The first part of Pang
Li’s cynical adventures in post-apocalypse America can be found
here. And now, the adventure continues:
Date: 2287 October 24th
[Afternoon]
I’ve found an
intelligent and helpful friend. Admittedly, he’s an Alsatian, but
it’s still a nice surprise.
After shooting a few
ruffians with a gas mask fetish, I encountered some people who aren’t
violent thugs. Problem is, they’re a junkie, a loser, a bitch and a
hick, led by some sort of weird LARP enthusiast. He’s called
Preston Garvey, and has a laser-powered musket, for pity’s sake.
And you know what they called the Alsatian? Dogmeat.
Dogmeat.
Might as well have
called him Hors d’Oeuvres.
And just compare the
LARPers to Dogmeat’s attitude. He came out of nowhere and we worked
together. Gravyboat and his chums (five of them, total) were hiding
in a room whilst me and the Dogmeister took out every one of the
thuggish gang attacking them. No wonder people say dogs are man’s
best friend. At least that hasn’t changed.
That said, they did
have some useful information. Seems there is a city built around the
old football stadium. It’s got to have someone who has basic
technological expertise. That’s the good news. The bad news is the
quintet of fools have decided they want to make their new home at
Sanctuary Hills. As long as they don’t bother me, I’m sure I’ll
be able to tolerate them. Besides, having someone armed and on
patrol whilst I’m gone might be useful.
Late addition:
Preston’s quite an attractive man, but if he tries telling me about
a settlement in trouble one more time I’m going to introduce his
nuts to my baseball bat.
Date: 2287 October 25th
I was heading south to
Diamond City when I caught some radio chatter (and not the whiny
weasel on Diamond City Radio). It was a cry for help from some
militant group holed up in a police station. Got there in time to
save a librarian, an invalid, and a tin hat uniform called Danse.
They were being attacked by the irradiated, degraded, mindless
residents of Boston (now referred to as ‘ghouls’).
Danse wouldn’t give
me any info on his group, but I, and my charming bathrobe ensemble,
did manage to persuade him to hire me. It’s perfect. The mission is
retrieving some hi-tech gear to boost their radio. With any luck,
I’ll be able to use that to contact Beijing directly. If not, I’ll
see if I can get in touch with whatever’s left of Chinese
intelligence over here.
Found some good
supplies in the police station. Might use the handcuffs on Preston if
he keeps blathering about settlements (he says he can’t help them
because his ‘hands are full’ in Sanctuary, but all he ever does
is walk up and down the street, whistling. In the old world, he
would’ve been a standard issue desk jockey, handing out orders and
doing nothing himself). Also found a holotape diary from the
librarian. The group’s called the Brotherhood of Steel. Sound very
aggressive, an army focused on guns with a serious lack of interest
in intelligence. Weird that there’s no mention of the US
Government. Does it even exist? Was our victory absolute? Anyway, the
Brotherhood’s lax with cybersecurity, not even a password on their
computer. They’re a long range recon team. Danse seems skilled at
getting his soldiers killed. Good to learn right before we head out
together.
I think Danse might be
a shade socialist. We arrived at ArcJet Systems and he started
ranting about corporations and technology being abused. Maybe this
Brotherhood is more compatible with Chinese than American thinking.
He also mentioned something called the Institute, descendants of
scientists. If this transmitter doesn’t come off, they sound like a
good lead.
Got attacked by
androids called synths. I think Danse’s balls are bigger than his
brain. I fired up a rocket engine to incinerate them (he survived,
although, to be frank, that wasn’t really a factor in my decision)
and he congratulated me on the tactic, despite almost cooking him
alive. Unsure if he’s dumb as a post or hard as nails. Either way,
he invited me to join his merry band of militants. I said I was
unsure. Don’t want to get tied down, for all I know the
Brotherhood’s got more enemies than friends.
That’s the good news.
The bad is that the transmitter was too weak to contact Beijing, and
nobody responded to my old call-signs to local intelligence HQ. I’ll
have to look elsewhere, and the only place to go is Diamond City.
Thaddeus
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