functional components then it is to find a decent shell. Most everything is either fried or just burnt out over time and most code you find on devices needs to be completely rewritten to even go to any use."

James scratched his chin thinking things over.

"Yeah the Brotherhood is a pretty nasty piece of work. At least the ones I've met. They see any sign of technology, particularly weapons tech, and they think it's their right to hold you at gun point and ransack your stuff."

If this guy isn't Brotherhood there's only one other place I know of that he could have received power armor training...

"So, if your pretty well traveled you must spend a lot of down time messing with electronics to keep yourself in practice. Do you ever search the radio frequencies at night? Every now and then you can catch old world jargon on the different radio frequencies. Now what was that one I heard the other night again... Oh yeah. Does the eagle still fly? You ever heard that? Know what it means?"

This was a blatant lie. There was no radio frequency broadcasting such a code. But if this man was who James thought he was he would pick up on the old enclave code immediately and then James would know if he was an ally. If he didn't know the phrase would mean nothing, just a caravaneers rambling.
 
Tom slunk down toards the floor, staring at the 10 caps prize in front of him, "Damn, David...you ain't getting what I have left", his stomach felt like someone stabbed him, stuffed him full of shit, and punched him right back in the stomach, it started coming up his throat.

He started punching the floor, "Arrrrrr, damn, this shit hurts", he started clambering towards a bucket in the corner of the room, he could smell what was in the bucket, but it didn't bother Tom.
 
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