Draconias Galactica
First time out of the vault
Back from beyond the board hickups, part 8 of something nobody has ever heard of! YAY!
***
In the wasteland, time passes by slowly. Even still, you can tell the
difference between night and day. The Shadowlands weren't much different,
except it was harder to tell day from night. One would have to live in
there a long time to tell it by instinct. Since Hawks wasn't planning on
staying in there very long, he relied on Jake's internal clock.
"What time is it?" Hawks asked.
"Time is imaginary, there is only now," said Jake, sounding as profound as
he could.
"Lovely. What time is it?"
"Check the position of the sun."
"There is no sun. There's big damn cloud. What am I supposed to do, check
the position of the clouds?"
"That's just stupid. You do that to check the seasons, not the time."
"Do you even have seasons?"
"We've been having fall for a few decades now."
"Great. How long's winter, 200 years?"
"Ask my grandkids, I'll be long dead before winter happens."
"And you'll be dead much sooner if I don't get the time soon! I want to
know when I can go to sleep!"
"Why can't you just go to sleep now?"
"I can't sleep during the day, all right? Now tell me what time it is!"
"Just check your damn PipBoy!!!" shouted Canine, speaking up from his
place in the cart. Hawks and Jake turned and stared at him.
"Leave it to a mutt to break up an intelligent conversation," muttered
Jake.
"Yeah, just when it was getting interesting." Canine shook his head as
best as a dog could and lied back down. Human behavior made little sense,
if any. "Anyways, my ass hurts."
"Your ass always hurts. Try walking." Hawks looked at the Shadowlands map
Jake transferred into his PipBoy. There was a green circle labeled
"Willistown" not far away, two or three miles at most. Zooming out, he
located Brons. It was still a few grids away, too far for Hawks's sore
rear.
"We're stopping at Willistown. I want to sit down and get something to
drink." Jake pulled out his canteen, and found it was practically empty.
"Might as well, I guess." The two turned their horses westward to detour
towards Willistown.
Vault 61 established Willistown near a pre-war mining site. The party that
was sent there expected to find survivors hiding in the mines, but there
was nothing there but some worn-down mining equipment. Willistown - nobody
remembers who Willis was - supplied Vault 61 with a slow but steady supply
of resources until 15 years ago, when the mine was shut down. There had
been too many deaths occurring to maintain a profit. Since then,
Willistown had been shifting from a mining town into a farming community.
There wasn't much in the town - just a few buildings, some potato patches,
and a brahmin pen. Unlike Crater Town or DRR, one could have seen the
whole town if it weren't for the low light of the Shadowlands.
"Okay, where's the bar?" asked Hawks.
"I don't know if they have one," Jake replied. "I haven't been here in a
year or two. All I remember is that there isn't much to this town." Hawks
dismounted his horse and walked back to the cart.
"Well?" Hawks asked, looking down at Canine.
"Is that all I am to you? A bar finder?"
"You're also back-up food," added Jake. Hawks lifted Canine out of the
cart and placed him on the ground. The dog closed his eyes. Hawks heard
the "wub, wub, wub" noise in his ears once more. Jake didn't notice
anything, though. Canine opened his eyes a few seconds later and started
walking.
"Follow me," muttered Canine as he went. "Lousy, non-psychic bipeds."
Hawks and Jake followed after the dog, bringing the horses with them.
The bar was a simple one-story building - none of the buildings in
Willistown were more than one floor - made of metal scraps. It looked like
a building that would have felt at home in Junktown, though nobody here
would have known that. The bar itself and the two small tables were all
nearly filled. As Hawks, Jake, and Canine entered, a few people looked up
long enough to glare at the outsiders before returning to their all-
important task of getting drunk.
"Popular place," observed Hawks.
"It's happy hour," Jake said.
"I can tell by all the pleasant faces." They walked up to the crowded bar
and sat down at the only available spots, at the bar's the edge.
A man in his early twenties, apparently the bartender, shouted from the
other side of the room. "Whatda ya want?"
"Up for a drinking contest," Jake asked Hawks.
"I told you, I'm through with booze. I still have a headache the size of
here to DRR."
"I thought you were kidding about that," stated Jake, surprised.
"We can always use water. First one to piss himself looses."
"Nah, it just wouldn't be the same." Jake shouted back to the bartender.
"Water, and something that isn't watered down!" He turned back to Hawks.
"If you could hold your liquor, we could have some fun."
"Last time we did that, _I_ won."
"You cheated. You spiked my drink."
"Bullshit. How do you spike whiskey, add more whiskey?"
"That wasn't whiskey, that was water with whiskey flavoring. Besides, you
had the dog piss in it."
"Why would you drink it then?"
"It's a matter of honor. Besides, there's no way I'll loose to a
dishonorable crap like you over a few drops of piss."
"Hate to tell you, but you passed out anyways."
"I wasn't there for that part."
"I'll say." The bartender came over with a near-empty bottle of vodka and
an old-looking canteen of something not dissimilar to water.
"It's thirty for the booze and ten for the water." Hawks and Jake both
grumbled about it being a rip-off, and dug the fee out of their coin bags.
The bartender grabbed his pay and walked back to the other side of the
room.
"This stuff tastes like shit," Hawks mumbled.
"Mine ain't much better. I think I remember why I haven't been here in a
few years." They both sat in silence for a while, finishing off their
drinks. Hawks dropped his canteen on the floor when it was nearing empty
and let Canine finish it off.
Something occurred to Hawks as he stared at his dog licking up the
'water'. "Hey."
"What?"
"The mine near this place, did these guys dig it?"
"Some of it, yeah." Jake realized what Hawks was thinking. "I don't think
the mining equipment still works."
"It might. Hell, it's better than nothing."
"Not by much. The mine got shut down because there were critters down
there that kept killing the miners. Nasty things from what I've heard."
"Yeah, well, I'm done with my drink and my ass is still to sore to start
riding again. Besides, it worked for no-nuts...maybe. He might have been
full of shit. But anyways, I'm gonna check it out."
"All right then, let's get moving."
"Huh?"
"I don't have anything better to do besides get drunk, and then we'd have
to hang around here overnight. So let's go."
"How about you?" Hawks asked Canine, looking down at the dog.
"No thanks. I'll be with the horses." Canine walked out as Hawks stood up.
"Think the horses will be alright with just him?"
"They have been before. C'mon."
***
The mine was, on the surface, just a big hole in the ground. Above it, a
wooden tripod held a rope that went down into the mine. It was too far
down to see the bottom. Jake kicked a stone lying near the entrance down
into the shaft. About seven seconds later, the stone clanked against the
ground.
"Damn," Jake muttered. "You sure you want to do this?"
"Nothing better to do, remember?" replied Hawks. He grabbed hold of the
rope and climbed down. Jake followed after as soon as the rope was clear.
The bottom of the mine was, not surprisingly, dark. Jake's eyes,
accustomed to the low light of the Shadowlands, were having trouble, and
Hawks saw practically nothing.
"We should have brought some torches," Hawks observed.
"Can't be helped, I guess. I'm heading back up."
"Yeah, might as - " Hawks stopped - something caught his eye. Beside his
right foot, there was a shinny object, reflecting the poor light slightly.
He knelt down and grabbed the item.
"What is that?" asked Jake.
"Looks sorta like a shotgun." Had Hawks more experience with shotguns, he
would have recognized the combat shotgun he held, well maintained and
equipped with a burst mode. There was also a pouch tied to the handle,
filled with spare shells. Hawks fiddled with it for a moment, and
discovered a switch. He flipped it, and a light underneath the muzzle came
on. It wasn't a very powerful light, but it was enough to illuminate a
path.
"Screw torches. This thing's perfect." He shone the light at his feet, and
saw the shotgun's previous owner, now decomposing on the ground. All that
was left on him was a miner's helmet and a worn suit of leather armor.
"Well that's a good sign," Jake said, grabbing the helmet. There was a
light in the front of it.
"Maybe he fell down the shaft." Hawks took the leather armor off the
skeleton and pulled it on over his head. It was a bit larger than him, but
it fit well enough.
"And maybe the critters down here ate of his inerds." Jake turned his
light on, and pulled out his sword. Hawks looked over his shotgun, making
sure it was loaded.
"Don't you have enough guns already?" asked Jake, noticing what Hawks
apparently did not - the assault riffle already strapped onto the Chosen
One's back.
"Don't you have enough knives? Let's get moving." Armed, they walked off
into the mine.
***
"We're lost, aren't we?" Hawks asked. Half an hour had passed since they
began exploring, and it seemed like they had been going in circles the
whole time.
"I know exactly where we are," replied Jake. "You just don't have a head
for directions."
"Uh-huh, bull. Where are we supposed to be?"
"In a mine outside of Willistown. That should be obvious."
"Godamnit. How are we supposed to get out of here anyways?"
"By walking the opposite way we are now. I know exactly where we are."
Hawks shook his head, giving up. A moment later, Jake stopped abruptly.
Hawks didn't like how quickly Jake stopped. "Hell, we're in for a world of
shit, aren't we?"
"More or less. I told you I knew where we are." He pointed in front of
him. Hawks walked up and pointed his shotgun's light in that direction.
There were about half a dozen eggs amid a few dozen egg shells. "I'm
guessing this is a nest for the critters down here."
"We should leave then. Now."
"It's too late, actually. Look over there." Jake pointed left, where a
group of creatures were gathering. They were short, with smooth oval
heads, tentacles for arms, and no visible arms or nose. Standard
wanamingos, though neither Hawks nor Jake knew that.
Hawks switched his shotgun into burst mode. "Next time, warn be before we
walk straight into hell, all right?"
"Maybe this will teach you not to wander into strange holes in the
ground." The Twilighter walked over to Hawks, making sure to have as
little space between them as possible.
"You want left or right?" Jake looked to his right; more wanamingos had
appeared over there. They were preparing to attack, judging from their
stance.
"Left. Don't go wandering off."
"Damn I miss rats." The wanamingos charged from both sides. Hawks raised
his shotgun and fired out a burst of shells. Three wanamingos fell down,
crippled, unconscious, or dead. Hawks couldn't see how many more there
still were. Jake swung his sword wide from his along his waist, cutting
open his forward four wanamingos along their "heads". Two more leapt over
the others as they fell. Jake sidestepped and brought his sword down as
the wanamingos landed, cutting them in half.
Hawks fired two more bursts into his group, before his shotgun was
emptied. He pointed his light where he guessed the wanamingos' eyes would
be, blinding them temporarily. As they shrieked under the un-naturally
bright light, Hawks dropped the shotgun, making sure to keep the light
pointing towards the wanamingos, and unstrapped his assault riffle. As the
wanamingos recovered, he opened fire on full burst. The rounds tore into
the critters, ripping off tentacles and shredding heads.
Jake, with his left hand, grabbed a shuriken off his right shoulder and
threw it at the wanamingos. It flew straight through one, and lodged
itself into a second one. He counted roughly seven more critters left. One
he missed slashed Jake's still-extended left arm midway between his elbow
and hand. Cursing, Jake spun around and, with sword in both hands, brought
his sword down on the eight one, slicing him in half diagonally. The
remaining seven charged Jake as he turned back around.
Hawks finished pumping bullets into his group, and spun the shotgun on the
ground to blind Jake's. He fired off single shots with the remainder of
his riffle ammo, as Jake dropped his sword and switched to his throwing
knives. Four seconds later, the last wanamingo lay dead.
"Shit," muttered Hawks, collapsing onto the ground. Jake, using one of his
knives, tore off a strip from his jacket and tired it around the wound on
his arm. "You need a stim?"
Jake shook his head. "Nah, it's just my back-up arm." A moment passed as
the two caught their breath. Jake got up and walked over to the critters.
"Now what did we learn today?" Jake asked, salvaging the knives and
shurikens he could from the wanamingo corpses.
"That I hate whatever the hell those things are. Were."
"Anything about wandering into strange dark holes without knowing what's
in them?"
"What? No. Hell no. Some of the best stuff's buried in holes in the
ground. So get off your lazy ass and let's get moving." Hawks picked up
his riffle and stood up.
"I'm not the one sitting on his ass."
"This time, I lead the way. No more wandering around into demon nests."
"Ever get the feeling we're having completely different conversations?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Lead on, o great leader." Hawks strapped his assault riffle
onto his back and walked off, making sure to kick the intact eggs into a
wall as he passed them.
***
"You know," Jake observed, "we're going to have to go back up
eventually." It was later still. The two had yet to find anything, besides
a rusted shovel, that could help them dig their way out of the
Shadowlands.
"I know where I'm going. I spent half my life wandering through caves and
a temple like this."
"Then where are we supposed to be going."
"There's something ahead of us. I can feel it."
"That's because you've walked straight into a wall ahead of you at least
seven times now."
"My light's dying, you know that. I'm trying to save power. Besides, I can
hear the sound of machinery rusting." Hawks added, trying to sound heroic,
"I have the hearing of the Chosen One."
"That was me taking a piss, actually. Nature called."
"...oh. Fine, you lead then." As soon as Hawks finished speaking, he
bumped into a large piece of metal in front of him he hadn't noticed. Jake
turned his helmet light, also running low, back on and pointed it in
Hawks's direction.
Jake grinned arrogantly at what he saw. "See? The minute I take command,
our situation improves."
"Shut up," muttered Hawks, pointing his shotgun at the metal. It was some
sort of machine, rusting and falling apart. There were numerous cuts in
the metal. Parts of the machine were lying on the floor, having been torn
off. Hawks didn't know what caused that.
"This what you were looking for?"
"It better not be, this thing is wrecked." Hawks walked around to the
other side of the machine. There was one large drill on the front, which
was almost rounded off at the tip. Another drill lay lying on the ground,
shredded. "Ah, Godamnit. This was the mining drill."
"Oh well, life's a bitch. Let's go." Before he started walking, though,
Jake heard noises that sounded like the wanamingos. He held up his hand
for silence, and walked carefully and quietly towards the noise's source,
with Hawks following close behind. Both had their weapons drawn, and their
lights were dimmed to a level where they could sneak effectively.
After a few second's creeping, they found the noise's cause. Two
wanamingos were tussling on the ground not far from the machine, with
their tentacles flying wild. They were also making a high pitched
squealing sound. "What the hell are they doing?" asked Hawks.
"Either killing each other, or screwing each other. Hard to tell."
"Either way, it's disgusting." The wanamingos rolled back and forth on the
ground, chopping up the dirt - and anything else nearby - with their
tentacles. This included a chunk of metal that had fallen off - or was
more likely torn off - of the drill. Their tentacles tore several gashes
into it, without the wanamingos paying any attention.
"If it's so disgusting, then why don't you leave?"
"It's not _that_ disgusting. Besides, this is the closest I've come to
entertainment all day." After another minute of rolling back and forth,
the wanamingos abruptly stood up and left in opposite directions. Jake
walked up to where the wanamingos had been. There was something sticky
under his foot.
"Well, they weren't killing each other."
"Okay, _now_ it's disgusting enough." Hawks picked up the chunk of metal
the wanamingos had torn up, holding it as far away from his body as his
arms allowed. The damage was similar to what had happened to the drill. "I
think those things broke the drill. Look at this." Hawks tossed the metal
over to Jake, who didn't risk catching it.
Jake looked the metal chunk lying on the ground over for a second, and
then shrugged and kicked the piece away. "Oh well, shit happens. We should
probably get out of here before these batteries die completely."
"Great. And how the hell are we supposed to do that?" Hawks asked,
realizing just how bad their situation was. They had used up nearly all
the batteries getting down there, so getting out would probably involve
more battery power then they had.
Jake sighed and pointed to his PipBoy. "Remind me to get you a manual for
this when we head to the Archives again. My PipBoy's been making a map
from the moment we stepped into this hole."
"...oh."
"Yeah. I'll show you how to do that later. C'mon." Jake walked off, with
Hawks following after.
***
"I see you didn't find a way out," observed Canine as Hawks and Jake
walked back to the horse cart.
"Gee, did your mind reading powers tell you that?" asked Hawks,
sarcastically and bitterly. Jake tossed his mining hat into the cart, and
grabbed a bag of horse grains to feed the horses with.
"No, it was the fact that you've been throwing your arms up every five
steps since I've seen you. I could have told you things probably would
have ended this way." Hawks shook his head and placed Canine into the
cart. Jake threw the feed bag back in and then mounted his horse.
"So how much longer until Brons?" Hawks asked as he mounted his own.
"Assuming we don't take any more extended water breaks, a day or so."
"That's fine by me, this one's been nothing but a big waste of time." With
that, the two whipped their reigns, and started out again.
***
-Draconias "Anybody remember this? C'mon, it's only been about five months!" Galactica
***
In the wasteland, time passes by slowly. Even still, you can tell the
difference between night and day. The Shadowlands weren't much different,
except it was harder to tell day from night. One would have to live in
there a long time to tell it by instinct. Since Hawks wasn't planning on
staying in there very long, he relied on Jake's internal clock.
"What time is it?" Hawks asked.
"Time is imaginary, there is only now," said Jake, sounding as profound as
he could.
"Lovely. What time is it?"
"Check the position of the sun."
"There is no sun. There's big damn cloud. What am I supposed to do, check
the position of the clouds?"
"That's just stupid. You do that to check the seasons, not the time."
"Do you even have seasons?"
"We've been having fall for a few decades now."
"Great. How long's winter, 200 years?"
"Ask my grandkids, I'll be long dead before winter happens."
"And you'll be dead much sooner if I don't get the time soon! I want to
know when I can go to sleep!"
"Why can't you just go to sleep now?"
"I can't sleep during the day, all right? Now tell me what time it is!"
"Just check your damn PipBoy!!!" shouted Canine, speaking up from his
place in the cart. Hawks and Jake turned and stared at him.
"Leave it to a mutt to break up an intelligent conversation," muttered
Jake.
"Yeah, just when it was getting interesting." Canine shook his head as
best as a dog could and lied back down. Human behavior made little sense,
if any. "Anyways, my ass hurts."
"Your ass always hurts. Try walking." Hawks looked at the Shadowlands map
Jake transferred into his PipBoy. There was a green circle labeled
"Willistown" not far away, two or three miles at most. Zooming out, he
located Brons. It was still a few grids away, too far for Hawks's sore
rear.
"We're stopping at Willistown. I want to sit down and get something to
drink." Jake pulled out his canteen, and found it was practically empty.
"Might as well, I guess." The two turned their horses westward to detour
towards Willistown.
Vault 61 established Willistown near a pre-war mining site. The party that
was sent there expected to find survivors hiding in the mines, but there
was nothing there but some worn-down mining equipment. Willistown - nobody
remembers who Willis was - supplied Vault 61 with a slow but steady supply
of resources until 15 years ago, when the mine was shut down. There had
been too many deaths occurring to maintain a profit. Since then,
Willistown had been shifting from a mining town into a farming community.
There wasn't much in the town - just a few buildings, some potato patches,
and a brahmin pen. Unlike Crater Town or DRR, one could have seen the
whole town if it weren't for the low light of the Shadowlands.
"Okay, where's the bar?" asked Hawks.
"I don't know if they have one," Jake replied. "I haven't been here in a
year or two. All I remember is that there isn't much to this town." Hawks
dismounted his horse and walked back to the cart.
"Well?" Hawks asked, looking down at Canine.
"Is that all I am to you? A bar finder?"
"You're also back-up food," added Jake. Hawks lifted Canine out of the
cart and placed him on the ground. The dog closed his eyes. Hawks heard
the "wub, wub, wub" noise in his ears once more. Jake didn't notice
anything, though. Canine opened his eyes a few seconds later and started
walking.
"Follow me," muttered Canine as he went. "Lousy, non-psychic bipeds."
Hawks and Jake followed after the dog, bringing the horses with them.
The bar was a simple one-story building - none of the buildings in
Willistown were more than one floor - made of metal scraps. It looked like
a building that would have felt at home in Junktown, though nobody here
would have known that. The bar itself and the two small tables were all
nearly filled. As Hawks, Jake, and Canine entered, a few people looked up
long enough to glare at the outsiders before returning to their all-
important task of getting drunk.
"Popular place," observed Hawks.
"It's happy hour," Jake said.
"I can tell by all the pleasant faces." They walked up to the crowded bar
and sat down at the only available spots, at the bar's the edge.
A man in his early twenties, apparently the bartender, shouted from the
other side of the room. "Whatda ya want?"
"Up for a drinking contest," Jake asked Hawks.
"I told you, I'm through with booze. I still have a headache the size of
here to DRR."
"I thought you were kidding about that," stated Jake, surprised.
"We can always use water. First one to piss himself looses."
"Nah, it just wouldn't be the same." Jake shouted back to the bartender.
"Water, and something that isn't watered down!" He turned back to Hawks.
"If you could hold your liquor, we could have some fun."
"Last time we did that, _I_ won."
"You cheated. You spiked my drink."
"Bullshit. How do you spike whiskey, add more whiskey?"
"That wasn't whiskey, that was water with whiskey flavoring. Besides, you
had the dog piss in it."
"Why would you drink it then?"
"It's a matter of honor. Besides, there's no way I'll loose to a
dishonorable crap like you over a few drops of piss."
"Hate to tell you, but you passed out anyways."
"I wasn't there for that part."
"I'll say." The bartender came over with a near-empty bottle of vodka and
an old-looking canteen of something not dissimilar to water.
"It's thirty for the booze and ten for the water." Hawks and Jake both
grumbled about it being a rip-off, and dug the fee out of their coin bags.
The bartender grabbed his pay and walked back to the other side of the
room.
"This stuff tastes like shit," Hawks mumbled.
"Mine ain't much better. I think I remember why I haven't been here in a
few years." They both sat in silence for a while, finishing off their
drinks. Hawks dropped his canteen on the floor when it was nearing empty
and let Canine finish it off.
Something occurred to Hawks as he stared at his dog licking up the
'water'. "Hey."
"What?"
"The mine near this place, did these guys dig it?"
"Some of it, yeah." Jake realized what Hawks was thinking. "I don't think
the mining equipment still works."
"It might. Hell, it's better than nothing."
"Not by much. The mine got shut down because there were critters down
there that kept killing the miners. Nasty things from what I've heard."
"Yeah, well, I'm done with my drink and my ass is still to sore to start
riding again. Besides, it worked for no-nuts...maybe. He might have been
full of shit. But anyways, I'm gonna check it out."
"All right then, let's get moving."
"Huh?"
"I don't have anything better to do besides get drunk, and then we'd have
to hang around here overnight. So let's go."
"How about you?" Hawks asked Canine, looking down at the dog.
"No thanks. I'll be with the horses." Canine walked out as Hawks stood up.
"Think the horses will be alright with just him?"
"They have been before. C'mon."
***
The mine was, on the surface, just a big hole in the ground. Above it, a
wooden tripod held a rope that went down into the mine. It was too far
down to see the bottom. Jake kicked a stone lying near the entrance down
into the shaft. About seven seconds later, the stone clanked against the
ground.
"Damn," Jake muttered. "You sure you want to do this?"
"Nothing better to do, remember?" replied Hawks. He grabbed hold of the
rope and climbed down. Jake followed after as soon as the rope was clear.
The bottom of the mine was, not surprisingly, dark. Jake's eyes,
accustomed to the low light of the Shadowlands, were having trouble, and
Hawks saw practically nothing.
"We should have brought some torches," Hawks observed.
"Can't be helped, I guess. I'm heading back up."
"Yeah, might as - " Hawks stopped - something caught his eye. Beside his
right foot, there was a shinny object, reflecting the poor light slightly.
He knelt down and grabbed the item.
"What is that?" asked Jake.
"Looks sorta like a shotgun." Had Hawks more experience with shotguns, he
would have recognized the combat shotgun he held, well maintained and
equipped with a burst mode. There was also a pouch tied to the handle,
filled with spare shells. Hawks fiddled with it for a moment, and
discovered a switch. He flipped it, and a light underneath the muzzle came
on. It wasn't a very powerful light, but it was enough to illuminate a
path.
"Screw torches. This thing's perfect." He shone the light at his feet, and
saw the shotgun's previous owner, now decomposing on the ground. All that
was left on him was a miner's helmet and a worn suit of leather armor.
"Well that's a good sign," Jake said, grabbing the helmet. There was a
light in the front of it.
"Maybe he fell down the shaft." Hawks took the leather armor off the
skeleton and pulled it on over his head. It was a bit larger than him, but
it fit well enough.
"And maybe the critters down here ate of his inerds." Jake turned his
light on, and pulled out his sword. Hawks looked over his shotgun, making
sure it was loaded.
"Don't you have enough guns already?" asked Jake, noticing what Hawks
apparently did not - the assault riffle already strapped onto the Chosen
One's back.
"Don't you have enough knives? Let's get moving." Armed, they walked off
into the mine.
***
"We're lost, aren't we?" Hawks asked. Half an hour had passed since they
began exploring, and it seemed like they had been going in circles the
whole time.
"I know exactly where we are," replied Jake. "You just don't have a head
for directions."
"Uh-huh, bull. Where are we supposed to be?"
"In a mine outside of Willistown. That should be obvious."
"Godamnit. How are we supposed to get out of here anyways?"
"By walking the opposite way we are now. I know exactly where we are."
Hawks shook his head, giving up. A moment later, Jake stopped abruptly.
Hawks didn't like how quickly Jake stopped. "Hell, we're in for a world of
shit, aren't we?"
"More or less. I told you I knew where we are." He pointed in front of
him. Hawks walked up and pointed his shotgun's light in that direction.
There were about half a dozen eggs amid a few dozen egg shells. "I'm
guessing this is a nest for the critters down here."
"We should leave then. Now."
"It's too late, actually. Look over there." Jake pointed left, where a
group of creatures were gathering. They were short, with smooth oval
heads, tentacles for arms, and no visible arms or nose. Standard
wanamingos, though neither Hawks nor Jake knew that.
Hawks switched his shotgun into burst mode. "Next time, warn be before we
walk straight into hell, all right?"
"Maybe this will teach you not to wander into strange holes in the
ground." The Twilighter walked over to Hawks, making sure to have as
little space between them as possible.
"You want left or right?" Jake looked to his right; more wanamingos had
appeared over there. They were preparing to attack, judging from their
stance.
"Left. Don't go wandering off."
"Damn I miss rats." The wanamingos charged from both sides. Hawks raised
his shotgun and fired out a burst of shells. Three wanamingos fell down,
crippled, unconscious, or dead. Hawks couldn't see how many more there
still were. Jake swung his sword wide from his along his waist, cutting
open his forward four wanamingos along their "heads". Two more leapt over
the others as they fell. Jake sidestepped and brought his sword down as
the wanamingos landed, cutting them in half.
Hawks fired two more bursts into his group, before his shotgun was
emptied. He pointed his light where he guessed the wanamingos' eyes would
be, blinding them temporarily. As they shrieked under the un-naturally
bright light, Hawks dropped the shotgun, making sure to keep the light
pointing towards the wanamingos, and unstrapped his assault riffle. As the
wanamingos recovered, he opened fire on full burst. The rounds tore into
the critters, ripping off tentacles and shredding heads.
Jake, with his left hand, grabbed a shuriken off his right shoulder and
threw it at the wanamingos. It flew straight through one, and lodged
itself into a second one. He counted roughly seven more critters left. One
he missed slashed Jake's still-extended left arm midway between his elbow
and hand. Cursing, Jake spun around and, with sword in both hands, brought
his sword down on the eight one, slicing him in half diagonally. The
remaining seven charged Jake as he turned back around.
Hawks finished pumping bullets into his group, and spun the shotgun on the
ground to blind Jake's. He fired off single shots with the remainder of
his riffle ammo, as Jake dropped his sword and switched to his throwing
knives. Four seconds later, the last wanamingo lay dead.
"Shit," muttered Hawks, collapsing onto the ground. Jake, using one of his
knives, tore off a strip from his jacket and tired it around the wound on
his arm. "You need a stim?"
Jake shook his head. "Nah, it's just my back-up arm." A moment passed as
the two caught their breath. Jake got up and walked over to the critters.
"Now what did we learn today?" Jake asked, salvaging the knives and
shurikens he could from the wanamingo corpses.
"That I hate whatever the hell those things are. Were."
"Anything about wandering into strange dark holes without knowing what's
in them?"
"What? No. Hell no. Some of the best stuff's buried in holes in the
ground. So get off your lazy ass and let's get moving." Hawks picked up
his riffle and stood up.
"I'm not the one sitting on his ass."
"This time, I lead the way. No more wandering around into demon nests."
"Ever get the feeling we're having completely different conversations?"
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Lead on, o great leader." Hawks strapped his assault riffle
onto his back and walked off, making sure to kick the intact eggs into a
wall as he passed them.
***
"You know," Jake observed, "we're going to have to go back up
eventually." It was later still. The two had yet to find anything, besides
a rusted shovel, that could help them dig their way out of the
Shadowlands.
"I know where I'm going. I spent half my life wandering through caves and
a temple like this."
"Then where are we supposed to be going."
"There's something ahead of us. I can feel it."
"That's because you've walked straight into a wall ahead of you at least
seven times now."
"My light's dying, you know that. I'm trying to save power. Besides, I can
hear the sound of machinery rusting." Hawks added, trying to sound heroic,
"I have the hearing of the Chosen One."
"That was me taking a piss, actually. Nature called."
"...oh. Fine, you lead then." As soon as Hawks finished speaking, he
bumped into a large piece of metal in front of him he hadn't noticed. Jake
turned his helmet light, also running low, back on and pointed it in
Hawks's direction.
Jake grinned arrogantly at what he saw. "See? The minute I take command,
our situation improves."
"Shut up," muttered Hawks, pointing his shotgun at the metal. It was some
sort of machine, rusting and falling apart. There were numerous cuts in
the metal. Parts of the machine were lying on the floor, having been torn
off. Hawks didn't know what caused that.
"This what you were looking for?"
"It better not be, this thing is wrecked." Hawks walked around to the
other side of the machine. There was one large drill on the front, which
was almost rounded off at the tip. Another drill lay lying on the ground,
shredded. "Ah, Godamnit. This was the mining drill."
"Oh well, life's a bitch. Let's go." Before he started walking, though,
Jake heard noises that sounded like the wanamingos. He held up his hand
for silence, and walked carefully and quietly towards the noise's source,
with Hawks following close behind. Both had their weapons drawn, and their
lights were dimmed to a level where they could sneak effectively.
After a few second's creeping, they found the noise's cause. Two
wanamingos were tussling on the ground not far from the machine, with
their tentacles flying wild. They were also making a high pitched
squealing sound. "What the hell are they doing?" asked Hawks.
"Either killing each other, or screwing each other. Hard to tell."
"Either way, it's disgusting." The wanamingos rolled back and forth on the
ground, chopping up the dirt - and anything else nearby - with their
tentacles. This included a chunk of metal that had fallen off - or was
more likely torn off - of the drill. Their tentacles tore several gashes
into it, without the wanamingos paying any attention.
"If it's so disgusting, then why don't you leave?"
"It's not _that_ disgusting. Besides, this is the closest I've come to
entertainment all day." After another minute of rolling back and forth,
the wanamingos abruptly stood up and left in opposite directions. Jake
walked up to where the wanamingos had been. There was something sticky
under his foot.
"Well, they weren't killing each other."
"Okay, _now_ it's disgusting enough." Hawks picked up the chunk of metal
the wanamingos had torn up, holding it as far away from his body as his
arms allowed. The damage was similar to what had happened to the drill. "I
think those things broke the drill. Look at this." Hawks tossed the metal
over to Jake, who didn't risk catching it.
Jake looked the metal chunk lying on the ground over for a second, and
then shrugged and kicked the piece away. "Oh well, shit happens. We should
probably get out of here before these batteries die completely."
"Great. And how the hell are we supposed to do that?" Hawks asked,
realizing just how bad their situation was. They had used up nearly all
the batteries getting down there, so getting out would probably involve
more battery power then they had.
Jake sighed and pointed to his PipBoy. "Remind me to get you a manual for
this when we head to the Archives again. My PipBoy's been making a map
from the moment we stepped into this hole."
"...oh."
"Yeah. I'll show you how to do that later. C'mon." Jake walked off, with
Hawks following after.
***
"I see you didn't find a way out," observed Canine as Hawks and Jake
walked back to the horse cart.
"Gee, did your mind reading powers tell you that?" asked Hawks,
sarcastically and bitterly. Jake tossed his mining hat into the cart, and
grabbed a bag of horse grains to feed the horses with.
"No, it was the fact that you've been throwing your arms up every five
steps since I've seen you. I could have told you things probably would
have ended this way." Hawks shook his head and placed Canine into the
cart. Jake threw the feed bag back in and then mounted his horse.
"So how much longer until Brons?" Hawks asked as he mounted his own.
"Assuming we don't take any more extended water breaks, a day or so."
"That's fine by me, this one's been nothing but a big waste of time." With
that, the two whipped their reigns, and started out again.
***
-Draconias "Anybody remember this? C'mon, it's only been about five months!" Galactica
